Whether through prose, dance, woven fabric, or canvas, Black womxn (regardless of sex assigned at birth) continue to share their truths. When we listen to their stories, our stories, we understand the roots and significant challenges of racial and gender violence impacting Black birthing people. Additionally, our truths or self-awareness of our experiences and our ability to understand our feelings and identities disrupt anti-Blackness. So, to this end, I have spent much of my life documenting and listening to our stories.
“People automatically assume that the things that I’m experiencing, especially when it comes to anything biological, it’s because I’m fat. And I’m like, my uterus is not overweight.”
Along my journey, I met Dr. Ka'Lyn "Kay" Coghill, a Black, fat, non-binary femme, poet, professor, reproductive justice organizer, doula, and current Digital Director at me too. International. For a good portion of our time together, we spent countless mornings on Zoom “kiki’ing” about celebrity gossip, sharing Black feminism texts, blasting Black womxn raps, providing each other tips on managing our Hidradenitis suppurativa (HS), listening to each other's dreams, and offering a safe space for one another to share our truths. When working on my dissertation on Black Queerness and reproduction in the summer of 2022, I was eager to listen to my sib, Kay's story. Kay's experience with reproduction turned quickly into learning more about fatphobia's connection to anti-Blackness and their challenge with getting health care providers to listen to Kay’s health care concerns as a fat Black femme.
Robyn: "And then just speaking about the medical route, what do you feel about your experience with the health care system as a Black non-binary person?”
Kay: “Well, I think that, because I'm woman presenting, people automatically assume that I'm a woman, but I am fat, so, like, I'm a fat Black so that automatically comes with this whole host of intersecting oppressions where like people associate your weight, with everything that you are experiencing.”
Kay: “So, like, when I was experiencing not having a cycle for years, they would say, "oh, you need to lose weight!"
"I'm like bitch, it’s plenty of fat bitches out here! What are you talking about? The medical community, in general, they're just extremely racist and fatphobic, and I feel like when they see a fat body, especially a fat Black body or a woman, they just automatically assume that everything is associated with their weight. I feel like my weight has played a role in people not taking my own experiences with my miscarriages or just experiences with fertility issues seriously. Cause I'm fat. People automatically assume that the things that I'm experiencing, especially when it comes to anything biological, it's because I'm fat. And I'm like, my uterus is not overweight."
The conversation above highlights how health care providers make assumptions about people's health based on what they can see physically, like their race, body size, and gender; none of this is based on health-related testing but rather biases. Similarly, Kay's experience as a fat Black birthing person was similar to experiences shared by other fat Black birthing people that I listened to that summer. One femme mentioned having multiple experiences in a hospital setting where the doctors refused to provide reproductive health care to them until they met the BMI parameters for someone of their height and age. Other Black folks discussed being forced to take gestational diabetes tests far too early during their pregnancy journey or repeatedly, even after receiving negative results initially.
There is a sinister myth in the dominant health care system that fatness equals unhealthiness. Additionally, throughout U.S. history and health culture from the 19th century to the present, there has been a focus on body size and race that informs the politics of desirability and civility. The politics of desirability, over time, have been used to uphold slavery, racism, and classism, particularly for Black birthing people. In return, these beliefs related to what is desirable have afforded people with "thin white bodies" more ease and access in their day-to-day living and even with something as simple as getting a health care provider to listen to their concerns due to their race and body size.
The goal of this essay is not to reclaim fat bodies as healthy. As Sonya Renee Taylor mentioned in her book, The Body is Not An Apology, that belief is "equally damaging" as the idea that we could create any metric of health that would encompass everyone. Instead, I am asking for us to listen. We already know what happens when we don't listen to Black womxn and the consequences of our ignoring them. It is time for us to show the world-making power that exists when we listen to Black womxn, especially Black womxn living at the intersections of fatness. When we believe Black fat womxn's stories, we create space for different truths to exist. In these truths lies a reimagining, a new way of living where equitable access to health care belongs to everyone.
Definition Hidradenitis suppurativa (HS):
A condition causing small, painful lumps to form under the skin, typically where sweat and rubbing occurs such as the armpits, groin, breasts, and buttocks. The lumps can recur and cause scarring and tunnels under the skin. It tends to start after puberty and is more likely to affect women and Black people. Because it may require regular attention and pain, HS can have an impact on daily life and emotional wellbeing.
