by Quanisha Smith


During a conference I attended recently, I had an interesting interracial dialogue with a White woman. A conference participant mentioned that the presence of a White staff member during the event and more intimate group meetings bothered her and a few other people. She discussed the importance of having spaces sans White folks. While the event attendees were predominately Black, the conference was not a space dedicated solely for Black women. I shared the participant’s concern with my White colleague, to which she replied, “It sounds like insecurity to me.” My colleague is an ally and fully supports the event’s mission but in this instance her thinking showed otherwise. She unintentionally perpetuated racism, while consciously thinking she was helping to uplift Black women.

Finding happiness at twenty-two as a queer, mixed race woman of color has been nothing short of a two-decade struggle. Growing up in a household with a white mother and an emotionally unstable black father – who mastered the art of invisibility quite swiftly upon brining me into the world – created a unique set of insecurities.