Literally nothing, not income, not education, not even being a health expert, has spared mothers who have lost their lives to this failure in our health care system. The ProPublica article acknowledges that, in general, high rates of maternal mortality in the U.S. have alarmed researchers. But the statistics for Black women are the reason for all of the headlines.  According to the CDC, black mothers in the U.S. die at three to four times the rate of white mothers. A Black woman is 22 percent more likely to die from heart disease than a white woman, 71 percent more likely to perish from cervical cancer, but 243 percent more likely to die from pregnancy- or childbirth-related causes.

by Lwando Xaso

Beauty is fair, straight, refined, slight and dainty. Beauty is polite, non-threatening and amenable. What beauty is not, I am told, is me. This definition of beauty is manufactured ,parceled, sold and internalized by its victims. This message is commercialized for profit and by design it thrives on the destruction of women who are forced to chase a standard that is impossible to meet but will spend themselves to attain. For a time I chased it too not realizing that my autonomy and right to self- determination were under siege.

I used to stand in front of the mirror in judgement of my body. I stared back at myself and all the things I could never be and desperately wished I was because I imagined life would be easier. I am a black girl, a dark, tall black girl with a pronounced butt and hips which I have hated since their arrival 23 years ago.
A girl’s body is highly contested ground and the site of a struggle for domination. Insecure women are the easiest to dominate and to exploit. Because the standard of beauty is imported from the west, guess who is dominated and exploited the most? Black women. Women like myself whose hair is not “good”, whose eyes are not light brown, whose skin is not caramel and whose hips will never be narrow. Black women who feel invisible because the object of the hero’s affection never looks like them. Black women who have grown accustomed to not being seen and so they assume their place at the back of the room because the spotlight was never meant for them. Black women who desperately wonder if their names will ever called, if they will ever be picked.

The forces that want to pacify Black women by denying their beauty are threatened by the magic of a Black woman in full possession of herself. Serena Williams on the cover of Vanity Fair in all her Black, pregnant, naked glory is the epitome of magic.

A magic that has liberated legions of Black women. A magic that has called upon Black women to assume their rightful places at the center of the room with the spotlight shining from within rather than from above. It is a magic that neither seeks or needs permission to define itself for itself. It is a magic that has told us in unequivocal terms that we are enough. A magic that has told us that only we can own ourselves and no one else. It is a magic that is unapologetic for its presence and form. A magic that has demanded and dared us all to make an unconditional pact to love ourselves as we are at this very moment.
We are magic because despite the war that has been waged against us, we are still here and we dare to shine. Serena, in just being herself, has reclaimed what beauty means and ignited a revolution. This Black woman has turned the world on its head and now we live on our terms.

Lwando Xaso is an attorney fron Johannesburg, South Africa.

by Queen Muse

It’s been an amazing year for black women. From entertainment to politics to sports, black women have slashed records, made history, and stood up nobly for important causes, for themselves and for one another. These are the #BlackGirlMagic moments that made us laugh, cry tears of joy or shout a unified “Yaaasss!” in celebration of our fellow sisters.

by Altheria Gaston

On Tuesday night, September 8, 2015, I was among millions of people across the world tuned-in to ESPN to watch the U.S. Open Quarterfinal competition featuring two iconic players—Venus Williams and Serena Williams. In Fortune’s "Can Venus and Serena Williams Save Tennis Ratings?" Mary Pilon noted that the match was the second most watched tennis broadcast in ESPN history. Tickets to the match, held at the Arthur Ashe Stadium, the largest tennis stadium by capacity (22,547), were sold-out. And Twitter was on fire with tweets about Venus and Serena—150,000 tweets about Venus and over 190,000 about Serena.

by Erika Nicole Kendall for The Guardian

Serena Williams has often been called an “ape” and “gorilla” across the dark caverns of social media; her body has been described in language not unlike the kind you’d find in old timey slave auction advertisements or Old English freak show exhibits; her deep brown skin, her cheekbones, her muscular physique – the physique of someone who takes their sport seriously, with the trophy case to prove it – are all used as grounds to question the sex she was born at birth or whether she came by her athleticism naturally.

by Leah C.K. Lewis

Serena Williams is adored. She is revered. She dominates in such an elegant sport and the world knows it. Tennis lovers, especially those of us who understand her impact and age-defying accomplishments, are happy to be alive during her tenure, which is now twenty years and running.

by Karen Crouse

Serena Williams was conspicuously absent from the BNP Paribas Open for 13 years, so she could be forgiven for lingering in her return. Making her first appearance at the tournament since the 2001 final, Williams, the world No. 1, defeated Monica Niculescu, 7-5, 7-5, in 2 hours 3 minutes in front of fans so firmly behind her, their cheers were like a wind at her back.