with Tasha Mays

Tamara Winfrey-Harris is the bestselling author of The Sisters Are Alright: Changing the Broken Narrative of Black Women in America. In this second book, Dear Black Girl: Letters from Your Sisters on Stepping into Your Power, she compiles letters written to her with the purpose of empowering Black girls in a society that sees them as less than. She speaks directly to Black girls, and women, proving to us that anything is possible and we are ‘alright’.

I finished your book last night and I was like, man, this is the chicken soup for the teenage soul I needed growing up. Why did you create this collection?

It was the ways that I heard women talking about girls while I was touring with my first book. I found that, especially in groups, we reject the stereotypes for ourselves but when talking about younger women and girls, that same language starts creeping in. That struck and stayed with me. I then started interviewing teenage girls, asking whether they feel unsupported by their elders. The answer was, yes, they do sometimes feel unsupported because of the ways in which we repeat the things society thinks of them. I want Black girls to feel loved and supported, no matter who they are, no matter what they look like, no matter what has happened to them, no matter what mistakes they’ve made.

My favourite letter starts on pg. 46 with “Daughtering ain’t easy.” Which letter resonates with you the most?

It’s the one that starts on pg. 97 with “Good evening darling”. It resonates the most not because it’s my experience but because it’s the first one I received. It’s from a woman named Nicole talking about growing up with two parents who were infected with HIV. I love the way she talks to Black girls with such love: “know that you are not alone. You are not invisible. I see you. You are capable. You are powerful. You are worthy. You are part of a larger community and with us, you are home.”

That’s the one that made me cry. My son was like, mom?!

At least you were at home! I was at work when it dropped into my email and I couldn’t resist checking it. I was sobbing at my desk.

I talk a lot about ‘alrightness’ and how sometimes it takes a while for Black women to understand that we are alright. We are okay just as we are.

If you could choose another book as a companion to this one, which would it be?

I would have to be my first book The Sisters Are Alright because it dissects the core stereotypes around how Black girls and women are seen. It looks at how we got so bound up in these biases that are reinforced by society and impact how we see ourselves, how we see each other. 

I love how Dear Black Girl is a book for all of us. Nothing is assumed, not even those things that are a big part of the Black community like religion. As someone who grew up in the suburbs, this is the first time I’ve read a book directed at Black girls that made me feel seen.

I’m also a suburbs girl, and so are lot of the girls interviewed in this book. It’s also true that some of us are more vulnerable than others: girls living in poverty, dark-skinned girls, girls who have extra burdens, but we are all experiencing sexism and racism. I explicitly asked the women to not to make assumptions about class, sexuality, or religion as I wanted Black girls to see themselves in all the ways they are in the world. I know there’s a tendency to assume all Black girls are Christian. Some of us are Muslim. Some of us are Jehovah’s Witnesses. Some of us are not religious at all. Black girls that don’t fit into the box we expect Black girls to fit into are very often left out of the discussion. There are many letters that couldn’t make it into the book. When I hear women start talking about girls, talking about themselves as girls, I realise that this project could become a chicken soup for Black girls that keeps going on and on. What if Black girls could write to their mothers? What if mothers could write to Black girls?

What would you like for people to take away from Dear Black Girl?

I talk a lot about ‘alrightness’ and how sometimes it takes a while for Black women to understand that we are alright, meaning we are inherently alright even if we have problems or flaws. We are okay just as we are. It took me until my 30s, 40s, 50s, and beyond to understand that I was alright. I thought, what if we could give girls and young women alrightness right now? What if we could start feeling some of that at 15 instead of 55? I hope Black girls leave the book feeling that alrightness. 

TAMARA WINFREY-HARRIS is the author of the award-winning books The Sisters Are Alright: Changing the Broken Narrative of Black Women in America and Dear Black Girl: Letters from Your Sisters on Stepping into Your Power. She wants to empower Black girls and women by letting them know that they are not on this journey alone. Find her on Twitter @whattamisaid.

TASHA MAYS is a mother, blogger, and some-time booktuber. In her free time, she likes to read and craft. If you don’t see her with a book or at a table crafting, she’s probably sleeping or eating. Find her on Twitter @amaysnreads.

Dear Black Girl: Letters From Your Sisters on Stepping Into Your Power by Tamara Winfrey Harris
Published by Berrett-Koehler on 9 March 2021
Genres: Non-fiction, Womanism
Pages: 192

"Dear #DopeBlackGirl,

You don't know me, but I know you. I know you because I am you! We are magic, light, and stars in the universe." So begins a letter that Tamara Winfrey-Harris received as part of her Letters to Black Girls project, where she asked Black women to write honest, open, and inspiring letters of support to young black girls aged thirteen to twenty-one. Her call went viral, resulting in a hundred letters from Black women around the globe. In Dear Black Girl, Winfrey-Harris organizes a selection of these letters for young Black girls, modeling how they can nurture their future generations as Black women. Each chapter ends with a prompt encouraging girls to write a letter to themselves, teaching the art of self-love and self-nurturing. Winfrey-Harris' The Sisters Are Alright explores how Black women must often fight and stumble their way into alrightness after adulthood. Dear Black Girl continues this work by delivering personal messages of alrightness for Black women-to-be—and for the girl who still lives inside every black woman, who still needs reminding sometimes that she is alright.