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We constantly wake up to Black death.
Last Monday, I woke up and was getting myself together for class when I heard that another Black man was shot by police. Daunte Wright was shot and killed by police officer Kim Potter in Brooklyn Center, Minnesota, just ten miles from the courtroom where Derek Chauvin was on trial for the murder of George Floyd.
We rationalize for white children in this country, but we don’t for Black children. Black girlhood is threatened when others craft a false narrative of who we are.
I can’t even focus; nothing else in my day really matters. Black death is a part of morning rituals now. As a researcher of adolescents and emerging adults, I think about Gianna Floyd a lot, and I think about all of the Black children impacted by police violence.
Gianna Floyd, George’s daughter, has to relive the anguish and racism that her father endured. On the first day of Chauvin’s trial, Gianna Floyd and her mother, Roxie Washington, sat down with ABC News and reflected on his character and how he made both of them feel. It’s clear that she had a beautiful bond with her father.
Gianna has received support in the form of monetary gifts and kind messages from celebrities and politicians. She recently was gifted a bedroom makeover from an interior designer. She is now a Disney shareholder, and has been offered a full scholarship to Texas Southern University.
I’m happy that Gianna has received all of these gifts because Black girls deserve it. Black children are brilliant beyond the hardships. However, I want these resources and opportunities to be available to Black girls without the suffering.
Black girls shouldn’t have to parade our trauma to be recognized as deserving. Black girls are magic, yes, but Black girls are also human and deserve positive Black girlhood. For me, Black girlhood is all of this. Most importantly, it’s about creating collective care and resisting the intersecting systems of oppression to achieve agency and “just be.”
When the verdict for Chauvin’s trial was announced, it was almost as if I could hear a unified sigh of relief among Black people. But I should have known that this was just a second of peace.
A few hours later, sixteen-year-old Ma’Khia Bryant was shot and killed by a Columbus, Ohio, police officer. She was a child. Her life mattered. The details about whether or not she was being civil are irrelevant. We rationalize for white children in this country, but we don’t for Black children. Black girlhood is threatened when others craft a false narrative of who we are.
Nishaun T. Battle, in her new book, Black Girlhood, Punishment, and Resistance: Reimagining Justice for Black Girls in Virginia, discusses the historical context of Black guilt that has shaped the dominant image of Black girlhood as “difficult” and uncivil. It has shaped the ways in which the criminal justice system places legal sanctions on Black girls.
Black girlhood studies center on the experiences, opinions, and liberations of Black girls throughout history through different mediums. Black girlhood studies are at the intersection of feminist studies, child and youth studies, and Black studies that allow scholars in various disciplines to engage in the promotion of the development of Black girls.
Black girls need joy, Black girls need reparations, and we need spaces that center collective care and healing.
I recently attended this year’s Society for Research on Child Development Biennial Meeting and listened to a talk by Lauren Mims, Riana Elyse Anderson, and Fantasy Lozada. They spoke about the brilliance of Black children and families. One statement that uplifted my spirit was when Anderson asked, “What is it to be for them to be normally beautiful, of light, of color, and what are people trying to do to diminish this light?”
This light and the normality of childhood allows Black girls to fully be who they are. Gianna Floyd deserves all the accolades and gifts for being brilliant, but this light should have not come because of darkness—the death of her father. Ma’Khia Bryant deserved to live and enjoy Black girlhood, she was also brilliant and full of light.
Black girls need joy, Black girls need reparations, and we need spaces that center collective care and healing. Being with family allows us to be ourselves and provides us with comfort that is often taken away from many Black girls.
Black girls like Gianna and Ma’Khia are consistently impacted by the fallacy of Black girlhood—that we deserve to suffer because of the positions we put ourselves in. To resist oppressive forces, we need to cultivate spaces that allow Black girls to have agency over their identities and be free of violence.
As we continue to process the Chauvin trial and to hold Ma’Khia Bryant in our hearts, let all of us who want joy for Black girls take this time to recognize the excellence of Black children. Let’s advocate for Black girls through funding and opportunities, and keep working to dismantle the system of policing, because this verdict alone is not an act of justice.
All of us, including Black girls, deserve to be free.