Societal perceptions are not just limiting; they are damaging. When Black women are continuously shown as aggressive or hypersexual, it is not merely an image issue—it lays the groundwork for systemic discrimination. These perceptions affect opportunities for employment, interactions with law enforcement, and even access to healthcare. By anchoring herself in the strength of the African Sacred Feminine, the Black woman can counteract the weight of these stereotypes, challenging them with a history and spirituality that speaks of her true essence.
However, this isn’t a journey of mere rediscovery; it is a continuous process of decolonizing the mind. Centuries of colonial and post-colonial narratives have shaped perceptions of Black womanhood. Unraveling these threads is not the work of a day or a year. It is a lifelong commitment to challenge, question, and redefine. Every Black woman, whether she’s in the bustling streets of Lagos or the sprawling avenues of New York, carries within her the echoes of the Sacred Feminine. Listening to these echoes, allowing them to shape her identity and worldview, is the process of decolonization.
This journey is poetic, for it involves a dance with the past, a song of self-affirmation, and a continuous crafting of one’s narrative. It is analytical, as it involves the critical examination of accepted norms and the deconstruction of harmful stereotypes. In the Sacred Feminine, the modern Black woman finds not just a symbol, but a beacon—guiding her toward a future where she is defined not by societal prejudices, but by the strength, wisdom, and grace that have always been her heritage.
Although contemporary US society is full of stereotypical images that marginalize and degrade Black women’s bodies,140 many precolonial, spiritually-based cultures of North and West Africa141 developed indigenous concepts of the African Sacred Feminine. It’s a term Arisika Razak, Professor Emerita and former chair of the Women’s Spirituality Program at the California Institute of Integral Studies, uses to describe African representations of the feminine aspects of nature and divinity, as well as the innate human and spiritual powers embodied by women.
Many Black women in the United States still find themselves oppressed by Eurocentric beauty standards, patriarchal gender norms, and racist depictions of Black female sexuality that identify Black women as “sexual deviants.”142 Prominent Black authors like bell hooks and Toni Morrison have explored the degrading stereotypes of Black women that arose in the aftermath of the transatlantic slave trade. They dissect how caricatures of self-effacing mammies, lascivious breeders, and tragic mulattoes were crafted and proliferated, extending their influence into the Jim Crow era and beyond. These negative social constructs have been repackaged for modern consumption in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Now, they surface in forms like the oversexualized depictions of Black women in media, or the stereotype of the “Angry Black Woman,” which are used to police, critique, and marginalize Black women today. In contrast to this historical linking of Black physiognomy with negative, genetically inherited human (or subhuman) traits,143 the approach of the African Sacred Feminine is to espouse, uplift, and amplify images of African women developed by a variety of historic African cultures, several of which existed millennia before the transatlantic slave trade and the development of modern racism.144
In the fifteenth century, a layman, Hans Vintler, began a campaign to taint the positive image of Black female royalty by claiming that “King Solomon had lost his mind because of a Black temptress.” His text was accompanied by an illustration, Die Blumend der Tugend, showing Solomon worshiping an idol. A Black woman with flowing hair and a deviant glare is positioned in front of him to indicate that she, not he, is guilty of luring Solomon to such “ungodly” worship.
Vintler’s accusatory contribution was a disaster for the heritage of African womanhood in the West. Afterwards, negative symbolism became increasingly attached to women of African heritage. By the late fifteenth century, vicious racist stereotypes had taken hold—stigmas of hypersexuality, savagery, and intellectual inferiority, among others. These stereotypes persist in various forms even today, influencing social attitudes, systemic bias, and the lived experiences of Black people.145
According to Meisenhelder, sixteenth-century writings still stressed how different, culturally and sometimes even physically, Africans were from Europeans. Africans (e.g., the Hottentots) were often believed to be the most primitive of all human beings. The African other was constituted as possessing a human body, mind, and soul, but its body was less evolved, with a skin that was black, a mind that was primitive, and a soul darkened by sin.
Distorted perceptions cast Africans as brutes, supposedly ruled by bodily passion, in stark contrast to the observers’ ideal of Christian discipline—a gross misrepresentation revealing more about their own bias than the reality of African culture. Europeans came to perceive Africans through a skewed lens, labeling them as primitive and attributing a range of misrepresented practices to them, from polygamy and heightened sexuality to human sacrifice and cannibalism, casting their spiritual traditions as “paganism.” Detailed descriptions of Africans’ physical attributes, often laden with racial bias and misinterpretation, played a crucial role in this process of social construction. Exaggerated features and misrepresented characteristics were seized upon, fostering stereotypes and forming the bedrock of long-lasting racial prejudices. Regardless of the array of ways Africans might be perceived, there was an undue emphasis on their skin color, with their Blackness often being the first characteristic noted and, unfortunately, judged upon. Africans were misperceived as being more “natural” and somehow less intellectual, an inaccurate stereotype that presented a stark dichotomy: they could be great and beautiful warriors, but they were also regarded as having simple and primitive minds.146
The objectification of Black women’s bodies in particular abounds in tragic examples, such as the short life of Sarah Baartman, a Khoikhoi woman who was exhibited as a freak-show attraction in nineteenth-century Europe under the name “Hottentot Venus,” a name that was later attributed to at least one other woman similarly exhibited. The women were exhibited for their “steatopygia” body type, defined by an accumulation of a large amount of fat on the buttocks. This was uncommon in Western Europe and was not only perceived as a curiosity at that time, but also became the subject of scientific interest as well as erotic projection.
“Venus” is sometimes used to designate representations of the female body in arts and cultural anthropology, referring to the Roman goddess of love and fertility. “Hottentot” was a colonial-era term for the indigenous Khoikhoi people of southwestern Africa, now usually considered an offensive term. The Sarah Baartman story is often regarded as the epitome of racist colonial exploitation and the commodification of the dehumanization of Black people.147
Sarah Baartman was a South African woman of Khoikhoi descent, born around 1789. She became a symbol of the deep-seated racism and objectification that Black women have endured historically and continue to face today.
Baartman was lured from her home under the pretext of wealth and fame and brought to Europe, where she was showcased as a spectacle in early nineteenth-century freak shows. Her body, particularly her large buttocks and labia, became objects of fascination, ridicule, and scientific inquiry among Europeans who viewed her as an exotic other. When she died in 1815, her body was dissected and displayed in a Paris museum until 1974, further dehumanizing her posthumously.
The story of Sarah Baartman symbolizes the hypersexualization and objectification of Black women’s bodies, which have been historically reduced to mere spectacles for the male gaze. The use of her body for entertainment and scientific inquiry mirrors the broader historical context where Black bodies were used as objects in the slave trade and medical experiments.
Sarah Baartman’s life, exploitation, and public display, even in death, exemplify the racialized and gendered gaze that reduces Black women to their bodies and denies them their full humanity. Her story symbolizes the racist and sexist attitudes deeply rooted in Western society that continue to affect the lives of Black women today.
In today’s society, the echoes of Baartman’s story reverberate in the way Black women’s bodies continue to be exoticized and stereotyped. We see this reflected in many realms: media representation often focuses on certain physical features of Black women, like the trend of non-Black celebrities emulating fuller lips and curvier bodies; social media influencers are regularly accused of “Blackfishing” or altering their appearance to look Black; and in advertising, where Black women’s bodies are often depicted in a hypersexualized or objectified manner. The legacy of this harmful practice manifests in the continued commodification of Black women’s bodies in media and popular culture, their over-sexualization in music videos, and even the perpetuation of beauty standards that devalue Black features while simultaneously appropriating them.
In deconstructing the harmful legacy of the objectification of Black women, Sarah Baartman’s story plays a vital role. She has become a symbol of resistance and a catalyst for dialogue about the ongoing dehumanization of Black women. Her posthumous repatriation to South Africa in 2002 and the subsequent removal of her remains from public display were symbolic acts of justice and resistance against her objectification.
The retelling of Baartman’s story also serves as a reminder of the insidious ways in which the legacy of racism and sexism persists. It sparks discussions about how society values and perceives Black women and how these perceptions contribute to systemic racism and sexism. As a symbol, Baartman compels us to challenge and dismantle these harmful portrayals and practices, calling for a more respectful and inclusive recognition of Black women’s humanity. In the face of ongoing struggles, the memory of Sarah Baartman serves as a beacon of resistance against objectification and dehumanization.
Sarah Baartman’s story deserves to be told. In telling her story, I honor her courage to endure and her resilience under the most horrific of circumstances, and I continue to uncover and share the truth about how Black women’s bodies have been treated, not only in the past but with repercussions for all of us in the present day. There is nothing new under the sun. And the goal of understanding the nature of our history ensures that we don’t fall victim to the trauma-inducing gaslighting. It happens when Black women go into the world, whether in the boardrooms of corporate America or the local grocery store. The idea that a fixation on our bodies is all in our minds needs to end. Armed with the truth, our ability to distinguish fact from fiction is an integral part of our healing journey. None of this is in our imagination, because it has been happening since our first encounters with colonizers in our native land.
The tragedy of Sarah Baartman is not unique. Documented cases abound that show similar exploitation and objectification of the Black female body, perpetuating a stereotype that seeks to “other” us in body, spirit, and mind. These types of stereotypes run directly counter to the cultural tradition and philosophy of adoration, respect, and appreciation shown to the African woman in her fully glorious form. It’s important to understand that the purpose of a stereotype is simplification. The Oxford English Dictionary defines a stereotype as “a widely held but fixed and oversimplified image or idea of a particular type of person or thing.”148 So, beyond the damage wrought by the racist, sexist, and misogynistic purposes of these types of archetypes, they also seek to paint Black women as one-dimensional and lacking in depth, dimension, and complexity. Keeping this in mind provides a perspective to better understand these images, innuendos, stories, and outright lies. Although it can be emotionally taxing to process such damaging portrayals, it is crucial to remember that these stereotypes are not reflective of the rich complexity and diversity of Black womanhood. By engaging in self-care practices, seeking supportive communities, and celebrating the true breadth of Black women’s experiences and identities, we can resist internalizing these harmful representations. These stereotypes can be objectively viewed for what they are—a smear campaign to create a false ideal about Black women. The end.
The following stereotypes are examples of the nefarious ways in which the majority culture seeks to further marginalize and emotionally damage Black women. These women have always served as the foundation of the Black family. By objectifying Black women, the goal has always been to destabilize the Black family and further drive a wedge between Black men and Black women, who, throughout antiquity and beyond to the present day, have always been unstoppable when united.
Mammy
The Mammy archetype described enslaved Black women who worked in the houses of plantation owners, often serving as nannies and providing maternal care to the white children of the family. They were characterized as receiving an unusual degree of trust and affection from their enslavers. Early accounts of the Mammy archetype come from memoirs and diaries that emerged after the American Civil War, idealizing the role of the dominant female “house slave”: a woman completely dedicated to the white family, especially the children, and given complete charge of domestic management. She was a “friend” and “advisor.”149
Sapphire
The Sapphire stereotype is of a domineering Black female who consumes men and usurps their role, characterized as a strong, masculine workhorse who labored with Black men in the fields, or an aggressive woman whose overbearing drove away her children and partners.150 Her assertive demeanor is similar to “the Mammy.” But she is portrayed as lacking maternal compassion and understanding.
Jezebel
Jezebel is a stereotype of a sexually voracious, promiscuous Black woman, and was the counterimage of the demure Victorian lady.151 The idea stemmed from Europeans’ first encounters with seminude women in tropical Africa. The African practice of polygamy was attributed to uncontrolled lust, and tribal dances were construed as pagan orgies. These traditional cultural practices were juxtaposed with the European Christian notion of chastity.
Content warning: sexual violence. During the era of slavery, degrading stereotypes about Black women’s sexuality were employed to legitimize abhorrent actions taken by enslavers, including forced reproduction and sexual violence. These stereotypes even found their way into the legal system, further perpetuating harm against Black women.152 Because white people claimed that Black women always wanted sex, it was impossible to prove that they were rape victims in court.153 The Jezebel stereotype contrasts with the Mammy stereotype, providing two broad categories for pigeonholing Black women among whites.154
Tragic Mulatta
A stereotype that was popular in early Hollywood, the “tragic mulatta,” served as a cautionary tale for Black people. She was usually depicted as a sexually attractive, light-skinned woman who was of African descent but could pass for Caucasian.155 The stereotype portrayed light-skinned women as obsessed with getting ahead, with their ultimate goal being marriage to a white, middle-class man. The only route to redemption would be for her to accept her “Blackness.”
Strong Black Woman
The “Strong Black Woman” trope is a discourse on morality, self-help, economic empowerment, and assimilative values in the greater interest of racial uplift and pride.156 In this portrait, originating in the Black Baptist church and evolving into a greater popular culture and media archetype, historians have documented the attempts of middle-class Black women to push back against dominant racist portrayals of Black women being immoral, promiscuous, unclean, lazy, and mannerless by engaging in public outreach campaigns that include literature that warns against brightly colored clothing, gum chewing, loud talking, and unclean homes, among other directives.157 This discourse has been shown to be harmful, dehumanizing, and isolating, creating a culture of emotional disconnect and encouraging the festering of racial trauma both inside and outside the Black community.
The “Strong Black Woman” stereotype is a controlling image that perpetuates the idea that it is acceptable to mistreat Black women because we are strong and can handle it. This storyline can also act as a silencing method. When Black women are struggling to be heard because they go through things in life like everyone else, others remind them that they are strong instead of taking actions toward alleviating their challenges and making spaces emotionally safe.158
Welfare Queen
The Welfare Queen stereotype depicts a Black woman who defrauds the public welfare system to support herself, having roots in both race and gender. This stereotype negatively portrays Black women as scheming and lazy, ignoring the statistically proven, historically verified, and systemically perpetuated genuine economic hardships that Black women, especially mothers, disproportionately face.159
Angry Black Woman
In the twenty-first century, the “Angry Black Woman” has evolved into a stereotype depicting Black women as loud, aggressive, demanding, uncivilized, and physically threatening, as well as lower-middle-class and materialistic.160 She will not stay in what is perceived as her “proper” place.161
Controlling images are stereotypes that are used against marginalized groups to portray social injustice as natural, normal, and inevitable. These images serve to erase individuality, silencing Black women and rendering them invisible within society. One misleading aspect of these controlling images is the erroneous suggestion that white women serve as the standard for all aspects of life, even when it comes to understanding oppression.162 By erasing Black women’s individuality, controlling images silence them and render them invisible in society.163 The assumption that white women are the standard for everything including oppression overlooks the unique ways in which Black women encounter intersectional oppression, which combines race and gender and is not adequately captured by comparing it to the experiences of white women.164
Studies demonstrate that white men and women have dominated the field of scholarship on these issues. Being a recognized academic includes social activism as well as scholarship. Scholars note that it is notably difficult for a Black woman to receive the resources needed to complete her research and to write the texts that she desires.165 That, in part, is due to the silencing effect of the “Angry Black Woman” stereotype. Black women are skeptical of raising issues—also seen as complaining—in professional settings because of their fear of being judged.166 For those of us who pursue social justice advocacy, we often find our experiences minimized and marginalized. We are relegated to living under the broad umbrella of inclusivity or emotional well-being without the context of race in America to frame exactly how centrally impactful the dynamic is to our overall mental health. That is a difficult position to hold, since white counterparts dominate the activist and social work realms of scholarship, reducing scholarship to cookie-cutter solutions without a focus on the voices of Black women, who need advocacy and relief from the pressures of a society dominated by viewpoints centering those in the majority.
