You’re free to be who you want to be, unless you are a black woman.

Then you are defined by a number of stereotypes that tell you who you are.

Some of these stereotypes have been around since slavery; others are a recent construct of modern-day culture. But all are active and alive today, dictating how black women are viewed by us and others.

Matriarch, sapphire and welfare queen are stereotypes with vast and far-reaching negative effects: from dismantling the foundations of the black family to inhibiting the black woman from attaining suitable employment.

The Matriarch

At first blush, the matriarch stereotype has been good to our culture. She is the strong black woman who is honoured, adored and even deified. A closer look, however, reveals that her existence has undermined and continues to undermine the strength of the black family.

The black matriarch was born out of slavery. She did not exist in pre-colonial Africa. Her birth was necessitated by the circumstances of slavery which made the enslaved black woman work alongside the enslaved black man.

In addition, slavery separated families, leaving children in the care of only their mothers. This placed the black women in the unfamiliar role as the sole head of the family, essentially normalizing the concept of the single parent within our culture.

The ability of the black woman to perform long, hard work, live independent of a man and maintain a family was in stark contrast to prevailing notions of womanhood: fragile, dependant, feminine and white. The black woman was thought to be physically, mentally and emotionally stronger than her white counterparts.

This notion of physical, mental and emotional strength continues today.

Perhaps most importantly, the concept of the black matriarch does not fit into any family structure: modern or traditional. Modern families are built on the foundation of equals, while in traditional families, the man is the designated head.

The black matriarch cannot exist in either structure. She is built to be alone.

The black family cannot return to its rightful place of prominence in our community with her, the black matriarch, in existence.

The Sapphire

Unlike the matriarch, the sapphire is not independent; she needs the presence of a man.

Marilyn Yarbrough and Crystal Bennett in Mammy, Sapphire, Jezebel and Their Sister, describes the sapphire as, “The wisecracking, balls-crushing, emasculating womanâe¦usually shown with her hands on her hips and her head thrown back as she lets everyone know she is in charge.”

You will recognize the sapphire; you have seen her many times before, most recently as the character Monique from The Parkers and Rochell, the mother on the new hit series Everybody Hates Chris.

In her professional life, the sapphire is achievement-oriented, intelligent, ambitious and hard working. She is the well-educated, upwardly mobile black woman who is most likely to occupy a middle management or executive position.

The impacts of the sapphire stereotype are many.

Cheryl Bowers in the report, Group Process: The Impact of Black Female Leadership explains that the sapphire stereotype, “Inhibits [black] women from expressing a range of responses and behaviours that are not only appropriate but are âe¦ accessible to other groups in leadership roles.”

The inability to freely express a full range of emotions leaves the black woman feeling misunderstood, anxious and at odds with her peers. As a result Bowers notes, black women are more “susceptible to high blood pressure, overeating, depression, and attempted suicides.”

Statistics Canada confirms this tendency. A 2003 study revealed that black women suffer from depression at a rate 50 per cent higher than the rest of the Canadian female population, and blacks generally are more likely to be prescribed medication for mental health problems.

On all levels, the existence of sapphire stereotype is costly.

The Welfare Queen

Unlike the matriarch or the sapphire, the welfare queen is not admired nor does she provoke sympathy.

Yvonne Newsome, in a recent Journal of African American Studies report, explains that the welfare queen is a sexually irresponsible, lazy, poor, uneducated black woman who “becomes pregnant as a teenager and has baby after baby.” Further, because there is no man in the house, she is unable to “properly teach, supervise and control her delinquency-prone children who grow to become teenaged mothers, gang bangers and similar menaces to society.”

The Welfare Queen is the woman who is currently being blamed for raising the generation of young black men responsible for the gun violence gripping the streets of Toronto, Vancouver, Winnipeg and Calgary.

The stereotype of the welfare queen is so pervasive, we acknowledge it as true. Her existence is divisive and destructive, but purposeful.

The construct of the welfare queen allows society to blame her for her plight, while deflecting focus away from the real causes of poverty: inequality.

Constructing a society that provides opportunities equally for everyone is not necessary when you can sell the idea that those who do not prosper, don’t, because they are simply too lazy, inept, uneducated and undeserving.

Conclusion

We may live within a multi-cultural society, but there is very little integration. Few outside the black communities have an accurate or true portrait of who we are as individuals or as a collective.

Stereotypes then, become increasingly important in constructing a generalized view of who we are.

To combat negative stereotypes Dr. Angela Neal-Barnett, an award-winning psychologist and a recognized expert on anxiety disorders among African Americans, advocates for institutional diversity training. She notes that such “face-to-face interactions between people of all different ethnic backgroundsâe¦help break down misconceptions.”

Tricia Hylton

Tricia Hylton is a freelance writer living in Toronto, Ontario. Through her writing, Tricia hopes to provide insights to create conversation and understanding on the impact of Canada’s social, economic...