The Illusion of Strength

an analysis on the "strong, independent black woman" trope

People will hear “representation matters,” and think that phrase just means including diverse characters in a story. But representation is far more than just placing a black or queer character on screen: it’s about seeing a storyline and a character that depicts real and complex diverse people. So often stories will get high praise for having a visually diverse cast, but the diverse characters end up merely being caricatures or two-dimensional characters that lack depth.

When a voice is underrepresented in media, there is no way to tell their stories. Black women’s voices along with other women of color’s voices are not heard nearly enough for their stories to be complex and not fit into stereotypical boxes. White writers and men of color have unfortunate habits when they write female characters of color and end up placing harmful stereotypes on them. The complexities that apply to most humans do not apply to black women characters.

There are a few notable tropes writers give black women in media. The “strong, independent, Black woman” trope, the “loud, sassy, and promiscuous black best friend,” and the “angry black woman” trope. Of course, there are other tropes, but these are the three overarching categories that other tropes fit into.

Black women are the side characters who get the jokes, not the love. And when black women do go through trauma in media, we don’t see how they cope with that trauma and build themselves back up. We just see the events bounce off their shoulders like they’re a superhero. The” strong, independent black woman” trope is especially harmful because it does not allow Black women to be anything but what people tell them to be, urging them to shut off their vulnerability and endure trauma silently.

For instance, Tiana in The Princess and the Frog. Tiana is shown as an independent woman who needs no help to buy the building for her restaurant, but all her character development happens while she is a frog. Viewers aren’t seeing a black woman grow and learn to let people in, but rather see a black woman work hard and still fall short for 20 minutes, a frog learns to love, and then the last five minutes they see a black woman happy with her dreams.

And of course, this is a kid’s movie. The problem is that these ideas manifest in the people who watch the media. The most emotionally vulnerable we see Tiana is as a frog, not a human. With The Princess and the Frog, there is a disconnect for the viewers from what the true meaning of the movie should be. The story is supposed to be about how everyone needs love, grace, and happiness. It’s about learning that labor isn’t all life is about. But this lesson doesn’t hit as hard when the main character is a frog for most of the movie.

We don’t see black women cry, so they must not. We don’t see black women be anything but strong. They don’t need a man or woman to save them because they have themselves. When we only present Black women as strong and independent, we are also saying that Black women do not need to be protected. We build the subconscious idea that Black women can deal with anything that is handed to them.

This is almost the case in The Street by Ann Petry. The novel follows a single black mom, Lutie Johnson, who lives in 1940s Harlem, New York. She is a strong character, characterized by her grit and determination to amount to something more than someone living paycheck-to-paycheck. While Lutie is a strong character, she also has visible vulnerabilities. Lutie’s anger, desires, and sorrow are depicted in a way that allows readers to empathize with her situation. Continuously, Lutie is failed by systems and combats the negative perceptions of single black mothers. The humanization of black women throughout this novel is important because it deepens how we view black women and their situations.

Lutie Johnson’s story shows that black women aren’t strong because they can deal with anything that is thrown their way, but rather that black women are strong because they are forced to deal with oppressive systems without any protection. Because of the media we consume, our first thoughts are not “how can I protect black women to make sure they don’t deal with this baggage on their own?” Instead, we think, “slay queen! You’re so strong I could never.” Precisely, you could never because you’ve never been forced into a situation where you had to.

So often black women are ignored and their situations are not taken seriously because we believe that black women can overcome anything. The black woman is left unprotected because of this misguided idea that her strength and independence will carry her through life, but Independence is a myth. Everyone needs someone to lean on. Western culture is fixated on isolation, but isolation is the exact opposite of what we need. We need interpersonal connection and community. We need people inside and outside of our communities to advocate on our behalf along with us.

Our culture sees strength as a compliment. The meaning of strength is dependent on what white men deem it to be and usually, it means alienating your emotions. It means setting aside how you’re feeling and seeing how much trauma you can endure. When the idea of strength is so closely related to the idea of masculinity, the stereotypes follow, thus painting black women as always being strong, subsequently hyper-masculinizes them.

With the hypermasculinization of black women comes the lack of protection. Men are strong, meaning they don’t need physical protection from anyone. If black women are also strong, then they also don’t need protection. This train of thought is juvenile and patriarchal, but it is the simplest conclusion to come to. Strength should not determine who is protected and who is not.

One of the most protected people in the world is the white woman. Portrayals of the damsel in distress is frequently done with a white woman as the lead. Subconsciously, our culture wants to protect white women from harm. Black characters get the opposite treatment.

Iris West in The Flash, for example, is tormented by viewers for assuming a leadership position within Team Flash, and when she’s emotionally vulnerable, she gets called weak. When Iris needs help, viewers complain that she’s needy and a hinderance to success. It doesn’t matter what she does, people will find a problem with it because they are not used to seeing black women as complex characters that can go through hardships. Whatever Iris does is deemed out of character because there is a monolith of what a black woman should be.

Representation really does matter because it allows people to feel seen. Growing up, there were few black women leads that I saw being not only emotionally vulnerable, but go through hard times where you see them struggle and find themselves again. Without seeing other black women experience that, I felt like I couldn’t be emotionally vulnerable, or I had to stay strong for others and give them a space that I couldn’t take up.

These tropes we build in media and culture cultivate real-life problems and cause harm to real people.  Life will always imitate art, so if we push ideas and stereotypes that we see in media onto real people, we are bound to view them as two-dimensional and void of any deeper characterization.