Black Women, It’s Time to Move Differently
Empowering Black Women: From Corporate Survival to Entrepreneurial Freedom
As a Black woman who’s navigated the workforce for decades, I’ve seen firsthand the unique challenges we face. From entry-level jobs in bank basements to corporate offices, our stories are woven with resilience, fear, and unyielding determination. But lately, amid economic shifts, political changes, and personal reflections, I’ve come to believe it’s time for us to redefine our paths. This post is a call to action. It draws from my experiences and conversations with other Black women. It is a call to break free from dependency on systems that weren’t built for us and step into our power through faith, risk-taking, and entrepreneurship.
My Journey in the Workforce: Lessons from the Basement to the Boardroom
I’ve been working since I was 18 years old. My first job was at First Fidelity Bank, later bought out by PNC Bank. I remember it vividly. Most of the employees were women, and the majority were Black women. We worked in the basement, manually processing checks. My manager was a petite Black woman. She was militant, sharp, and sometimes rude, but she ensured the job got done. I appreciated her because she always gave me accolades for how quickly I could count and organize those piles of checks. Back then, everything was done by hand. We sorted incoming checks, placed them into slips, and filed them into folders. Fresh out of high school, I realized that this is what work means.
From that experience, I learned the importance of diligence in every task. I have carried that lesson through every job since, always striving to do my best while maintaining ethical and moral balance.
As I advanced in my career, I began to notice patterns in corporate America. I worked everywhere from small engineering firms to one of the largest consulting companies in the world. One consistent observation stood out. There were usually very few Black people, and even fewer Black men. At my last job, it became clear that Black men often face significant challenges in corporate environments. Many choose entrepreneurship instead, and I don’t see anything wrong with that. It is a powerful path.
For Black women, it is different. We often pursue corporate roles, even if it means starting or staying as administrative assistants. That is what I have done with pride for the last 20 to 30 years. It has allowed me to own my home, buy cars, and earn both a college and a master’s degree. I did all of that while holding down the same type of job. But lately, with everything happening in the United States, including Trump back in office and massive layoffs, I have been reflecting deeply on our role in the workforce.
Three hundred thousand women losing their jobs is a frightening number, especially when you consider the disproportionate impact on Black women. Most of those positions were federal government roles. For decades, these roles have been anchor jobs for many of us. Now, they have been stripped away. I don’t blame Donald Trump for making cuts, and I don’t see this as simply an unfortunate circumstance for Black women. If you’re younger, the world is full of opportunities waiting to be seized. If you’re older, this moment is a chance to hone in on your own skills and reshape your trajectory based on your capabilities. For many of us, the plan was to hold steady until retirement and collect a pension. Now, it seems we have the freedom to move differently. I know this might sound naïve. Even as I write this, it feels almost like a dream—something that could only happen if the stars align. But I believe it is possible.
The Deep-Rooted Fears: Job Security and the Legacy of Struggle
Lately, I’ve been talking to a lot of Black women about job security, our circumstances in America, and the constant challenges of making ends meet. A deep-seated fear runs through so many of us. That fear is that we will not be able to provide for our families. This fear is instilled early. Growing up, we witnessed the struggles of our parents, especially in single-parent homes. My mother was a single parent. While she had a partner, he was often out of work and contributed little financially, even if he was there emotionally. She was always juggling employment, childcare, and her own mental health.
I remember the constant worry. How are we going to pay the rent? How will we keep food on the table? We relied on social programs, including Section 8 housing, food stamps, welfare, and Medicaid. As a child, I thought, I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to rely on the system. But those experiences planted a seed of fear. They taught us to hustle. Get a job, keep working, and never stop, because survival depended on it. Once we entered the workforce, the wages weren’t enough, so we worked twice as hard just to get by, especially after having children of our own. Life became a relentless struggle around one question. How do we keep a roof over our heads and food on the table?
Talking to others, it is the same story. We do not have a real safety net beyond those programs. Even now, there is that anxiety. If we lose our jobs, we could lose everything, including our homes, our medical care, and our security. For many of us, myself included, we are determined not to depend solely on the system. But as we get older, we also recognize what we have already survived. That survival includes single parenting, raising children, maintaining homes and cars, and supporting grandchildren while still helping our adult kids.
We are in a different place now, but the fear lingers. One job loss could bring it all crashing down. Yet I want to think differently, and I hear the same from the women I talk to. We do not want to feel trapped in low-paying jobs, stuck in discriminatory spaces, or in roles beneath our capabilities. We are recognizing our resilience. We have survived the hardest parts. It is time to shift from fear to empowerment and build paths that honor our strength.
Breaking Free: Faith, Risks, and the Power of Our Own Spaces
I have come to realize that if you want to thrive, grow, and break out of the world’s boxes, you have to take risks. For Black women, that means escaping the stereotypes that paint us as uneducated or as token beneficiaries of DEI programs. These programs rarely serve us in meaningful ways. To wipe away those false narratives, we must step boldly into new territory.
AI is one of those new territories. It can feel intimidating, but it also offers incredible opportunities. To use it wisely, we first need faith in God, trusting that He opens new paths. With discernment, we can treat AI as a tool to expand the skills we have built through years of hard work.
For women like me, who may be older and without large savings but still have something to build on, AI can level the playing field. It can help us create businesses, manage tasks, and reach customers in ways that once felt impossible.
My prayer is that Black women will seize these opportunities. That could mean starting a cleaning service, launching a catering business, providing childcare, or even creating new educational spaces. By relying on our own talents, and using technology to support them, we free ourselves from waiting for a seat at someone else’s table.
Reflecting on history, I believe integration has, in some ways, shifted our mindset from building our own institutions to trying to “make it” in theirs. But if we think differently, trust God to guide us, and use the tools at our fingertips, we can change things. Yes, it is overwhelming at times. Trademarks, LLC filings, the $350 fees, and all the little details can feel heavy. But I have learned that if you take the first step, God will lead you through the rest.
Leadership, Representation, and Truth
When I think about women like Karen Bass or Jasmine Crockett, who often offer little more than rhetoric, I feel disappointed. These are women considered the “best and the brightest” within our communities, yet they too often lack real knowledge and intellect. Then there are stories like Fani Willis, who showed no shame in taking from a Black rapper’s hard-earned money. Or Letitia James, who reportedly claimed her father as her spouse to collect benefits. Or Lisa Cook, whose credentials have been questioned and who may not have been qualified for the roles she was given. These examples are disheartening.
Even when I consider Ketanji Brown Jackson, a Supreme Court justice, I feel the same disappointment. When asked to define what a woman is, she refused, even though she has lived as one her entire life. Instead of standing on truth, she chose to appease a small group of individuals. If the Constitution is settled law, then the framers’ understanding of the word “woman,” especially in the 19th Amendment, was grounded in biological reality. The question of what is a man and what is a woman has been settled since the beginning of time. It should not be redefined simply because a man puts on a dress and decides to pretend to be something he will never be. The same goes the other way. When a woman straps on a prosthetic and claims she is now a man, we all know the truth. At best, this is science used as an illusion. At worst, it is junk science that denies reality.
But we should not allow individuals like this to define us or discourage us. Their shortcomings should not hold us back from leaping forward. We cannot measure our own possibilities by the failures of others.
Moving Forward in Faith
I hope others reading this will ask themselves: How can I get out? The first step is trusting God. He will open every door. There are opportunities out there, and I wrote this post to encourage people. Do not let fear paralyze you. Even in uncertain political times, when harassment, instability, or sudden changes feel threatening, we can still move forward. I do not know what the future holds. But I do know faith and action will guide us through.
In sharing these reflections, my goal is to inspire Black women everywhere to embrace our resilience and chart new courses. We have survived the storms. Now let’s build our own empires. If you are ready to take that leap, start with faith, a small step, and the tools already in your hands. The box is breaking. Our freedom awaits.
