By Maximillian Matthews
At a recent protest in response to the New York Times report that indicated the Department of Health and Human Services is seeking to narrow the federal government definition of “sex” under Title IX, there is a brief moment before actress Indya Moore begins speaking where she simply sighs. It was a sigh that struck me. I felt her weariness as she shared her thoughts. On this same day, I read reports about a racist white man harassing a Black woman with disabilities, a racist white woman calling the police on a Black student seeking to use his school’s library, and a white supremacist who killed two Black people in a grocery store.
I had crossed the point of exhaustion by the time I watched Moore’s speech. Moore was clearly and rightfully distressed when she spoke. I thought about the energy and labor she was exerting to even speak after all that she and her community are currently enduring. I wondered what keeps me going after reading these never ending reports of racism, ableism, misogyny, queer antagonism, transphobia, xenophobia, and more every day despite my weariness. I reflected on the systems that caused these events to take place and the toll they take on our mental health.
How are we summoning the strength to simply live in the midst of such violent traumatic times? How do we care for ourselves when the work required for liberation is ceaseless? How should we best deal with our justified fatigue?
William A. Smith, Department Chair of Education, Culture & Society at the University of Utah, comprised the term “racial battle fatigue” in his research on how microaggressions affected Black students at predominantly white colleges and universities. Smith developed the RBF framework when explaining the physiological, psychological, and behavioral burdens imposed on racially marginalized and stigmatized groups and the amount of energy expended while coping with and fighting against racism. Our energy is spent in overt ways like protesting and subtle ways like maintaining our knowledge on the issues that impact our lives.
With the awareness of the overwhelming problems Black people face, we consequently bear burdens of knowledge that demand our mental and emotional labor. Through our lived experiences, we have an innate awareness of structural oppression. We carry the weight of understanding its breadth and power. We bear the challenges of managing the anti-Blackness we regularly encounter and observing our loved ones deal with it. It is no wonder why activists have such a pronounced emotional connection to their work because we witness the impact that oppression has on those we love. This can result in activists placing tremendous pressure on themselves to produce the change we need. I place such tension on myself when considering what I can do to help in the struggle for liberation and even find myself making comparisons to other activists.
More studies with the RBF framework have followed Smith’s findings, including research on activist burnout. Paul C. Gorski defines activist burnout as “the process by which the cumulative stressors associated with activism wear away activists’ physical and emotional well-being and sense of hope.” He states the risk of activist burnout increases as activists become more invested in their activism and less attentive to their individual welfare. We cannot underestimate the effects of the tiredness that we experience. When RBF and activist burnout are combined with other mental health issues, the results can be tragic as we see in the suicide of Joseph Jefferson.
Jefferson was a New York City based AIDS activist and community leader who ended his life at 26. In 2010, he wrote the following on his Facebook page before committing suicide: “I could not bear the burden of living as a gay man of color in a world grown cold and hateful towards those of us who live and love differently than the so-called ‘social mainstream.’” The “social mainstream” that Jefferson spoke of knows exactly what it is doing. The fact is white supremacy intends for our burdens to be unbearable. The forces we fight are deliberately stacked against us so that we will reach the point where we are overexerted. We must explore how we can best support each other when we are in these wearied spaces because fatigue is an inevitable and intentional fact of living while Black. Fortunately, this work is being done.
Earlier this year, the New York Times published a cover story on the crisis of Black infant and maternal mortality. Linda Villarosa wrote about the experience of Simone Landrum who endured racism from her doctor and many forms of abuse from her ex-boyfriend during her taxing pregnancy. Villarosa connected Landrum’s experience with the plight of Black women across the country.
“For black women in America, an inescapable atmosphere of societal and systemic racism can create a kind of toxic physiological stress, resulting in conditions — including hypertension and [dangerous high blood pressure during pregnancy] — that lead directly to higher rates of infant and maternal death.”
In response to the needs of pregnant women in New Orleans, Latona Giwa, a Black woman, and Dana Keren founded the Birthmark Doula Collective to provide support for women during pregnancy. Giwa served as Landrum’s doula, an individual who works as a professional companion during pregnancy and childbirth and for six weeks after the baby is born, for her fourth pregnancy and helped her to successfully deliver her third son. The Birthmark Doula Collective is one of the many ways Black folks are supporting one another, which is desperately needed.
By the nature of the structures we are fighting, this work will render us utterly depleted. The grievances, injustices, transgressions, suffering and terrorism that have been and continue to be inflicted upon Black people mean our needs will be constant and extensive. There will always be an article to write, a news report to watch, a book to read, a speech to give, a protest to organize, an event to attend, a cause that needs donations, a life to mourn, and a Black person in need.
We can better understand what we are up against with this in mind. Just like we are committed to liberation, whiteness is committed to anti-Blackness. This means oppression will remain, protect itself, and endeavor to intensify as we challenge it. I state this fact to caution and not disturb those who have dedicated themselves to abolishing the systems against us. With this knowledge in mind, we can develop methods of restoration.
Finding the energy to create these methods may be exhausting in itself, but it can be done as long as we remember that we are not bionic. Due to the limitations of our humanity, we cannot expect ourselves to meet every need of our communities. Out of love for ourselves and our Blackness, we must know when it is time to rejuvenate. Our work becomes far more effective when we do it with our full energy rather than depleted energy.
Anti-Black capitalism teaches us that we are to push ourselves when we are weary and our worth is to be measured by our productivity. We are to determine our relevance and success based on how “woke” we are, how many articles we have written, how many marches we have participated in, and the quantity of work we have contributed to the movement for Black lives. We are conditioned to believe fatigue and the cries of our bodies are to be ignored. We must reject these white supremacist values and instead center our well-being. We are of no service to our communities when we we are mentally, emotionally, and physically drained. In the words of Solange, know when to let go.
Suggested Readings:
“You are worth more than what you did today despite what anti-Black capitalism says,” Jae Nichelle, Black Youth Project, 2018
“I have lost faith in protesting,” Rachael Edwards, RaceBaitr, 2018
“No one is obligated to remain: Consent, agency & supporting loved ones who want to let go,” Amber Butts, RaceBaitr, 2018
Maximillian Matthews is a Black queer writer based out of Durham, NC. His work has been featured on Black Youth Project, Blavity, and The Body Is Not An Apology. He has worked in higher education administration for over eight years and runs a career counseling business, Matthews Career Services.
