A short while ago popular LDS blogger Jane Kendrick posted on her blog about her experience of meeting with Mormon scholar and feminist Dr. Joanna Brooks. Kendrick described the beginning of the meeting in these words:
I couldn’t tell her I was a feminist at that point, I was too afraid of what it meant, so I said, “I am a womanist,” and she said to me, “That’s a great word to use if feminist scares you.”
I think Dr. Brooks’ reply was appropriate with regard to both her audience and the general context of the conversation. But in fact, strictly speaking, a “womanist” is not a usually a term people use for those who are sympathetic to the general claims of feminism but are uncomfortable with the word “feminist.” A womanist is one whose concerns for the equality of women specifically and purposefully go beyond race and class (middle to upper class white women), and therefore focus on non-white female minorities, for whom race and class are additional dimensions of oppression. So in a sense womanism in general encompasses the primary insights and goals of feminism, but specifically focuses on the oppression of black women and other minority women in order to reveal and affirm their capabilities as fully equal human beings. (I am quite certain, by the way, that as a professor with years of extensive research and publication experience in feminist and racial topics that Dr. Brooks is fully aware of this and could say much more about this topic than I).
So, in honor of Black History Month (last month), Women’s History Month (this month) and International Women’s Day (today), I am reproducing a text written by Delores S. Williams (original link here). The subject of her text is womanist theology. Briefly, womanist theology is a liberation theology that is a departure from feminist theology (where mainstream feminism has traditionally paid little serious consideration to the singular experiences of women of color) and black theology (which has traditionally lacked a full understanding of the liberation of oppressed black women). The Wikipedia entry on womanist theology is probably the best very brief sum-up of the goals, etymology, and history of this subject. I’m not an expert by any means, but I believe this text is quite timely on this particular day in this particular month, as studies and reports of violence against women around the world conclusively show that such violence is disproportionately directed against minority women.
Womanist Theology: Black Women’s Voices
by Delores S. Williams
Delores Williams is associate professor of theology and culture at Union Theological Seminary in New York City and a contributing editor of Christianity and Crisis. She is known especially for her articulation of womanist theology, a perspective defined in relationship with but differently from feminist and black theologies. This article appeared in Christianity and Crisis March 2, 1987. Copyright by Christianity and Crisis, used by permission. This text was prepared for Religion Online by John R. Bushell.
DAUGHTER: Mama, why are we brown, pink, and yellow, and our cousins are white, beige, and black?
MOTHER: Well, you know the colored race is just like a flower garden, with every color flower represented.
DAUGHTER: Mama, I’m walking to Canada and I’m taking you and a bunch of slaves with me.
MOTHER: It wouldn’t be the first time.
In these two conversational exchanges, Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist Alice Walker begins to show us what she means by the concept “womanist.” The concept is presented in Walker’s In Search of Our Mother’s Gardens, and many women in church and society have appropriated it as a way of affirming themselves as black while simultaneously owning their connection with feminism and with the Afro-American community, male and female. The concept of womanist allows women to claim their roots in black history, religion and culture.
What then is a womanist? Her origins are in the black folk expression “You acting womanish,” meaning, according to Walker, “wanting to know more and in greater depth than is good for one — outrageous audacious, courageous and willful behavior.” A womanist is also “responsible, in charge, serious.” She can walk to Canada and take others with her. She loves, she is committed, she is a universalist by temperament.
Her universality includes loving men and woman, sexually or nonsexually. She loves music, dance, the spirit, food and roundness, struggle, and she loves herself. “Regardless.”
Walker insists that a womanist is also “committed to survival and wholeness of entire people, male and female.” She is no separatist, “except for health.” A womanist is a black feminist or feminist of color. Or as Walker says, “Womanist is to feminist as purple to lavender.”
Womanist theology, a vision in its infancy, is emerging among Afro-American Christian women. Ultimately many sources — biblical, theological, ecclesiastical, social, anthropological, economic, and material from other religious traditions will inform the development of this theology. As a contribution to this process, I will demonstrate how Walker’s concept of womanist provides some significant clues for the work of womanist theologians. I will then focus on method and God-content in womanist theology. This contribution belongs to the work of prolegomena — prefatory remarks, introductory observations intended to be suggestive and not conclusive.
Codes and Contents
In her definition, Walker provides significant clues for the development of womanist theology. Her concept contains what black feminist scholar bell hooks in From Margin to Center identifies as cultural codes. These are words, beliefs, and behavioral patterns of a people that must he deciphered before meaningful communication can happen cross-culturally. Walker’s codes are female-centered and they point beyond themselves to conditions, events, meanings. and values that have crystallized in the Afro-American community around women’s activity and formed traditions.
A paramount example is mother-daughter advice: Black mothers have passed on wisdom for survival — in the white world, in the black community, and with men — for as long as anyone can remember. Female slave narratives, folk tales, and some contemporary black poetry and prose reflect this tradition. Some of it is collected in “Old Sister’s Advice to Her Daughters,” in The Book of Negro Folklore, edited by Langston Hughes and Ama Bontemps (Dodd Mead 1958).
Walker’s allusion to skin color points to a historic tradition of tension between black women over the matter of some black men’s preference for light-skinned women. Her reference to black women’s love of food and roundness points to customs of female care in the black community (including the church) associated with hospitality and nurture.
These cultural codes and their corresponding traditions are valuable resources for indicating and validating the kind of data upon which womanist theologians can reflect as they bring black women’s social, religious, and cultural experience into the discourse of theology, ethics, biblical and religious studies. Female slave narratives, imaginative literature by black women, autobiographies, the work by black women in academic disciplines, and the testimonies of black church women will be authoritative sources for womanist theologians.
Walker situates her understanding of a womanist in the context of nonbourgeois black folk culture. The literature of this culture has traditionally reflected more egalitarian relations between men and women, much less rigidity in male-female roles, and more respect for female intelligence and ingenuity than is found in bourgeois culture.
The black folk are poor less individualistic than those who are better off, they have, for generations, practiced various forms of economic sharing. For example, immediately after Emancipation mutual aid societies pooled the resources of black folk to help pay for funerals and other daily expenses. The Book of Negro Folklore describes the practice of rent parties which flourished during the Depression. The black folk stressed togetherness and a closer connection with nature. They respect knowledge gained through lived experience monitored by elders who differ profoundly in social class and worldview from the teachers and education encountered in American academic institutions. Walker’s choice of context suggests that womanist theology can establish its lines of continuity in the black community with nonbourgeois traditions less sexist than the black power and black nationalist traditions.
In this folk context, some of the black female-centered cultural codes in Walker’s definition (e.g., “Mama, I’m walking to Canada and I’m taking you and a bunch of slaves with me”) point to folk heroines like Harriet Tubman, whose liberation activity earned her the name “Moses” of her people. This allusion to Tubman directs womanist memory to a liberation tradition in black history in which women took the lead, acting as catalysts for the community’s revolutionary action and for social change. Retrieving this often hidden or diminished female tradition of catalytic action is an important task for womanist theologians and ethicists. Their research may well reveal that female models of authority have been absolutely essential for every struggle in the black community and for building and maintaining the community’s institutions.
The womanist theologian must search for the voices, actions, opinions, experience, and faith of women whose names sometimes slip into the male-centered rendering of black history, hut whose actual stories remain remote. This search can lead to such little-known freedom fighters as Milla Granson and her courageous work on a Mississippi plantation. Her liberation method broadens our knowledge of the variety of strategies black people have used to obtain freedom. According to scholar Sylvia Dannett, in Profiles in Negro Womanhood:
Milla Granson, a slave, conducted a midnight school for several years. She had been taught to read and write by her former master in Kentucky, and in her little school hundreds of slaves benefited from her learning. After laboring all day for their master, the slaves would creep stealthily to Milla’s “schoolroom” (a little cabin in a hack alley). The doors and windows
had to be kept tightly sealed to avoid discovery. Each class was composed of twelve pupils and when Milla had brought them up to the extent of her ability, she “graduated” them and took in a dozen more. Through this means she graduated hundreds of slaves. Many of whom she taught to write a legible hand forged their own passes and set out for Canada,
Women like Tubman and Granson used subtle and silent strategies to liberate themselves and large numbers of black people. By uncovering as much as possible about such female liberation, the womanist begins to understand the relation of black history to the contemporary folk expression: “If Rosa Parks had not sat down, Martin King would not have stood up.”
While she celebrates and emphasizes black women’s culture and way of being in the world, Walker simultaneously affirms black women’s historic connection with men through love and through a shared struggle for survival and for a productive quality of life (e.g., “wholeness”). This suggests that two of the principal concerns of womanist theology should he survival and community building and maintenance. The goal of this community building is, of course, to establish a positive quality of life — economic, spiritual, educational — for black women, men, and children. Walker’s understanding of a womanist as “not a separatist” (“except for health”), however, reminds the Christian womanist theologian that her concern for community building and maintenance must ultimately extend to the entire Christian community and beyond that to the larger human community.
Yet womanist consciousness is also informed by women’s determination to love themselves. “regardless.” This translates into an admonition to black women to avoid the self-destruction of hearing a disproportionately large burden in the work of community building and maintenance. Walker suggests that women can avoid this trap by connecting with women’s communities concerned about women’s rights and well-being. Her identification of a womanist as also a feminist joins black women with their feminist heritage extending back into the nineteenth century in the work of black feminists like Sojourner Truth, Frances W. Harper, and Mary Church Terrell.
In making the feminist-womanist connection, however, Walker proceeds with great caution. While affirming an organic relationship between womanists and feminists, she also declares a deep shade of difference between them (“Womanist is to feminist as purple to lavender.”) This gives womanist scholars the freedom to explore the particularities of black women’s history and culture without being guided by what white feminists have already identified as women’s issues.
But womanist consciousness directs black women away from the negative divisions prohibiting community building among women. The womanist loves other women sexually and nonsexually. Therefore, respect for sexual preferences is one of the marks of womanist community. According to Walker, homophobia has no place. Nor does “Colorism” (i.e., “yella” and half-white black people valued more in the black world than black-skinned people), which often separates black women from each other. Rather, Walker’s womanist claim is that color variety is the substance of universality. Color, like birth and death, is common to all people. Like the navel, it is a badge of humanity connecting people with people. Two other distinctions are prohibited in Walker’s womanist thinking. Class hierarchy does not dwell among women who “… love struggle, love the Folks. . . are committed to the survival and wholeness of an entire people.” Nor do women compete for male attention when they “…appreciate and prefer female culture. . . value. . . women’s emotional flexibility. . . and women’s strength.”
The intimations about community provided by Walker’s definition suggest no genuine community building is possible when men are excluded (except when women’s health is at stake). Neither can it occur when black women’s self-love, culture, and love for each other are not affirmed and are not considered vital for the community’s self-understanding. And it is thwarted if black women are expected to bear “the lion’s share” of the work and to sacrifice their well-being for the good of the group.
Yet, for the womanist, mothering and nurturing are vitally important. Walker’s womanist reality begins with mothers relating to their children and is characterized by black women (not necessarily bearers of children) nurturing great numbers of black people in the liberation struggle (e.g., Harriet Tubman). Womanist emphasis upon the value of mothering and nurturing is consistent with the testimony of many black women. The poet Carolyn Rogers speaks of her mother as the great black bridge that brought her over. Walker dedicated her novel The Third Life of Grange Copeland to her mother “…who made a way out of no way.” As a child in the black church, I heard women (and men) give thanks to God for their mothers . . . who stayed behind and pulled the wagon over the long haul.”
It seems, then, that the clues about community from Walker’s definition of a womanist suggest that the mothering and nurturing dimension of Afro-American history can provide resources for shaping criteria to measure the quality of justice in the community. These criteria could be used to assure female-male equity in the presentation of the community’s models of authority. They could also gauge the community’s division of labor with regard to the survival tasks necessary for building and maintaining community.
Womanist Theology and Method
Womanist theology is already beginning to define the categories and methods needed to develop along lines consistent with the sources of that theology. Christian womanist theological methodology needs to be informed by at least four elements: (1) a multidialogical intent, (2) a liturgical intent, (3) a didactic intent, and (4) a commitment both to reason and to the validity of female imagery and metaphorical language in the construction of theological statements.
A multidialogical intent will allow Christian womanist theologians to advocate and participate in dialogue and action with many diverse social, political, and religious communities concerned about human survival and productive quality of life for the oppressed. The genocide of cultures and peoples (which has often been instigated and accomplished by Western white Christian groups or governments) and the nuclear threat of omnicide mandates womanist participation in such dialogue/action. But in this dialogue/action the womanist also should keep her speech and action focused upon the slow genocide of poor black women, children, and men by exploitative systems denying them productive jobs, education, health care, and living space. Multidialogical activity may, like a jazz symphony, communicate some of its most important messages in what the harmony-driven conventional ear hears as discord, as disruption of the harmony in both the black American and white American social, political, and religious status quo.
If womanist theological method is informed by a liturgical intent, then womanist theology will he relevant to (and will reflect) the thought, worship, and action of the black church. But a liturgical intent will also allow womanist theology to challenge the thought/worship/action of the black church with the discordant and prophetic messages emerging from womanist participation in multidialogics. This means that womanist theology will consciously impact critically upon the foundations of liturgy, challenging the church to use justice principles to select the sources that will shape the content of liturgy. The question must be asked: “How does this source portray blackness/ darkness, women and economic justice for nonruling-class people?” A negative portrayal will demand omission of the source or its radical reformation by the black church. The Bible, a major source in black church liturgy, must also be subjected to the scrutiny of justice principles.
A didactic intent in womanist theological method assigns a teaching function to theology. Womanist theology should teach Christians new insights about moral life based on ethics supporting justice for women, survival, and a productive quality of life for poor women, children, and men. This means that the womanist theologian must give authoritative status to black folk wisdom (e.g., Brer Rabbit literature) and to black women’s moral wisdom (expressed in their literature) when she responds to the question, “How ought the Christian to live in the world?” Certainly tensions may exist between the moral teachings derived from these sources and the moral teachings about obedience, love, and humility that have usually buttressed presuppositions about living the Christian life. Nevertheless, womanist theology, in its didactic intent, must teach the church the different ways God reveals prophetic word and action for Christian living.
These intents, informing theological method, can yield a theological language whose foundation depends as much upon its imagistic content as upon reason. The language can be rich in female imagery, metaphor, and story. For the black church, this kind of theological language may be quite useful, since the language of the black religious experience abounds in images and metaphors. Clifton Johnson’s collection of black conversion experiences, God Struck Me Dead, illustrates this point.
The appropriateness of womanist theological language will ultimately reside in its ability to bring black women’s history, culture, and religious experience into the interpretive circle of Christian theology and into the liturgical life of the church. Womanist theological language must, in this sense, he an instrument for social and theological change in church and society.
Who Do You Say God Is?
Regardless of one’s hopes about intentionality and womanist theological method, questions must he raised about the God-content of the theology. Walker’s mention of the black womanist’s love of the spirit is a true reflection of the great respect Afro-American women have always shown for the presence and work of the spirit. In the black church, women (and men) often judge the effectiveness of the worship service not on the scholarly content of the sermon nor on the ritual nor on orderly process. Rather, worship has been effective if “the spirit was high,” i.e., if the spirit was actively and obviously present in a balanced blend of prayer, of cadenced word (the sermon), and of syncopated music ministering to the pain of the people.
The importance of this emphasis upon the spirit is that it allows Christian womanist theologians, in their use of the Bible, to identify and reflect upon those biblical stories in which poor oppressed women had a special encounter with divine emissaries of God, like the spirit. In the Hebrew Testament, Hagar’s story is most illustrative and relevant to Afro-American women’s experience of bondage, of African heritage, of encounter with God/emissary in the midst of fierce survival struggles. Katie Cannon among a number of black female preachers and ethicists urges black Christian women to regard themselves as Hagar’s sisters.
In relation to the Christian or New Testament, the Christian wornanist theologian can refocus the salvation story so that it emphasizes the beginning of revelation with the spirit mounting Mary, a woman of the poor: “…the Holy Spirit shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee (Luke 1:35). Such an interpretation of revelation has roots in nineteenth-century black abolitionist and feminist Sojourner Truth. Posing an important question and response, she refuted a white preacher’s claim that women could not have rights equal to men’s because Christ was not a woman. Truth asked, “Whar did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothin’ to do wid Him!” This suggests that womanist theology could eventually speak of God in a well-developed theology of the spirit. The sources for this theology are many. Harriet Tubman often “went into the spirit” before her liberation missions and claimed her strength for liberation activity came from this way of meeting God. Womanist theology has grounds for shaping a theology of the spirit informed by black women’s political action.
Christian womanist responses to the question “who do you say God is?” will he influenced by these many sources. Walker’s way of connecting womanists with the spirit is on/v one clue. The integrity of black church women’s faith, their love of Jesus, their commitment to life, love, family, and politics will also yield vital clues. And other theological voices (black liberation, feminist, Islamic, Asian, Hispanic, African, Jewish, and Western white male traditional) will provide insights relevant for the construction of the God-content of womanist theology.
Each womanist theologian will add her own special accent to the understandings of God emerging from womanist theology. But if one needs a final image to describe women coming together to shape the enterprise, Bess B. Johnson in God’s Fierce Whimsy offers an appropriate one. Describing the difference between the play of male and female children in the black community where she developed, Johnson says: the boys in the neighborhood had this game with rope. . . tug-o’-war.. till finally some side would jerk the rope away from the others, who’d fall down. . . . Girls. . . weren’t allowed to play with them in this tug-o’-war; so we figured out how to make our own rope — out of…little dandelions. You just keep adding them, one to another, and you can go on and on. . . . Anybody, even the boys, could join us. . . . The whole purpose of our game was to create this dandelion chain — that was it. And we’d keep going, creating till our mamas called us home.
Like Johnson’s dandelion chain, womanist theological vision will grow as black women come together and connect piece with piece. Between the process of creating and the sense of calling, womanist theology will one day present itself in full array, reflecting the divine spirit that connects us all.