How many more Black women do we have to lose before people wake up and truly start paying close attention? When I initially learned of the suicide of Dr. Antoinette Candia-Bailey, a former professor and vice president of student affairs at Lincoln University of Missouri, I was saddened but not shocked. Though her death has spotlighted and sparked some harsh realities and much-needed conversations surrounding the mistreatment of Black women in academia, as a Black woman myself and former employee who previously worked in higher education, I can resonate with her experiences and much of what she was likely going through during her time as an employee, and especially, as a Black woman. When I was an academic advisor working in higher education, I experienced incredible amounts of racism, sexism, harassment, and workplace bullying. My time as an employee lasted about three years and by the time I resigned, I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my broken spirit. Before my start
In six years, I’ll be 40. I was recently reminded of this after visiting my PCP (primary care physician) for my annual physical. I was informed that I was healthy and taking good care of myself and was reminded of important areas to focus on while nearing my mid-30s and eventually approaching my 40s. I left my appointment feeling fine and content. Then later, I began thinking about aging and different women I know already in their mid-30s (and some who are right at 40) who are disappointed about getting older and others who are bitter about the current state of their lives. These different women I know, who I think are some of the most brilliant, beautiful, and intelligent women I’ve ever met, are successful in individual ways but have expressed how lonely, frustrated, and upset they’ve been about not ending up with men they thought they were going to settle down with, having to forfeit on having children because of factors like age, health risks, or fertility challenges, and being rep