black girl

When you hear the word “Woman”, what do you think of ? When I hear the word “Woman”, my illustrious, yet short time in this spectacle we know as life, has compelled me to think of the color black. The color “black” in turn equals strength, power, and hard work due to unsaid experiences in my adolescence. When searching for a picture to properly vindicate how I feel about the African- American woman, I was hard struck not to choose this picture that was taken during “The Great Depression” of a black woman working in the field. A sneering grin is uncontrollably etched between my cheeks when I immerse myself in the true essence of what this picture personifies. A story enriched in strength, beauty, and determination was captured in one still shot on what is presumably the norm for a colored woman in those days. The photograph speaks to my soul, vast in the array of adjectives that only exalt my feelings on how I depict most black woman. At first glance, you see a woman with her sleeves rolled up, bent over tilling what appears to be some sort of crop. Is that all that you really see? The absence of emotion on her charred onyx face shows that she has come to grips with the hard labor that she is enduring. Clearly, this is not her first pony ride in the carnival. The perpendicular striations chiseled between the grungy fold of her garment sleeve and the steadfast grip of her hand on the wooden instrument speaks that this has surely become a thing of repetitive nature. The backdrop of the photograph is never ending. It looks as though she may be at work all day but, there is something about her tired yet dexterous posture that makes me feel like the work she is performing is “easy work”. This photograph would mean as much to me as pennies in a bank if it were in color. The absence of color allows for the pictures true meaning to be seen.