By Dr. Ja’Lia Taylor and Rev. Shavon Arline-Bradley
The impact of the recent Nov. 4 election for Black women was profound. For a group that has taken loss after loss, from the Fearless Fund being sued for daring to invest in us to Dr. Claudine Gay being pushed to step down, to our sister Letitia James being targeted for doing her job, to the assault on Congresswoman LaMonica Iver for simply performing her congressional duties, and the relentless attacks on former Vice President Kamala Harris–despite her unmatched qualifications– Black women have been suffering in plain sight.
We have endured an unrelenting assault on every front: our intellect, our leadership, our bodies and our livelihoods. From the dismantling of affirmative action and the attack on student loan relief to the layoffs of more than 300,000 Black women and the recent pause in SNAP benefits, the blows have been heavy and deliberate. Each of these policy choices chips away at our economic mobility, our educational access and our collective progress.
After former Vice President Harris’ loss in the 2024 presidential election, many Black women said simply: we’re resting. We needed to rest. Being America’s conscience takes a toll. Carrying democracy on our backs while being questioned, dismissed and demeaned is exhausting. But rest doesn’t mean sleep. Rest means strategy. Rest means breathing long enough to build again. Rest means protecting our peace while sharpening our purpose.
Nov. 4 proved that while we were resting, we were also rising.
Across this nation, and especially in the South, Black women were organizing, strategizing and mobilizing. Georgia made history by electing its first Black woman to a statewide office. Albany, N.Y., chose Mayor Dorcey Applyrs, and Detroit elected Mayor Mary Sheffield, both Black women stepping boldly into executive leadership. These victories are not isolated wins; they are evidence of a reawakening.
For years, Black women have been the architects of progress, leading movements, mentoring communities and defending democracy, often without recognition or rest. Our votes have shaped every major political turning point in modern American history, yet our leadership is too often undermined or erased. The attacks on our advancement, from corporate boardrooms to college campuses, are coordinated attempts to stifle the very force that has kept this nation morally and politically grounded.
As I wrote in “Empowering Resilience: The Struggles and Successes of Black Women in Academia,” the treatment of Dr. Claudine Gay was not an anomaly but a symptom of a larger disease, a system that doubts our excellence, polices our brilliance and punishes our existence. The same system failed Dr. Antoinette “Bonnie” Candia-Bailey, whose tragic death reminded the nation of the crushing weight that Black women in America often carry alone. Her story, like so many others, reflects the unbearable pressure of performing perfection in spaces that refuse to honor our humanity. Yet even in grief, her legacy fuels our demand for change and care for one another.
Black women have been the moral compass of this country, unbought, unbossed and unbroken. We have endured targeted harassment, career sabotage, economic sabotage and legislative cruelty, and still we show up. And last night, we didn’t just show up. We showed out.
These election results were not accidents. They were the manifestation of deliberate, disciplined power. They were the fruit of quiet planning, prayerful persistence and collective vision. While others underestimated us, we were preparing in classrooms, in city halls, in churches and on social media to reclaim what was ours all along: agency.
The victories of women like Applyrs, Sheffield, and the countless others elected nationwide reaffirm that the vote of Black women has never been on the wrong side of history. We have always seen what was coming, even when the rest of the world refused to believe us. We knew that dismantling diversity and equity programs would not create fairness. We knew that punishing affirmative action would deepen inequality. We knew that silencing women like Kamala Harris would not make America stronger; it would make it smaller.
Now, with the nation watching, Black women are stepping once again into the light, rested, resolute and ready. The message from last night is clear: we may have rested, but we were never asleep.
Rest is not retreat; It is renewal.
Rest is not surrender. It is strategy.
Rest is not weakness. It is wisdom.
America should take note, because when Black women move, the world shifts.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the AFRO.