A quote often attributed to James Baldwin expresses a profound truth, “To be African American is to be African without any memory and American without any privilege.”

African Americans endure systemic and institutionalized racism as people of African descent, while also not being able to identify with any specific ancestral country — and hold on to the language, culture, and heritage that comes with it — because the passing down of these ancestral roots was forbidden in slavery.

Initially, I thought this experience was unique to the African American community. However, after speaking with two Afro Latinas — Black women in Brazil who are leading powerful efforts to advocate for Afro-Brazilian rights — I realized that the oppression and cultural homicide for those of us who descend from enslaved Africans is universal across the Americas.

The Racism and Sexism That Black Women in Brazil Face

Despite 56 percent of Brazilians identifying as Black — the largest population of African descent outside of Africa — Blackness in Brazil is still often linked to inferiority.

RELATED: How MLK Sought to Restore Dignity to Black People

Carolina Almeida, a philosopher, internationalist, and political scientist, shared that as children, they are raised with the understanding that the farther they are away from Blackness, the greater the person they are going to be.

She says, “So, identifying as a Black woman or as a Black man in Brazil is a great step, actually a great social and, also, emotional step to be achieved, because we are constantly being persuaded by everything around us that being Black is bad, it’s ugly, it’s not interesting.”

In a 2022 letter to the Baha’is in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, the Universal House of Justice, the globally elected governing council of the Baha’i Faith, discussed how this “crisis of identity is directly related to the spread of prejudice.”

Leticia Leobet, a social scientist specializing in anthropology, added:

In terms of my daily life as a Brazilian, the impact of racism added to misogyny is notable. And more than in my daily life, it has an impact on the construction of [my] self, my inner identity. So, it is an action that devoids you from any perspective of [the] future — who you want to be, what you want to do, and how you see yourself in the world. So you lose all that. We are forged in a way that we don’t believe in our potential, in our capacities.

Her experience echoes the insights shared by the Universal House of Justice in a 2020 letter to the Baha’is of the United States, which emphasized how racism suppresses individuals’ abilities to realize their full potential:

Racism is a profound deviation from the standard of true morality. It deprives a portion of humanity of the opportunity to cultivate and express the full range of their capability and to live a meaningful and flourishing life, while blighting the progress of the rest of humankind.

Carolina says, “For us Black women in Brazil, especially, we are always hitting this glass ceiling because you can see, but you cannot achieve” due to “social and political barriers.”

These challenges prevent many from pursuing professions like becoming physicians or engineers, and, as she noted, “In Brazil, the Black women have been at the [bottom] of the social pyramid since slavery.” 

Stepping into leadership roles in politics is particularly difficult, and this struggle is so ingrained that it affects their mindset, limiting their ability to envision themselves in positions of power. Carolina says, “I would never have imagined I would be working inside the UN [United Nations]…and the Baha’i International Community has helped us a lot on this path.”

How Geledés Advocates for Afro Brazilians

Carolina represents Geledés – Instituto da Mulher Negra in the United Nations’ periodic review mechanisms and the G20, while Leticia serves as an international advisor for the organization. Founded by Black women in 1988, Geledés is a Brazilian non-governmental organization that combats racism and sexism in all its forms while ensuring equal access to rights and opportunities for people of African descent.

In September 2022, Geledés was granted consultative status with the United Nations Economic and Social Council (ECOSOC), enabling the organization to access various human rights mechanisms and special events. Since obtaining this status, Geledés has been able to independently produce shadow reports requested by UN committees, focusing specifically on the urgent needs of women and girls of African descent in Brazil, who face the harshest violations. These detailed reports assess the current situation and offer recommendations for actions the Brazilian government should take. Notably, many of these recommendations have been integrated into the official guidance provided by UN committees to Brazil.

Geledés tackles a variety of critical issues, including hunger and poverty, violence against people of African descent, the mass incarceration of Black people, public health disparities, economic crises, climate change, and religious freedom. Additionally, the organization highlights the significant problem of violence against women and girls of African descent within the Public Health System. The UN often cites the data collected by Geledés to advocate for the Brazilian government to take action against femicide.

RELATED: Over 90,000 Black Women and Girls Are Missing and Forgotten

Geledés is mentored by Iradj Eghrari, an international consultant and former member of the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha’is of Brazil. As a Baha’i, Iradj recognizes that Geledés’ goals align with one of the missions of the Baha’i Faith, which is to be “an upholder and defender of the victim of oppression.” He expresses his support, stating, “Religion is converting your spiritual principles into action.”

How Everyone Can Help Eradicate Misogynoir

As we think of how we can eradicate misogynoir, this intersectionality of racism and sexism that is wounding Black women in Brazil and across the globe, let’s call to mind the following words from the Universal House of Justice: 

To distrust, fear, hate, or discriminate against another person or a whole group on the basis of ethnicity is a spiritual disease. It is also a scourge that infects social structures and causes instability. In this light, eradicating ethnic prejudice requires transformation at the level of both the individual and the social environment.

At the individual level, Iradj says “we have to empower women of African descent to recognize their potential.” This empowerment is “not a question of just giving some tools,” it’s embracing, loving, and being there for them. At the level of the social environment, Iradj expresses the need for us “to have policies established” and change “racist structures.”

He continued, “So what I can do as an individual is to implement action. This thought of: how can I be of service to another human being?”

Tierney Sutton, a nine-time Grammy-nominated jazz vocalist, raises awareness of systemic racism in the United States with her new single, “Good People.”

“Good People,” which was officially released today, is a satirical song that focuses on the wealth gap, housing discrimination, residential segregation, and historic violence against the Black community.

As someone who has watched this music video many times, I was excited to interview Tierney about her inspiration for this powerful and educational song.

Radiance Talley: Hi, Tierney! Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions. I noticed that you included a quote from the Baha’i writings about justice in your music video. Can you share how long you have been a Baha’i and what attracted you to the Baha’i Faith?

Tierney Sutton: I learned of the Baha’i Faith in 1980 when I was in High School in Milwaukee, WI. I declared myself a Baha’i on July 4th, 1981. What attracted me was the writings of Shoghi Effendi about race in the United States. His insight felt like it was from God.

Radiance: How did you become aware of systemic racism in the U.S.?

Tierney: My father was a civil rights lawyer in Milwaukee, and certain things were understood in our household and mentioned frequently by my father and mother. I grew up with a serious mistrust of police and knew that there was serious sentencing disparity and deadly racism in the justice system. However, I think I was a little bit like the character in my video in certain ways. I didn’t learn specifically about the economic underpinnings of this country and the systems that were intentionally put in place to keep money where it began. 

A Baha’i friend, Idola Scimeca, told me about eight years ago, as we prepared an evening to study racism in America, “You don’t understand Tierney. This was done consciously.” I found the podcast “Scene On Radio” Season 2: “Seeing White” to be very helpful in opening my eyes. Also, the book “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents” by Isabel Wilkerson.

Radiance: As you know, Shoghi Effendi, the Guardian of the Baha’i Faith, stated that “racial prejudice” is our nation’s “most vital and challenging issue.” How do the Baha’i writings guide your approach to ending racism in the U.S.?

Tierney: The writings of Shoghi Effendi are my guide. I’ve quoted them over and over to friends when discussing race in the U.S. As far as I can tell, “The Advent of Divine Justice” is the only Baha’i book that actually gives different spiritual advice to human beings based on race — and yet, growing up in the United States, it seems so obvious that we white Americans do suffer from a “usually inherent and at times subconscious sense of superiority” and we often display a “patronizing attitude” — these are the spiritual deficits we need to overcome. In the United States, overcoming racism is a spiritual prerequisite to healing the world, and, as I understand Shoghi Effendi’s counsel, white people need to do it first, not expecting any response (he says that specifically) and recognizing “grievous and slow-healing wounds.” 

It also seems logical to me that in order for Black Americans to “forget the past,” as Shoghi Effendi tells them, white Americans have to embrace the past and fully absorb it and understand it. I look at the U.S. as a traumatized, insecure teenager who can’t admit its wrongdoing and faults and pretends that it’s perfect. Only when white America really sits with the brutality and injustice that has been and is American racism will we be able to move forward.

Radiance: Yes, I believe “The Advent of Divine Justice” is the most powerful book for racial healing in the U.S. I can see how the Baha’i writings inspired you to write your latest single. How did you come up with the title “Good People”?

Tierney: I think white people are very attached to the idea that we are “Good People,” and, honestly, the hypocrisy of that insistent self-perception in the face of our past — and our present — kind of makes me crazy.

Radiance: Would you like to share any of the personal experiences, lessons, or collaborations that led to the composition of this music video? 

Tierney: I was so lucky to find the unbelievably gifted Ethan Woldenberg to create this video with me. I gave him a storyboard, and we got together and “spotted” the song (kind of like what filmmakers do with finished films before adding music — but in this case, it was the reverse process.) This means I wrote out song lyrics and put the kind of images and headlines under each one that might reinforce the message. For example, I had originally written a verse mentioning freeways and encouraged Ethan to add that idea through the images. 

The music was a big collaboration — like all the music I’ve done. I wrote the lyrics, but my old bandmate, bass player Trey Henry, sent a phenomenal bassline (he actually sent a few to choose from), and then Rob Domos and Ben Spriggs played with some chord structures. It was a long process of several months. I also turned to some friends who were active with me in a Baha’i Rooting Out Racism group at that time and asked them what areas I should write about.

Radiance: How do you hope your song will impact others? 

Tierney: I think once things are seen, they cannot truly be unseen. I retain optimism that humans (even white Americans) desire justice and fairness. I know my tone in the video is quite snarky, but everything in the video is true. I believe that people can deny systemic racism only until they look at money. Then it’s game over. That’s why no one in the white culture wants to talk about it!

Radiance: What unique role do the arts have in advancing social justice? 

Tierney: I’ve done a lot of things in a 30-year music career, but this feels like the most important, and oddly, it’s because the song is “catchy” somehow. It feels like the medicine might go down this way. At least, I hope so! It feels like what I was supposed to do.

Radiance: Yes, the Baha’i writings say, “Art can better awaken such noble sentiments than cold rationalizing, especially among the mass of the people.” And, your song is definitely catchy! Where can people go to listen to or buy “Good People”? 

Tierney: The song is available on all platforms. The 10-song album, which is also called “Good People,” will be released on March 1, 2024.

Radiance: If people would like to attend one of your live musical performances, where can they find the schedule for your tour? 

Tierney: The best thing is to put your name on my email list at tierneysutton.com, but you can also follow me on Instagram (tierneysutton_music), on X (Twitter) (@tierneysutton), or on my Facebook music page (Tierney Sutton Music). I’m currently performing in New York at Smoke Jazz Club from Jan 31 to Feb 4 and have upcoming shows in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Denver, Wichita, and Cincinnati. I get around. Send your friends.

Radiance: Attending one of your live performances was a pleasure. Thank you, Tierney, for discussing your inspiration and creative collaborations. I was honored to cameo in your music video. I believe “Good People” will inspire further study, reflections, and conversations about this “most vital and challenging issue” of racism in the U.S. Be sure to follow Tierney on social media and check out her new single, “Good People,” below:

Latino culture is a culture of warmth — of family, food, hard work, and celebration through thick and thin. This culture of connection keeps us going through life’s challenges, especially if we’re immigrants in the United States. It allows us to connect with people from all walks of life — and begin to fix some cultural wounds.

In Latin America, you might use “Black” as a friendly nickname for a darker-skinned friend in a way that would be utterly inappropriate in the United States. In Latino culture, the same racial taboos do not exist, and friendly conversation tends to involve much more teasing and outspokenness. But racism and colorism are still alive and well in Latino culture, often undetected as such. The legacy of colonization pits people of different skin tones and ancestry against each other, creating biases that can be very difficult to shed. Understanding those complex relationships and their effect on our shared history is crucial — as is doing something about it. 

Growing up in Paraguay, I saw how the colonial Spanish caste system — where Europeans and their children were ranked above the Indigenous people, who were, in turn, ranked above the Black population — affects the way people perceive themselves. Even in Paraguay’s warm, welcoming culture, where the Guarani language and Yerba Mate are widely celebrated, pale skin and light-colored eyes are openly valued above darker skin and darker hair, and Indigenous features are considered undesirable. Anti-Black language persists in our jokes, our beauty standards, and our biases. You may call a friend “Black” in a loving way — but to actually ascribe African heritage to their identity would still be regarded as an insult in many spaces. 

While we may often wave these ways of thinking off as ignorance instead of malice, understanding our history reveals these behaviors’ sinister context: It results from hundreds of years of colonization’s brainwashing — instilling self-hatred and prejudice within the local population. 

For other Baha’is of Latino descent and me, the Baha’i writings provide clear guidance on eliminating culturally ingrained prejudices and working to foster unity. 

The Baha’i Writings say, “God is no respecter of persons on account of either color or race…. Inasmuch as all were created in the image of God, we must bring ourselves to realize that all embody divine possibilities. If you go into a garden and find all the flowers alike in form, species and color, the effect is wearisome to the eye. The garden is more beautiful when the flowers are many-colored and different.”

For many of us, coming to the United States is an awakening because many conversations on systemic racism — and pushing for diversity and inclusive language — are only beginning in our home countries. Coming to the United States is often a culture shock that requires that we redefine our identities. Learning, understanding, and adjusting our behaviors takes time, particularly given the unique position Latino Americans — who are, according to Pew Research, the second-most discriminated against ethnic group in the United States, after African Americans — often find themselves in when immigrating here.

Nearly 1 in 3 people in federal prisons are Latinos, and Latino men are twice as likely to be incarcerated for drug-related offenses than white men, despite equal offense rates. At the same time, Latinas earn 54 cents, and Black women earn 62 cents for every dollar earned by a white man. And yet, Latinx people still enjoy many privileges in American society that our Black brothers and sisters do not.  

Lina Boothby-Zapata, a Colombian immigrant, Baha’i, and social worker living in Massachusetts, finds that her Colombian heritage helps her in her daily work. “When I’m working with Latino families, I feel more empathy from them; we speak the same language, understand our culture, know our needs, and we know that there are Latin American countries where there is a lot of poverty. We also both know the immigration process, so they know I’m aware of what they’re talking about.”

But Lina also works with families from many other cultures, including European immigrants and African American families. “I feel the [cultural] differences more then,” she says. “When I speak English, people immediately perceive my accent.” 

She uses her story as a way to connect with them and establish trust. She notes, however, that interactions can still come with tense moments. African American families are often suspicious of government agencies due to the racial injustice that persists in the system, particularly when it comes to child protective services. Even as a social worker with a sincere desire to assist these families, Lina sometimes struggles to build trust with them in the face of a long history of inequality.

Even in diverse communities of color across Latin America, prejudice still manifests itself, says Eugenio Marcano, a Dominican geography and soil science professor living in Massachusetts. “My culture is a happy and open-arms culture,” says Eugenio. “Dominicans live with the doors of our homes open, and everybody is welcome to visit at any moment, no appointments needed. But many Dominicans, unfortunately, do have some xenophobic feelings against Haitians caused by historical and political disputes between the two countries.” 

For Eugenio, the Baha’i Faith’s complete rejection of any form of prejudice offered a vision of how a spiritual approach can begin to heal these ancient wounds. “The Baha’i Faith is clear about equality of races, gender, nationalities,” Eugenio says. “I just loved the Faith even more when I saw how much it emphasizes this. Dominicans would benefit enormously in understanding these principles of equality to deal with the xenophobic issues we have against our Haitians brothers and sisters.” 

In California, Rubi Pacheco-Rivera finds that the Baha’i Writings have helped her understand this complex relationship between Indigenous, African, and Spanish heritage in a spiritual light — and see how that history affects where her family comes from. 

“Puerto Ricans have African ancestry in addition to Spanish and Native Taino,” she tells me. “We have a long history of colonization, and although residents are U.S citizens, the island remains greatly forgotten and under-resourced. This tiny island, which is only 110 miles wide by 35 miles long, has been devastated recently by Hurricane Maria and almost daily earthquakes since December 2020.”

Rubi looks to the Baha’i Writings to explore the spiritual significance of Puerto Rico’s culture — particularly in relation to its African ancestry. Baha’u’llah, the prophet and founder of the Baha’i Faith, compared Black people “to the black pupil of the eye surrounded by the white. ‘In this black pupil you see the reflection of that which is before it, and through it the light of the Spirit shines forth.’” In 1953, Shoghi Effendi, the Guardian of the Baha’i Faith, described Black people as “pure-hearted and the spiritually receptive.”

These writings inspire Rubi’s understanding of her own culture and her role in promoting it in society. “The Puerto Rican people’s ability to be joyous even while enduring a long history of hardships reminds me of their special capacity as people of the African Diaspora — “Pupil of the Eye” — which I believe is the reason for their resiliency,” she explained. “I’ve always been proud of my culture and especially proud to have had opportunities to share it with others.” 

In college, while earning her degree in business, Rubi channeled this love into her work at her university’s multicultural affairs office. After graduation, she coordinated the Puerto Rican Festival of Philadelphia for 5 years through her job at a Latino non-profit organization. 

“After spending time in Mexico and seeing the social and economic disparities there, I returned with a desire to serve the Latinx community in Philadelphia,” Rubi says. “This was the beginning of what became a 15-plus year career in bringing resources to communities of color.” 

Like Rubi, Lina uses her culture to bridge cultural gaps in her work with families of color — establishing bonds of love and understanding to work against the prejudice that so often divides us. “I tell people, ‘If you have difficulty understanding my accent, just tell me. I’ll explain myself again, no problem!’ I tell them about my country, where I’m from, that I speak Spanish — and that we can work together to solve any problem.”

Lina’s desire for these cultural connections drew her to the Baha’i Faith as she began to participate in regular interfaith prayer gatherings organized by some Baha’is in Cambridge, Massachusetts. 

“What attracted me the most was the inclusion and diversity,” Lina says. “Sometimes we would count the number of languages we would say prayers in, and once we counted like 17 or 20 languages! That was so beautiful.

“Seeing that plurality and diversity in language — and everyone connected, able to say the same prayer in many different languages — it was very easy for me to see that we are all the same, we are all one human race,” Lina says. “If we treat each other with respect, we can understand each other.”

Many of you may know the tragic story of Eric Garner — a 43-year-old African American man who was put in a chokehold by a New York City police officer in 2014. He was heard on video saying, “I can’t breathe” 11 times before he died.

But you may not know the sad fate of his daughter, Erica Garner, who died three years later from brain damage following a heart attack at just 27 years old. She left behind a four-month-old son and eight-year-old daughter.

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Erica Garner was an activist who led a protest march in New York City after a grand jury decided not to indict the police officer involved in her father’s death. Although justice was denied to her family, Erica actively fought for the rights of people of color until the day she died. Weeks before she passed away, she said, “I’m struggling right now with the stress and everything. This thing, it beats you down. The system beats you down to where you can’t win.”

Her sister, Emerald Snipes Garner, spoke of the accumulative stress that led to Erica’s death at a young age. She compared it to playing a game of Jenga where pieces were pulled out of her, ripping her apart, until she collapsed.

Understanding the stress and pain that people of African descent have endured for centuries, Shoghi Effendi, the Guardian of the Baha’i Faith, advised white people in 1938 “to master their impatience of any lack of responsiveness on the part of a people who have received, for so long a period, such grievous and slow-healing wounds.” Baha’is believe that racial prejudice is “the most vital and challenging issue” confronting the United States.

In 1991, the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha’is of the United States wrote that “the deepening despair of minorities and the poor make the need for solutions ever more pressing and urgent.”

The Mental and Physical Health Effects of Racism

“Racism is a form of violence that is perpetrated and reinforced by institutional power,” wrote Benjamin Aguilera, a behavioral health researcher pursuing a master’s in psychological science, in an email to me. 

“This institutional power can be thought of as the practices and policies that allow racism and the effects of racism to persist in our society (segregation, redlining, etc.). When someone commits a racist act, no matter how subtle, they are communicating that they believe you to be inferior solely based on your minoritized racial identity when compared to their white identity. This can be very traumatizing and dehumanizing to people of color and can lead to negative mental and physical health outcomes.”

A meta-analysis of data from 293 studies published between 1983 and 2013 found that “racism can impact health via several recognized pathways: (1) reduced access to employment, housing and education and/or increased exposure to risk factors (e.g., avoidable contact with police); (2) adverse cognitive/emotional processes and associated psychopathology; (3) allostatic load and concomitant patho-physiological processes; (4) diminished participation in healthy behaviors (e.g., sleep and exercise) and/or increased engagement in unhealthy behaviors (e.g., alcohol consumption) either directly as stress coping, or indirectly, via reduced self-regulation; and (5) physical injury as a result of racially-motivated violence.”

Their research found that whether a person of color experienced internalized, interpersonal, or systemic racism, racism was associated with poorer mental health, including depression, anxiety, psychological distress, lower self-esteem and life satisfaction, and poorer physical health.

Dr. Arline Geronimus, a public health researcher and professor, coined the term “weathering” to describe the sense of erosion of a person’s body from constant stress. In an interview with NPR, she shared, “…what I’ve seen over the years of my research and lifetime is that the stressors that impact people of color are chronic and repeated through their whole life course, and in fact, may even be at their height in the young adult-through-middle-adult ages rather than in early life. And that increases a general health vulnerability — which is what weathering is.”

“This chronic stress disrupts the regular cortisol cycle, which could negatively impact sleep, cardiovascular health, blood sugar levels, and the immune system,” explained Benjamin.

“I believe that stress from experiencing racism and discrimination has contributed to health issues I have had throughout my lifetime. I believe that these effects arise from subtle forms of racism (microaggressions) and the accumulative stress that arises from them, systemic injustices such as a lack of generational wealth and healthcare resources, or from more overt forms of racism like when a domestic terrorist opened fire on a Wal-Mart in El Paso, Texas in 2019 while targeting the Latinx community. He killed 23 people.”

How We Can Combat the Mental and Physical Health Effects of Racism

Professor Geronimus believes that it is important for people of color to have access to healthcare to combat these health effects of racism. 

“So you may be hypertensive from weathering but if you have good access to healthcare, you get diagnosed early, you get it treated. You learn what you need to do with your diet to make it a little less likely to turn into its more pernicious and life-threatening form. We’ve seen evidence, in some of our studies where we’ve compared Blacks in very high-poverty areas to Blacks in more middle-class neighborhoods, and what we’ve seen is that those in the higher-class neighborhoods do have much longer life expectancy than those in the poor neighborhoods. But they spend most of that extra life with chronic conditions and possibly disabled. Or, with a variety of morbidities than whites with the same incomes and educations, living in the same neighborhoods,” she said.

Engaging in healthy daily practices that reduce stress, such as exercise, prayer, meditation, and artistic forms of expression, are great ways to prevent stress-causing illnesses as well.

Additionally, as a researcher who focuses on health and multicultural psychology, Benjamin examines the “factors that could contribute to resilience when experiencing racism. A few are social support, community resilience, and identity pride. All these factors involve having the resources provided by a supportive community of your peers who understand what you are going through.”

The Baha’i writings say that the “first and inescapable obligation” of the Baha’i community is “to nurture, encourage, and safeguard every minority…” This involves safeguarding marginalized communities from all forms of harm and providing safe, nurturing spaces where victims of oppression can heal, encourage, and empower each other.

“Racism, one of the most baneful and persistent evils, is a major barrier to peace,” wrote the Universal House of Justice, the globally-elected governing council of the Baha’i Faith, in 1985. 

“Its practice perpetrates too outrageous a violation of the dignity of human beings to be countenanced under any pretext. Racism retards the unfoldment of the boundless potentialities of its victims, corrupts its perpetrators, and blights human progress. Recognition of the oneness of mankind, implemented by appropriate legal measures, must be universally upheld if this problem is to be overcome.”

Everyone must do their part to promote the oneness of humanity by working to dismantle these oppressive systems and advocate for racial justice and equity in their personal and professional lives. This is necessary for both the peace of individuals and the tranquility of the world.

Every childbirth should end with peace and joy as the mother finally gets to hold her newborn in her arms.

Unfortunately, for many Black women, the period during and after childbirth is the time when their lives are most at risk. And it doesn’t matter how physically fit you are or what socioeconomic class you are in.

RELATED: Medical Racism: How Prejudice Keeps People From Getting Help

The day after tennis star Serena Williams gave birth to her daughter Olympia in 2018, Serena was having trouble breathing and realized that she must be having another pulmonary embolism, due to her history of blood clots. Vogue reported, “She walked out of the hospital room so her mother wouldn’t worry and told the nearest nurse, between gasps, that she needed a CT scan with contrast and IV heparin (a blood thinner) right away. The nurse thought her pain medicine might be making her confused.” 

After Serena insisted, the doctor came to perform an ultrasound instead of the CT scan that she asked for. Of course, the ultrasound revealed nothing so they finally gave her the CT scan she wanted which revealed that there were several small blood clots in her lungs. Minutes later, she was on the heparin drip. But that was just the beginning. 

RELATED: Benevolent vs. Hostile Sexism: Intersection of Race and Gender

According to Vogue magazine, “Her fresh C-section wound popped open from the intense coughing spells caused by the pulmonary embolism, and when she returned to surgery, they found that a large hematoma had flooded her abdomen, the result of a medical catch-22 in which the potentially lifesaving blood thinner caused hemorrhaging at the site of her C-section. She returned yet again to the OR to have a filter inserted into a major vein, in order to prevent more clots from dislodging and traveling into her lungs. Serena came home a week later only to find that the night nurse had fallen through, and she spent the first six weeks of motherhood unable to get out of bed.”

If Serena Williams, a wealthy and famous athlete almost died, you can imagine how many other Black women are dying unnecessarily as their voices go unheard.

The Rate of Black Maternal Mortality in the U.S.

Fatmata Williams, a community health education specialist and a registered nurse with twenty-seven years of diverse clinical and administrative experience, shared two personal experiences that made her aware of the disparity in Black maternal and infant deaths: 

“I had a scary experience in 2005 when I had my second child. What was supposed to be an anticipatory, and exciting experience quickly became an unnecessary emergency because the anesthesiologist did not listen to what I was telling him. I am one of the lucky ones because I am still around to tell this story, and my son is now a healthy seventeen-year-old. My sister was not so fortunate when she had her baby three years later, in 2008, and died thirty days postpartum.

My sister had several complaints and presented them to her OB/GYN and the emergency department several times. My sister was sent home each time she presented to the hospital. Her final trip was via E.M.S. She was taken to the hospital in a coma and passed away. She had her baby on April 12th, 2008, and died on May 18th, 2008.”

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, “Black women are three times more likely to die from a pregnancy-related cause than White women.” And, a 2018 investigation by ProPublica found that Black mothers are 12 times more likely to die than white mothers in New York City. 

In 1938, Shoghi Effendi, the Guardian of the Baha’i Faith, wrote:

As to racial prejudice, the corrosion of which, for well-nigh a century, has bitten into the fiber, and attacked the whole social structure of American society, it should be regarded as constituting the most vital and challenging issue

…The ceaseless exertions which this issue of paramount importance calls for, the sacrifices it must impose, the care and vigilance it demands, the moral courage and fortitude it requires, the tact and sympathy it necessitates, invest this problem, which the American believers are still far from having satisfactorily resolved, with an urgency and importance that cannot be overestimated.

Fatmata added, “The U.S. has the highest maternal death rate compared to twelve high-income countries, and the U.S. maternal death crisis is worsening.

In 2020, the U.S. maternal death rate was 23.8 per 100,000 live births, US-Hispanic 18.2, U.S. Non-Hispanic Whites 19.1, and U.S. Non-Hispanic Blacks 55.3 deaths per 100,000 live births. In 2021, the U.S. maternal death rate increased to 32.9 per 100,000 live births, U.S. Hispanic 28.0, U.S. Non-Hispanic White 26.6, and U.S. Non-Hispanic Black 69.9 deaths per 100,000 live births.”

Why Is Black Maternal Mortality So High in the U.S.?

“Our collective experiences (my sister, me, and Black women) should be examined through an equity lens. We should examine the role of systemic, structural, and interpersonal racism in perpetuating this disparity. There must be a reason why Black women, in particular, are dying more than any other race during childbirth. Even after researchers have controlled for age, education level, socioeconomic status, and insurance type, they found that Black women still die more than any other race.”

The CDC stated, “Multiple factors contribute to these disparities, such as variation in quality healthcare, underlying chronic conditions, structural racism, and implicit bias.” 

Shoghi Effendi referred to this implicit bias as a “usually inherent and at times subconscious sense of superiority” and he advised white people “to correct their tendency towards revealing a patronizing attitude towards the members of the other race.”

This implicit bias and patronizing attitude explains why hospitals are not taking their Black patients’ concerns seriously.

Also, the bias against alternative forms of birthing practices and healthcare is believed to have contributed to the U.S.’s high maternal mortality rate.

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“Our birthing system and our maternal health system is like no other country. We’re the only country in the industrialized world that does not have midwives integrated into our system and our rates correlate to that. The other countries that have midwives, their mortality rates are much much lower, and I mentioned that because midwifery is human-centered care.

The philosophy of midwifery is that a pregnant person, a pregnant woman, she knows her body best and she comes first. And in midwifery care, women are seen and heard much more than in the hospital system where you know it’s not a shared decision-making model,” said Paula Eiselt, the co-director of “Aftershock” — a documentary about Black maternal health — in an interview with Democracy Now!, an independent global news network.

Her co-director, Tonya Lewis Lee, also stressed the risks of having Cesarean sections when they are not medically necessary. She explained, “C-sections are major surgery. It’s not just a simple thing. And when you have one C-section, it sort of puts you in a position to have another C-section and other complications. Unfortunately, in the United States, the rate of C-sections has gone up over the last 25 [to] 30 years and we’ve seen the maternal mortality rate go up alongside of it.

…In general, we really need to think about in this country how we’re birthing. Is it really about hurrying up and [getting] that baby out, or is it about allowing a woman’s body to do what it’s supposed to do [so] that she could…bring forth this baby in the time that she’s supposed to be doing it in the safest way possible?”

I’d like to dedicate the following Baha’i prayer for mothers to all the women who have lost their lives in the process of bringing forth new ones into this world:

O Thou forgiving God! Forgive the sins of my loving mother, pardon her shortcomings, cast upon her the glance of Thy gracious providence, and enable her to gain admittance into Thy Kingdom.

O God! From the earliest days of my life she educated and nurtured me, yet I did not recompense her for her toil and labours. Do Thou reward her by granting her eternal life and making her exalted in Thy Kingdom.

Verily, Thou art the Forgiver, the Bestower, and the Kind.

Read my next article to learn how we can help reduce Black maternal mortality.