Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Merely to use the term “Black women’s studies” is an act charged with
political significance. At the very least, the combining of these words to
name a discipline means taking the stance that Black women exist—and
exist positively—a stance that is in direct opposition to most of what
passes for culture and thought on the North American continent.
—Gloria T. Hull and Barbara Smith, 1982
at Wisconsin and a regular collaborator with McKay, would co-edit the new
volume, and that the Press also confirm that Hull, Scott, and Smith were
comfortable with McKay and James undertaking the new project.
Once these stipulations were agreed upon, and with the previous edi-
tors’ blessings, McKay and James began what they called the Brave Project,
using the collaborative, consultative form of transdisciplinary Black femi-
nist scholarship. They brainstormed together, read and re-read Brave, and
consulted widely. They took pains to include individuals with different dis-
ciplinary, methodological, generational, and political perspectives as they
pondered what a new edition of Brave should contain.
They then invited a heterogeneous group to participate in the sympo-
sium Are All the Women Still White?: Globalizing Women’s Studies, held at
the University of Wisconsin-Madison, June 8–10, 2000. Invited participants
included Michael Awkward, Kimberlé Crenshaw, Carole Boyce Davies, Eve-
lynn M. Hammonds, Darlene Clark Hine, Tara Hunter, Deborah K. King,
Jacqueline Jones Royster, Beverly Guy-Sheftall, and Deborah Gray White,
as well as professors Linda Green, Freida High Tesfagioris, and Gloria Lad-
son Billings, librarian Emilie Ngo Nguidjol, and graduate students from the
University of Wisconsin. Participants facilitated discussions around ques-
tions implied by the symposium’s title as well as core issues surrounding
the future of Black Women’s Studies. They were invited to identify critical
research questions for Black Women’s Studies in the twenty-first century
and to assess similarities and differences from questions addressed in the
1982 edition of Brave. The conveners also asked the participants to con-
sider the kinds of materials and courses that would be critical to the ongo-
ing development of Black Women’s Studies. McKay and James expected the
symposium to provide them with suggestions for updating the original vol-
ume and for commissioning a few additional articles. Then, as editors, they
would simply write a forward and introduction and that would be it!
The symposium began comfortably enough. McKay’s welcome included
a short, informal presentation entitled “21st Century Vision: Why We’ve
Come Together.” James shared a letter from Barbara Smith who was unable
to attend but wanted to express her delight with the proposal to revise Brave
in a manner that would allow it to continue to make a difference in the
new century, especially in the lives of Black women. Smith stated, “I know
Akasha, Pat, and I are genuinely grateful to them [McKay and James], and
I also feel that new life will be breathed into the book and into the field of
Black Women’s Studies as a whole because of the unique insights and per-
spectives that each of you bring to this project.”
After the editors’ introductions and the previous editors’ gracious bless-
ings, Beverly Guy-Sheftall disrupted the agenda when she stated that while
edition. After the symposium, they realized that they were entrusted with
a much more profound task than they had imagined. Not only would they
need to entirely reconceptualize the new Brave, but their vision would have
to be expansive enough to address the numerous accomplishments that had
occurred in the field of Black Women’s Studies and the evolution of Black
feminisms since 1982. Their colleagues had thoroughly impressed upon
them the magnitude of their task. The symposium had underscored the
importance of a new Brave project and their need to figure out how to get
it right. While they were certainly energized by the symposium, they were
also in a state of shock!
After countless emails, letters, and conversations with symposium par-
ticipants and with others who had not attended,10 they realized that getting
it right would require a thorough review of the literature that had appeared
since the publication of Brave. It meant exploring new disciplinary, interdis-
ciplinary, and transdisciplinary discourses that incorporated a Black femi-
nist perspective and/or analyzed critical issues of concern to Black women.
It also meant acknowledging and exploring the diasporic and cross-cultural
dimensions of Black women’s experiences no matter where they lived in the
world.
By 2004 the editors had collected more than two hundred articles that
were important enough to merit consideration for inclusion in the new
anthology. Many were “nominated” by symposium participants, while oth-
ers were already highly anthologized and had become canonical texts. Some
original essays were submitted by authors who had heard of the project and
wished to be included. Many of them were groundbreaking texts from vari-
ous disciplines that covered a broad range of topics and issues. Others were
smart, provocative, informative essays that built upon earlier works. As the
editors immersed themselves in this extraordinary body of scholarship it
became exceedingly clear that Still Brave would be to Brave as daughters
often are to their mothers. The two volumes would share a common ances-
try and keep the family resemblance, but they would be distinctly different
and the product of different eras.
But Some of Us Are Brave ultimately had drawn together the thinking
and scholarship of a relatively small group of intrepid pioneers engaged in
creating a new field of study. In the years since its publication, the field of
Black Women’s Studies has moved beyond mainly literature and history11
to encompass additional disciplines, particularly sociology, anthropology,
political science, economics, religion, the arts, law, and the natural sci-
ences. Since the 1980s, Black Women’s Studies has been indelibly stamped
by interdisciplinary, cross-disciplinary, and multi-disciplinary research and
The roots of “anthology” are “anthos,” which means “flower,” and “logia,”
which is a “collection” or “garland.” A flower collection or garland can be
unique, often is beautiful, but always is more than the sum of its parts. An
anthology is, actually, an artifice and artifact of its editors. When Frances
Smith Foster and Beverly Guy-Sheftall joined the project they knew Still
Brave could not be a sequel to the original anthology. But what would it
be? Which flowers in what order would both commemorate and inspire?
After numerous discussions, intense debates, but no actual arguments, the
three editors agreed that Still Brave would be an anthology that provides a
retrospective on the state of Black Women’s Studies since the publication of
Brave. We wanted a collection that was compelling and accessible to schol-
ars, intellectuals, students, and anyone with curiosity and questions about
Black Women’s Studies. We wanted to build a bridge between the past and
the future. We wanted the book to be expansive, leading readers toward
particular perspectives while simultaneously suggesting, even requiring,
counter-anthologies with different arrangements, different selections. And
we wanted to do this in a way that provided wisdom beyond the published
words which we, like Smith, Hull, and Scott, believe is crucial for trans-
forming lives. A huge challenge was organizational structure. We finally
decided to signify via a representative anecdote and references to music.
We start with a story. Once upon a time, before Brave, in 1975 to be
more precise, Joan Little (pronounced Joanne), a twenty-year-old Black
woman, was raped by a prison guard. In and of itself that was not unusual,
but this time the plot changed a bit. Joan Little avenged herself by stabbing
her assailant with the ice pick he had used to subdue her. She was charged
with first degree murder. Histories, oral and scholarly, tell us that, too, was
not unusual. However, Joan Little was the first Black woman to be acquitted
of the charge of murdering a white man. The lesson is, however, not in the
jury’s verdict. It is in how it happened. Joan Little’s case was won because
many people, mostly women, were incensed enough to organize and to pub-
licize her plight, despite the fact that she was not, as some folk said, the best
kind of victim around which to build a movement. Little was no Rosa Parks
or even an Angela Y. Davis. She was not an educated, middle-class activist
whose actions were anticipated if not precipitated by organized groups. Lit-
tle was the kind of woman whom middle-class folk tried to ignore or uplift
without getting close enough to be stained by the encounter. She had been
convicted of breaking and entering, receiving stolen property, and larceny,
and was serving time in prison.
According to Minnie Bruce Pratt, “The historic campaign that saved
Little from execution or life in prison was the first successful U.S. struggle
to assert the right of African-American women to self-defense against white
rapists.”13 The press gave it a lot of play and many activists wrote about the
case. But, if any of us recall it, we do so no doubt because we have heard,
or heard about, the ballad composed and performed by Sweet Honey in
the Rock. One of the most salient aspects of the lyrics to “Joan Little” is the
way they resonate with a conflict experienced by many more “respectable”
women (especially those of us who are Black): “My mama always told me . . .
leave that no good woman alone . . . you gonna be judged by the company
you keep.” And it marks a moment when “nice girls” publicly agreed with
“not nice girls” that Joan Little was their sister, their mother, themselves.
We tell this story not only because it continues to be significant for us
today as we consider and evaluate with whom and for what we stand, but also
because it bears witness to the essential role of music, which is sound and
sense, song and poetry, in our lives and—quiet as it’s kept—in the academy.
This story points to the direction we took in choosing essays for Still
Brave. We believe that each selection is a classic, a benchmark, a turning
point, or a moment of startling clarity in Black Women’s Studies. We doubt
that any of these articles were written with the intent of bringing its author
fame, and given that academic writing is rarely financially lucrative, they
were not written to gain fortune. But we believe that, as is the case with
Joan Little, the individual action had collective impact. We have arranged
these individually published pieces, written from within and across various
disciplines, into communities of thought and moment. For the most part
we have ordered them chronologically within sections, and named each
section, each neighborhood, each family of thought, with a line from a song
we believe represents, reaffirms, and reconstructs the pieces into a whole. In
so doing, we acknowledge and honor the presence and prescience of music
in Black Women’s Studies and other cultural contexts as well as in the his-
tory of African peoples.
By placing these essays in company with others, we also change them.
Readers who begin with the first one and read sequentially interpret each in
context with the others. Reading them chronologically allows a sense of evo-
lution, but it should not suggest a deliberate progression or direct call and
response. One of the unfortunate truths of the academy is that too often, too
many of us work in silos without adequate communication or collaboration
with others in different parts of the university, in different colleges and uni-
versities, and—especially—with those who are not in the academy. Another
tendency that we lament, and one reason why this collection exists, is the
pervasive tendency to ignore or minimize what preceded us and to assume
that the latest is the greatest! We are not encouraging evaluation on the basis
of the most recent interpretations. We are encouraging interpretation that
considers the time and circumstances of each essay or proclamation.
The title of each section in this collection refers to a song also relevant
to time and circumstance in African America. In this way, we acknowl-
edge that Black Women’s Studies did not develop in an intellectual vac-
uum but was and is affected by our oral traditions and shared situations.
For example, the first section, “The Way We Were,” refers less to Barbra
Streisand’s rendition than it does to Gladys Knight and the Pips’ version
of those lyrics. African Americans undoubtedly knew both versions, but
the way Gladys Knight and the Pips sing the rhythms and harmonies as
well as the words with which they introduce their recording make it pure
Sankofa. In other words, whereas Streisand sings nostalgia, their interpreta-
tion of “The Way We Were” envisions our future by reviewing our past. This
song is the soundtrack as we begin Still Brave with The Combahee River
Collective statement that was included in But Some of Us Are Brave. At
least two of the editors of Brave, Barbara Smith and Gloria Hull, partici-
pated in the collective, a group that split off from the National Black Femi-
nist Organization partly to provide a more welcoming community for Black
lesbians. The collective is generally acknowledged as formulating the term
“identity politics.” Arranged in chronological order are other formative
pieces, many of which are from defining collections of their era. Years and
moments not included mark the inevitable incompleteness of recollection.
Sweet Honey in the Rock sings that every woman who has ever loved
a woman ought to stand up and call her name and we feel the inclusiv-
ity and particularity of their music creates a space for multiple inter-
pretations and singular celebration. “I Call My Name” riffs on the lyrics
to Sweet Honey in the Rock’s “Every Woman.” Continuing the theme of
“identity politics,” but spotlighting improvisation and adaptation, this
section offers a panorama of questions and concerns addressed time and
again. It insists upon the political and personal implications of nam-
ing and defining one’s self for oneself, the importance of language itself,
especially as it concerns who and what defines Black Women’s Studies.
Jacquelyn Grant’s 1986 essay, “Womanist Theology,” in content and con-
text, leads into a more intense consideration of the power of naming, but
also returns us to The Combahee River Collective. Monica A. Coleman’s
“Must I Be Womanist?,” published twenty years later, shows the changing
same. Patricia Hill Collins also contributes to these discourses around
identity by providing a gendered critique of the controversial Afrocentrism
perspective.
The section “Body and Soul” stresses the inseparability of identities—
gender, race, class, religion, and sexuality. If a reader is inclined to think
that sexuality, violence, health, and other material aspects of life are fairly
recent concerns, she need only recall Joan Little or The Combahee River
tion of All the Women Are White, All the Blacks Are Men, But Some of Us Are
Brave. We know that our choices are not free from biases.
We were guided by the following principles in our editorial process. We
would include foundational, influential essays from a range of disciplines
by both established and young scholars. Although many scholars included
here have produced important bodies of work in Black Women’s Studies, we
decided to choose only one essay from any individual. This was a difficult
decision and resulted, for example, in our not including Angela Y. Davis’s
important essay on Black women and slavery because we wanted to include
her pioneering work on prisons; or Evelynn M. Hammonds’ powerful essays
on Black female sexuality because we wanted to include her groundbreak-
ing work on race, gender, and HIV/AIDS. Another guideline was to include
essays that were more or less free of disciplinary jargon and employed more
accessible language so that the collection would be appropriate for the gen-
eral reader, including undergraduates. We were also drawn to articles that
employed interdisciplinary approaches, were review essays of feminist dis-
course surrounding an important topic, or engaged important debates such
as the usefulness of “feminism” vs. “womanism.” We chose not to include
excerpts from longer works or essays that have been heavily anthologized
and are more accessible.15
Probably the most difficult and controversial decision we made was
to focus, as noted above, on Black Women’s Studies within and about the
United States. At a time when U.S.-centric and nationalist perspectives are
being challenged, our decision seems almost unthinkable. However, it was
simply impossible to do justice to the pioneering and voluminous schol-
arship about Black women in Africa and the African Diaspora since the
publication of Brave. This is why we felt compelled to narrow our focus. We
anticipate that a second volume will engage the transnational.
Like its “foremother,” then, Still Brave is limited. It does not include
reference materials such as course syllabi because so many can now be
found on the web. Not all of the disciplines or areas of study that have been
impacted by Black Women’s Studies are represented here, such as philoso-
phy, film studies, and popular culture. We have not included Black femi-
nist scholarship on hip hop culture, for example the exciting work of Tricia
Rose and Gwendolyn Pough.16 Excerpts of lengthy essays have not been
included because of our decision to publish only complete works. The col-
lection, while expansive, is not a comprehensive retrospective on the evo-
lution of the field. Like all anthologies, it does not include many essays
that belong here. We especially regret having excluded essays that focus
on a particular individual or organization, or highly specialized essays
Notes
1. Florence Howe, “Feminist Scholarship, the Extent of the Revolution,” Change 14
(April 1982): 6.
2. Johnnella E. Butler and John C. Walters, eds. Transforming the Curriculum: Ethnic
Studies and Women’s Studies (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991), xix.
3. Butler, “Difficult Dialogues,” Women’s Review of Books 6 (February 1989): 16.
4. bell hooks, “Feminism and Black Women’s Studies,” SAGE: A Scholarly Journal on
Black Women 6 (Summer 1989): 54.
5. Accounts of stages of development in U.S. women’s history, even the new social
history, rarely took into account Black women’s history, which includes a number of
important texts that impacted the evolution of Black Women’s Studies. See especially
Sharon Harley and Rosalyn Terborg-Penn, eds., The Afro-American Woman: Struggles
and Images (Port Washington, N.Y.: Kennikat Press, 1978); Paula Giddings, When and
Where I Enter: The Impact of Black Women on Race and Sex in America (New York:
Morrow, 1984); Angela Y. Davis, Women, Race, and Class (New York: Vintage, 1981);
Deborah Gray White, Ar’n’t I a Woman? Female Slaves in the Plantation South (New
York: Norton, 1985); and the invaluable 16-volume series, Black Women in U.S. History,
edited by Darlene Clark Hine, et al. (Brooklyn, NY: Carlson, 1990).
6. See Barbara Smith’s “Toward a Black Feminist Criticism,” Conditions: Two (1977),
27, the first theoretical essay on Black feminist criticism. Three years later, Deborah
McDowell’s “New Directions for Black Feminist Criticism,” Black American Literature
Forum 14 (October 1980): 153, called for a clearer definition of “the black feminist aes-
thetic,” and delineated the major tasks that would confront the Black feminist critic over
the next decade. Earlier, the pioneering work of Mary Helen Washington called atten-
tion to the distinctive work of Black women writers. See her “Black Women Image Mak-
ers,” Black World (August 1974), and her two pioneering anthologies, Black-Eyed Susans:
Classic Stories by and about Black Women (Garden City, NY: Anchor, 1975) and Mid-
night Birds: Stories by Contemporary Black Women Writers (Garden City, NY: Anchor,
1980). Sturdy Black Bridges: Visions of Black Women in Literature, edited by Roseann P.
Bell, Bettye J. Parker, and Beverly Guy-Sheftall (New York, NY: Doubleday, 1980), was
the first anthology of Black women’s literature and it had a diasporic dimension as well.
Barbara Christian’s Black Women Novelists: The Development of a Tradition, 1892–1976
(Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1980) was the first full-length study of the novels
of Black women. For an excellent overview of Black feminist criticism, see Cheryl Wall,
ed., Changing Our Own Words: Essays on Theory, Criticism, and Writing by Black Women
(New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1989). The publication of Alice Walker’s
“In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens: The Creativity of Black Women in the South,” in
Ms. (May 1974), posits a theory of Black female creativity; Walker probably designed the
first course on Black women writers which she taught in 1977 at Wellesley College.
7. See Farah Griffin’s review essay in this volume, “That the Mothers May Soar and
the Daughters May Know Their Names . . .” for a comprehensive assessment of Black
feminist criticism.
8. Hull, Scott, and Smith, All the Women Are White, All the Blacks Are Men, But Some
of Us Are Brave (New York, NY: Feminist Press, 1982), p. xx–xxi. See also Beverly Guy-
Sheftall and Patricia Bell Scott, “Black Women’s Studies: A View from the Margin,” in
Educating the Majority: Women Challenge Tradition in Higher Education, Pearson, Shav-
lik, and Touchton, eds. (New York/London: American Council on Education/Collier
Macmillan, 1989); a special issue of SAGE: A Scholarly Journal on Black Women focusing
on Black Women’s Studies, vol. 6, no. 1 (Summer 1989); and the three volume Afri-
cana Women’s Studies Series (Atlanta, GA: Africana Women’s Center, Atlanta University,
1984), which includes course syllabi and bibliographies.
9. These would include the special issue of Conditions: Five, the Black Women’s Issue,
vol. 2, no. 2, 1979, edited by Lorraine Bethel and Barbara Smith.
10. At one point Elizabeth Higginbotham, an original contributor to But Some of Us
Are Brave, even came to Madison and spent a day with McKay and James to discuss the
Brave Project and offer suggestions on how to proceed and what to consider for inclu-
sion, especially from a social scientist’s perspective.
11. When it was published, the sixteen volume series, Black Women in United States
History (Brooklyn, NY: Carlson Publishing Company, 1990), edited by Darlene Clark
Hine, Elsa Barkley Brown, Tiffany R.L. Patterson, and Lillian S. Williams, was the most
comprehensive collection of scholarship on Black women’s history in the U.S. It included
seminal essays, such as Angela Y. Davis’s pioneering essay, “Reflections on the Black
Woman’s Role in the Community of Slaves,” Black Scholar 3 (December 1971): 4–15,
which rewrote the history of slave resistance, as well as journal articles, unpublished
dissertations, and conference proceedings.
12. For commentaries on McKay’s life and work see “Nellie McKay Tribute” a special
issue of African American Review vol. 40, no. 1, Spring 2006.
13. “A look back at the Joann Little Case,” March 9, 2006: www.workers.org/s006/us/
joann-little-0316
14. While But Some of Us Are Brave focused on the U.S., the field of Black Wom-
en’s Studies was always global. Filomina Chioma Steady, ed., The Black Woman Cross-
Culturally (Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman, 1981), was particularly significant because
of its diasporic emphasis and its cross-cultural approach to the experiences of women of
African descent. See also the groundbreaking Women in Africa and the African Diaspora,
edited by Rosalyn Terborg-Penn, Sharon Harley, and Andrea Benton Rushing (Wash-
ington, DC: Howard University Press, 1987), which provides a theoretical framework
for dealing with women of African descent, and includes a pioneering essay by Steady
on African feminism. The global reach of Black Women’s Studies is also underscored by
Andree Nicola McLaughlin’s establishing at Medgar Evers College in 1987 the pioneer-
ing International Cross-Cultural Black Women’s Studies Institute: A Global Network.
The network created a series of world conferences that began in the summer of 1987 in
London; subsequent gatherings took place in New York, Zimbabwe, Auckland, Aotearoa
(New Zealand), Germany, Venezuela, Hawaii, South Africa, Russia, Costa Rica, Trinidad
and Tobago, Japan, and Panama. The Institute fosters international cooperation among
women from economically developing nations, promotes peace, advocates for human
rights, and provides opportunities for women of diverse cultures to exchange informa-
tion, share experiences, identify resources, and build linkages.
It is also instructive to consider the gendered aspects of the early history of Black
Studies, which has been largely invisible to scholars. This “herstory” of the development
of the field concerns itself with a little known organization, the International Council
of Women of the Darker Races, which emerged as a result of the racial uplift impulses
and international educational projects of the Black women’s club movement in the U.S.
Organized by several prominent club women in 1924, most notably Margaret Mur-
ray Washington, founder of the Tuskegee Women’s Club in Alabama and the Coun-
cil’s president, its purpose was to study the history of peoples of color throughout the
world, particularly in West Africa, India, Haiti, and Cuba, and to disseminate knowledge
about them for the purpose of engendering racial pride. Study groups, which were called
Committees of Seven, were also formed to infuse public school curricula with material
on Blacks and other people of color. Field trips were organized to gain firsthand experi-
ence of other cultures. The Council also studied the situation of women and children
of color transnationally. Margaret Murray Washington taught a course at Tuskegee on
the condition and status of women throughout the world that clearly illustrated Black
women’s awareness of the importance of gender long before there was a women’s studies
movement within the mainstream academy.
15. These would include Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham, “African-American Women’s
History and the Metalanguage of Race,” Signs 17 (Winter): 251–74; Hortense Spillers’
landmark essay, “Mamma’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe: An American Grammar Book,” Diacrit-
ics 17 (1987): 64–81; Deborah K. King, “Multiple Jeopardy, Multiple Consciousness: The
Context of a Black Feminist Ideology,” Signs 14 (1): 42–72; Kimberlé Crenshaw, “Map-
ping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence Against Women of
Color,” Stanford Law Review 43 (July 1991): 1–50.
16. See Tricia Rose, Black Noise: Rap Music and Black Culture in Contemporary Amer-
ica (Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 1994) and The Hip Hop Wars: What
We Talk About When We Talk About Hip Hop—And Why It Matters (New York: Basic-
Civitas Books, 2008); Gwendolyn D. Pough, Check It While I Wreck It: Black Woman-
hood, Hip Hop Culture, and the Public Sphere (Northeastern University Press, 2004);
Gwendolyn Pough, Elaine Richardson, Aisha Durham, Rachel Raimist, eds., Home Girls
Make Some Noise: Hip Hop Feminist Anthology (Mira Loma, CA: Parker Publishing,
2007); T. Denean Sharpley-Whiting, Pimps Up, Ho’s Down: Hip Hop’s Hold on Young
Black Women (New York: New York University Press, 2008); Joan Morgan, When Chick-
enheads Come Home to Roost: A Hip-Hop Feminist Breaks It Down (New York: Simon
and Schuster, 2000).
17. Under the rubric of Black feminist science studies, there is a growing body of
scholarship on science, medicine, and technology and reproductive rights by Black
women academics. The work of Evelynn M. Hammonds, Deborah Grayson, Vanessa
Gamble, Diann Jordan, Stephanie Athey, and others is particularly useful. See several
anthologies that include Black women: Gender and Scientific Authority, edited by Bar-
bara Laslett, Sally G. Kohlstedt, Helen Longino, and Evelynn M. Hammonds (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1996); Women, Science and Technology: A Reader in Femi-
nist Science and Technology, eds., Mary Wyer, Mary Berbercheck, et al (New York: Rout-
ledge, 2001); Science, Medicine and Technology in the 20th Century: What Difference Has
Feminism Made?, eds., Angela Creager, Elizabeth Lunbeck and Londa Schiebinger (Chi-
cago: University of Chicago Press, 2006); Undivided Rights: Women of Color Organize for
Reproductive Justice, eds. Jael Silliman, Marlene Gerber Fried, Loretta Ross, and Elena
R. Gutierrez (Cambridge, MA: South End Press, 2004); and Jennifer Nelson’s Women
of Color and the Reproductive Rights Movement (New York: New York University Press,
2003). Evelynn M. Hammonds’ co-authored book (with Rebecca Herzig and Abigail
Bass), The MIT Reader on Race and Gender in Science (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2009)
and her The Logic of Difference: A History of Race in Science and Medicine in the United
States, 1850–1990 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2009) are founda-
tional texts in Black feminist science studies. Recent work on the Black female body
and Black female sexualities are also important. See Evelynn M. Hammonds, “Toward
a Genealogy of Black Female Sexuality: The Problematic of Difference,” in M. Jacqui
Alexander and Chandra Talpade Mohanty, eds., Feminist Genealogies, Colonial Legacies,
Democratic Futures (New York: Routledge, 1997) and “Black (W)holes and the Geom-
etry of Black Female Sexuality,” differences: A Journal of Feminist Cultural Studies, vol. 6,
nos. 2 & 3, 1994: 127–45; Dorothy Roberts, Killing the Black Body: Race, Reproduction
and the Meaning of Liberty (New York: Pantheon, 1997); Kimberly Wallace Sanders, ed.,
Skin Deep, Spirit Strong: The Black Female Body in American Culture (Ann Arbor: Uni-
versity of Michigan Press, 2002); Tricia Rose, Longing to Tell: Black Women Talk About
Sexuality and Intimacy (New York: Picador, 2004).