|
Column
Strong, faith-filled black women enrich U.S. Catholic
church
By DIANA L. HAYES
When thinking of the history of
African-Americans in the United States, all too often the voices of women and
the significant contributions they have made to the black community and the
United States as a whole is overlooked. Yet where would we be without them?
An old saying states: “If it wasn’t for the women,”
then this, that or the other thing would never have been accomplished. Where
would the Christian churches be without women who make up over 75 percent of
their numbers? Where would, certainly, the black family be without the women,
mothers, aunts, grandmothers and “play” mothers? They not only gave
birth to the future but then worked to ensure that that future would come into
being. Somehow, they knew what we ourselves often did not know that we needed,
and laid the path for us to journey forward.
Black women have been called the “bearers of culture”
because they are the ones who retained and passed on what has to be remembered
and learned by the next generation: the names of the ancestors, the stories of
family and community and “how we got over,” the songs that helped
teach us our faith in a “wonder-working God,” the prayers and how to
pray them, and so much more.
In the black Catholic community, women have been a source of
strength and healing, encouraging their sons and daughters in their callings,
and trying to make the way just a bit easier than it may have been for them.
They forged paths for all of us to follow even when they were not always sure
where those paths would lead other than they would lead to God in the end.
There are so many names to call forth, it would be impossible to
do them all justice, but I will call forth a few of the ancestors, our black
saints.
We know little of the lives of Catholic slaves, but a few names
have emerged. One such is Coincoin or Marie Therese. She, like so many others,
was a faith-filled woman who, despite the hardships and degradations of
slavery, was able to raise their children and build thriving black communities.
Coincoin was the name given her by her African-born parents. She was born in
slavery in Louisiana, in the Cane River country. Rented out as a young girl,
she became the house servant of a French merchant by whom she eventually had 10
children. Slave women had little choice over either becoming mothers or who the
fathers of their children would be. Yet they loved their children fiercely.
At the age of 44, Marie Therese was freed by her owner, along with
her youngest child, and given land and a small annuity, something unusual in
those times. She proceeded to expand her holdings until she had a thriving
plantation. With the monies she earned, she then proceeded to travel throughout
the area, seeking out and purchasing not only all of her children except for
one daughter, but all of her grandchildren as well and brought them to live
with her. She established the first black Catholic parish -- named after her
son and the doctor of the church, St. Augustine -- to have a mission to whites
in the United States.
Coincoin was obviously a woman of great courage and perseverance,
but she was not alone. Other strong, faith-filled women followed. Many of us
are familiar with the stories behind the founding of the first black Catholic
female religious orders, in 1829 and 1851. They were founded by far-seeing,
energetic women who refused to accept the limitations and stereotypes placed on
them by U.S. society.
Where many of their fellow Catholics believed it impossible for a
black woman to live a moral and chaste life, Mother Elizabeth Lange of the
Oblates of Providence and Mother Henriette DeLille of the Sisters of the Holy
Family knew there were many devout black Catholic women seeking lives of prayer
and obedience to God. Their orders were some of the first to provide viable
educational opportunities for black Americans, slave and free, Protestant and
Catholic, young and old. Their sisters today continue to teach, preach and pray
wherever they are stationed, bringing hope and opportunity to many.
Others, lay women married and single, sought other avenues in
which to live and work while still refusing to hide their deep and abiding
faith in a God who was capable of “making a way out of no way” for
all who believed. Black women supported their husbands, brothers and sons in
founding the Knights of St. Peter Claver and the Knights of St. John when the
Knights of Columbus refused them. Today, the Ladies Auxiliaries of these
organizations are training grounds for young black women in leadership both in
the church and the larger society.
Black women today are teachers, preachers, mothers, businesswomen,
diocesan officers, aunts, doctors, lawyers and so much more. In keeping with
those who came before them, they recognize that no task is too difficult if it
means a child will be properly fed, clothed and educated.
They are coming together following meetings of the National Black
Catholic Congresses and the first National Gathering of Black Catholic Women.
They are proclaiming their pride in both their faith and in their race, while
acknowledging that much must still be done to overcome the racism, sexism and
classism still prevalent in both church and society. They acknowledge those who
came before and laid the path for them.They call upon their strength to sustain
them as they struggle against the discrimination and prejudice still too often
existent in today’s world. The names are many: Anne Marie Becroft,
Mathilda Beasley, Dr. Lena Edwards, Ella Terry, Emma Lewis, Constance Daniels,
Sr. Delores Harrel, Sr. Thea Bowman, Sr. Maxine Townes, and so many others
whose names must be kept alive in our hearts and souls.
Black Catholic women are still active in the Lord’s vineyard,
preparing the soil, planting the seeds and participating in the harvest. Many
are now achieving their doctorates while others have no letters after their
names. No matter, for they all share in the struggle equally. For the way is
still uphill and the stairs are strewn with tacks, but they keep climbing
upward while praising the God they serve. The black community exists and
persists because of them, a long line of strong, proud, faith-filled black
women, our mothers and grandmothers, our foremothers, our “sheroes.”
I feel blessed to be a part of that long line.
Diana L. Hayes is associate professor of theology at Georgetown
University in Washington.
National Catholic Reporter, February 21,
2003
|
|
