Voice is a Place

Voice did not always come from certainty. Sometimes it came from necessity, from grief, from refusal, from the need to be heard by someone who might understand. This page holds voice as a place Black girls, women, and femmes returned to, built, and protected online.

My voice deserved a place to land.
Ashley Gaddy Robbins, Ph.D.
“I don’t stay online for me. I stay online for us. I started writing about my experiences in 2008, at the height of the Tumblr and blog era when so many of us were realizing that digital spaces were deeply communal. I met other queer, trans, and disabled Black folks who would become my organizing, intellectual, and creative community. I stay online because we matter and we need each other. We need to see one another healing, living, and loving in public.”
Jenn M. Jackson, PhD
“I was drawn to social media content creation because it allowed for Black stories to be told and centered that were not often included in traditional media. Toni Morrison wrote about the power of writing and telling Black stories by saying ‘If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.’ Whether our perspectives come by page, screen, song, or stage they are important and divine.”
Victoria Alexander-Thompson
“I was invited but overlooked. I was visible but not heard. I shared my story anyway, knowing that even if no one responded, my voice still mattered.”
Anonymous
“One of my favorite quotes is by Elaine Welteroth: ‘When you exist in spaces that weren’t built for you, remember that sometimes being YOU is the revolution.’ That truth is what keeps me showing up. My presence—my full, unapologetic self—is a form of resistance and a catalyst for change. I don’t show up just for me; I show up for those who will come after me.”
Brigethia
The Voice Note To My Heart Hey precious heart, It’s Ruth here. You have known me all of my life. You have grown with me. When alone – You have held me. The sound between my ribs. The heartbeats echoing the words that I pondered on in solitude. The pangs of frustration when experiencing misogynoir. The fuel for my fire in self-advocacy and advocating for others. The language of my becoming. No surprise that I work as a Psychotherapist now. Matters of the heart are discussed with me. Hearts entrusted in my hands. Heartfelt – Pain Purpose Power. Staying visible online involves making the private thoughts from my heart public – Especially when amplifying the voices of the “hypervisible, yet invisible” – Black women. From the bottom of my heart, I speak highly to my heart: Thank you for nurturing my self-love. Thank you for inspiring my creativity. Thank you for keeping my authenticity. Thank you for making me bold to show up in systems not designed for me. Thank you for allowing me to connect to the beautiful hearts of other Black women. In a world that can feel heartless to Black women, And experiencing systemic heartbreaks myself – It has become a mission of mine to bring the “heart” back. I stay visible online because I know what a heartfelt voice as a Black woman represents – A rebellion against inequitable systems that thrive from our heartaches and silence. If I can Help Hearts Heal… That’s my “Heart Work.” Black women are worthy of WHOLEHEARTED love and light – Even when the world tries to shadow our bright. This is my: Voice Note A written reminder that a Black woman’s voice doesn’t have to just be verbalised to be spoken.
Ruth Abban
“I use my voice online to tell the truth about my lived experience, even when it feels uncomfortable. Speaking out has helped me find others who understand what it means to exist at the intersections.”
Dr. Tashika Carlton
“Writing online has allowed me to say the things I wasn’t always allowed to say out loud. It became a place where my voice could exist without interruption.”
Jené
I stayed because we need to see one another.
Jenn M. Jackson, PhD
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