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black history month

Pop Culture

One moment in history shot Tracy Chapman to music stardom. Watch it now.

She captivated millions with nothing but her guitar and an iconic voice.

Imagine being in the crowd and hearing "Fast Car" for the first time

While a catchy hook might make a song go viral, very few songs create such a unifying impact that they achieve timeless resonance. Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” is one of those songs.

So much courage and raw honesty is packed into the lyrics, only to be elevated by Chapman’s signature androgynous and soulful voice. Imagine being in the crowd and seeing her as a relatively unknown talent and hearing that song for the first time. Would you instantly recognize that you were witnessing a pivotal moment in musical history?

For concert goers at Wembley Stadium in the late 80s, this was the scenario.


The year was 1988. Seventy-two thousand people gathered—along with 600 million more watching along on their televisions—to see headliner Stevie Wonder as part of Nelson Mandela’s 70th birthday tribute concert.

However, technical difficulties (or perhaps some divine timing) rendered Wonder unable to perform his act. Chapman had already played a three-song set earlier in the afternoon, and yet she agreed to step up to the microphone.

Armed with nothing but herself and a guitar, the shy and stoic Chapman captivated everyone to silence. And the rest is history.

Watch:

Using just a simple story, “Fast Car” conveyed a million different themes—the challenges of class and poverty, seeking escape from a small town and yearning for freedom and new opportunity. It’s easy to see why some find the song heartbreaking, while others find it hopeful.

After the Mandela gig, the song became a worldwide hit, earning Chapman Grammy awards and shooting her to stardom. What’s more, she introduced a new wave of socially-conscious music filled with gentle, yet brutally truthful introspection. Since that fateful day, her name is forever synonymous with a quiet revolution. We are quite lucky to get to experience it so many years later.


This article originally appeared on 2.2.23

Photos from Delilah Antionette, used with permission

Just a queen sitting on her throne, NBD.

“The story of Blackness isn’t just about trauma. Blackness can be luxurious, filled with joy, and a healing experience.”

You could say this is the mantra playing on repeat in the heart of Delilah Antoinette, founder of Black Girl’s Healing House. Her organization, an invention forged out of necessity and inspired by Antoinette's own lack of resources, proudly “connects Black Women to Black Wellness.”

As a fellow advocate for spiritual healing, I was thrilled to hear Antoinette’s story and honored to share her mission. So many people feel that their circumstances—be it class, culture, or background—somehow exclude them from being able to achieve mental and emotional health. Or, even worse, they’re made to feel that way by the ignorance of others.

This was how her journey began. As a daughter to a single mother who struggled with mental illness, Antoinette had to seek a nurturing environment elsewhere. And, despite growing up “Christian-ish,” the church simply didn’t resonate like she hoped. It wasn’t until she found alternative spiritual concepts, like the Law of Attraction, affirmations and mindfulness, that she started to notice real shifts.


“I was experiencing more joy and freedom,” she told me. “That opened the door for me to explore what else was out there outside of what I knew.”

Though she was on the right path, finding a real sanctuary would still be a challenge, as most wellness spaces felt less than welcoming.

Reflecting on her experience Antoinette says: “Most of the yoga and meditation classes were filled with the privileged and I got stares and uncomfortable smiles. I even got followed around in the store.”

If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you need to feel safe in order to heal. You have to trust your environment in order to go deep into the uncomfortable and purge the pain. That can be next to impossible if you are treated like an outsider.

Knowing she couldn’t be the only Black woman struggling to find community in the wellness space, she decided to create her own.

Black Girl’s Healing House offers members free and affordable resources, classes and services related to spirituality, meditation, astrology and mindfulness.

Included in those services is reiki, one of Antoinette’s favorite modalities. Reiki is a form of energy healing that can be performed anywhere at any distance, and can even be used with children or animals. It’s a go-to when she doesn’t feel her best (same, Delilah, same).

In addition, the organization helps Black women find therapists, life coaches, herbalists, nutritionists and more to help them begin their healing journey and live healthier, happier lives. All of the professional healers listed have been personally vetted by Antoinette.

mental health for black women

A recent inspirational post from BGHH's Facebook group.

Currently, Black Girl’s Healing House has a whopping 61,000 members on Facebook alone. What makes it so successful? In a word, sisterhood.

“My team and I do a great job at setting the tone for a safe space but our members really take ownership and pride in being their sister’s keeper to make it a brave space that still holds you accountable,” says Antoinette.

This is truly a game changer for Black women, who deal with both external and internal obstacles when it comes to wellness.

For starters, there’s the sheer lack of physical access.

“If you look at our local Black communities, we have more liquor stores and car washes than recreational centers," says Antoinette. "We would have to drive 25 minute to the side of town where the roads are paved to find therapists, life coaches, juice bars, salt caves and yoga studios.”

Three BGHH members openly sharing in a safe, loving place.

Combine that with an overwhelming amount of ingrained shame surrounding mental health.

“In the Black community we have a wellness stigma that calls everything witchcraft and 'for white people' when it exists outside of church," says Antoinette. "Very few people take their time to educate themselves and fear the unknown. It's like the saying 'Black folks don’t swim.' There is 'Black folks don’t do yoga.' and 'Black folks don’t practice affirmations.'"

To that point, Antoinette adds that “a part of Black culture is the superhero complex,” in which pain is largely kept invisible in order to present strength and resilience. And sadly, all of these limitations contribute to tragic statistics, one being that Black women are half as likely to seek help as white women, according to Johns Hopkins Medicine.

But this is where Black Girl’s Healing House flips the script. Setting aside the common labels of “masculine” or “angry” or “strong” (which Antoinette astutely calls out as Black women actually being in survival mode), members of the Healing House are empowered to “discover their own brand of femininity and own it, heal in ways that it makes [them] more soft and able to receive and give, and we give Black women the voice to say 'I don’t want to be strong anymore.'"

If there’s one thing Antoinette wants other Black women to know on their healing journey, it’s that they are not alone, and change is not only possible, it’s a birthright.

“There are other Black women out there who not only have been in your shoes but have healed. There is abundance on the other side of the dark space you are in,” she says.

On the other side of that darkness is a healthy life, which Antoinette defines as having consciousness in every area of one's life: body, finances, home, mental, spirit and community. Words such as consciousness are staples of the wellness community, sometimes to the point where it loses all meaning. But in seeing Antoinette’s mission, and her creation, I am reminded of consciousness’ true essence. To become aware of the stories we tell ourselves and then to acknowledge our ability to rewrite those stories … it’s the most freeing thing in the world. Black Girl’s Healing House helps Black women to drop the heaviness of the past, shedding the former skin of victimhood and step into their true feminine power.

Or, as Antoinette quips, to “release the bags Erykah Badu referred to. Pack light.”

Antoinette has big plans for her Healing House, hoping to see hundreds of thousands of sisters join. And, using her background in fashion and design, she is currently designing luxury vegan leather totes as a creative catalyst for self-care conversation.

“Each bag has a name, a zodiac sign and tells the story of my own healing from lack of mindset, mother wounds, father wounds, depression, anxiety and postpartum," she says. "My vision is that when a woman sees herself in these bags, it gives her the confidence to tell her own healing story and share it with others. Someone else's testimony is someone else's medicine.”

Um, I’ll take a pink one in Scorpio Sun, Leo Moon, with Taurus Rising, please.

If you’re interested to learn more, or get some help for your own healing journey, you can find the Black Girl’s Healing House website here. Or go ahead and join their Facebook group, and create your own healing community.

“Downton Abbey” fans have been rejoicing over Julian Fellowes’ newest historical drama “The Gilded Age.” Instead of London at the beginning of the 20th century, audiences are transported to (the truly new) New York of 1882, where aristocrats Agnes van Rhijn and Ada Brook reside.

Despite the different backdrops, “The Gilded Age” has much of the same aspects as its predecessor: conflict between the ways of old and new, weighty scrambles up the social ladder and, of course, the rich emotional narratives of the privileged class.

But “The Gilded Age” does offer something that “Downton Abbey” does not, and it’s a piece of history rarely portrayed or taught, yet real and important all the same: the story of the Black elite.


Young white woman Marian Brook (played by Louisa Jacobson) is surprised when she shows up to the home of her new friend Peggy Scott (played by Denée Brown), hoping to offer her a “gift” of old used shoes. Marian quickly realizes the error of her bias. Her Black friend, daughter to wealthy and educated parents, living in an opulent home with her own staff, had want for nothing. Certainly not worn out shoes.

This picture of Black excellence–where Black men and women enjoy money and influence—rarely makes an appearance in film and television, and in general is an overlooked aspect of history. In an interview with The New York Times, "The Gilded Age"’s historical consultant Erica Armstrong Dunbar pointed out, “What does the average person know about the Black elite in New York in the 1880s? The answer is very little if anything.”

As someone who grew up not even knowing about Tulsa and Black Wall Street until well into my twenties, and still knowing very little beyond that, I’d have to agree.

Julian Fellowes aims to remedy that in his depiction of the Scott family, and considers it a duty of artistic integrity. In an interview with The Columbian, he shared “I wanted very much to make ‘The Gilded Age’ distinctively American. And I didn’t believe I could do that without having a Black narrative and a Black family alongside the others. It just didn’t feel right to, actually.”

And it seems that Fellowes has done his due diligence, not only consulting with with Dunbar, but in co-creating the show with Black writer Sonja Warfield, as well as reading books like “Black Gotham,” which traces author Carla Peterson’s family history in the prosperous, upper-class Black communities of New York. According to The Columbian, the character of Peggy is even inspired by multiple real life trailblazers of the time, including Ida B. Wells (NAACP founder), Julia C. Collins (America’s first cited published Black female author) and Susan McKinney Steward (New York’s first Black female doctor).

Historical dramas featuring affluent, high-class Black characters are so rare, even Broadway legend Audra McDonald, who plays Peggy’s mother Donna Scott, was shocked to discover her role didn’t “perpetuate the tired old stereotype.”

On The Grio’s podcast “Acting Up,” McDonald shared how “people forget that during Reconstruction, with the constitutional amendments and emancipation and the end of slavery and giving Black men the right to vote and hold office, a lot of formerly enslaved people made big strides very quickly. Blacks had their own communities in Brooklyn and what was called ‘the Tenderloin’ at the time. They needed to have businesses to serve their own communities, and so that’s how you ended up with Black pharmacists and dentists and doctors and undertakers and lawyers and all of that. We needed all these things to serve our own communities — our own thriving communities, and there was a social structure that existed within that.”

Once she read the script, McDonald was thrilled to illuminate this often hidden world, “with all of its intricacies and all of its mess.”

Intricate, indeed. And interesting, to boot. As well as a really amazing example of what can happen when empowering conversations of representation are had. I can only imagine how much more nuanced our understanding of history (Black history, in particular) would be, had families like the Scotts been a regular part of the curriculum. But thankfully, we have creators like Fellowes, who understand that historical fiction, when told authentically, can embody the spirit of those untold stories, shaping our minds and hearts here in the present.

If you ask the average baseball fan about great Negro League players, they’ll probably bring up people like Josh Gibson, Satchel Paige or James “Cool Papa” Bell. Obviously, there are plenty of Negro League players that should be on the tip of any sport’s fan’s tongue, but the discrimination at the time meant that a lot of great names were never elevated to the status they deserved.

Google is paying tribute to a Negro League player from the ‘40s and ‘50s who should be known by Americans everywhere whether they like baseball or not. Marcenia “Toni” Stone, the first woman in history to play as a regular in a men’s major baseball league, is the subject of a new Doodle that’s gracing the front page of the search engine.

Stone should be known for her play on the field as well as the incredible tenacity that allowed her to break the gender barrier at a time when the thought of women in sports ruffled a lot of feathers.

“I am a woman, a Black woman, and I want and will play men's baseball. I'm not even getting paid the same amount of money these guys are making. But I do it because I love the game, and I do it to show other women that they can do it too. Remember, a woman has her dream too,” she used to say.

The Doodle was created by California-based artist Monique Wray.


via Google

Stone loved baseball as a child but she was only allowed to play on the girls’ softball team and their level of play just wasn't good enough for her. So she hung around the high school baseball team and badgered the coach until he gave her a shot.

"I just couldn’t get rid of her until I gave her a chance,’’ the coach recalled. ‘‘Every time I chased her away, she would go around the corner and come back to plague me again.’’

At just 15 years of age, she broke the gender barrier by joining the all-male semi-pro Twin Cities Colored Giants in Minneapolis, Minnesota. After moving to the west coast to live with her sister, she did it again in the spring of 1949 by talking her way onto the roster of the San Francisco Sea Lions. After learning that she was paid less than her male teammates, she joined the New Orleans Creoles, where she played for three seasons.

In 1953, Stone joined the Indianapolis Clowns where she played second base. She took over for Henry “Hank" Aaron, who had just signed with the Milwaukee Braves. In 1954, she played for the legendary Kansas City Monarchs but quit after the season due to a lack of playing time.

Life in the Negro Leagues was difficult for the male players, and for a woman, it was even harder. She endured barbs being thrown at her from the audience as well as her fellow players, who couldn't stand having a woman on the team.

Stone was taunted at times by teammates, once being told, “Go home and fix your husband some biscuits,” but she was undeterred.

Stone claims that during her playing days she got a hit off of the legendary pitcher Satchel Paige, but the anecdote has been disputed.

“He was so good that he'd ask batters where they wanted it, just so they'd have a chance. He'd ask, ‘You want it high? You want it low? You want it right in the middle? Just say.’ People still couldn't get a hit against him,” she said, according to Baseball Reference.

“So I get up there and he says, ‘Hey T., how do you like it?’ And I said, ‘It doesn't matter, just don't hurt me.’ When he wound up—he had these big old feet—all you could see was his shoe. I stood there shaking, but I got a hit. Right out over second base. Happiest moment in my life,” she continued.

After Stone retired from baseball she moved to Oakland, California to be with her husband.

Stone was inducted into the International Women's Sports Hall of Fame in 1993 and the Minnesota Sports Hall of Fame on February 9, 2020

Stone passed away in 1996 at the age of 75.