In this season of such detriment and destruction, our collective survival will rely on organizing and rebuilding at the local level. Just like the old saying goes, Think Globally, Act Locally. This dictum makes sense to me as I think about my childhood in Harlem. This neighborhood will be the focus of this #SistoryLesson. In this edition of #SistoryLessons, we’ll pay homage to laudable community caregivers, Clara (Mother) Hale and Yuri Kochiyama from my Our Brave Foremothers book, and a newer discovery for me, a dynamic woman named Ethel Maud Collins. Let’s explore how their life stories can help us gather fortitude for tough times.

Healthcare has been a contentious political issue since the early 20th century, and current cuts to the already weak safety net make the situation dire. Rollbacks in rural healthcare funding, reduced support for community clinics, and attacks on public health protections hit hardest in areas with the least access. When hospitals close and programs are gutted, the poor, elderly, and communities of color bear the greatest burden. Yet, the United States also has a strong legacy of community-based caregiving, much of it led by Women of Color determined to meet their communities’ needs. This edition of #SistoryLessons aims to highlight their resilience and inspire innovative approaches to healthcare survival.

Let’s take a moment, in this era of entrenching authoritarianism, systemic rollback of rights, and attacks on marginalized communities, to reaffirm its origins: amplification of the the labor movement and workers' rights.

Activist figures such as Lucy Gonzalez Parsons, Sarah Parker Remond, Louise Thompson Patterson, and one of my most revered 20th and 21st-century legends, Angela Davis, remind us that resistance is rooted in connection—to history, to each other, and to justice. Let's celebrate their valor and emulate their spirit.

Art can be many things: refuge, bridge, witness. For three Brown women we will celebrate in this edition of #SistoryLessons—Etel Adnan, Zarina Hashmi, and Pacita Abad—art was, and remains, a living archive of memory, migration, and self. Each woman lived through war, authoritarian rule, exile, and silence. And each, in her own lexicon—abstract color, minimalist line, layered textile, or words in many languages—turned those realities into forms of witnessing, remembering, and reclaiming.

They used paint, paper, fabric, form, words, and wisdom to remind us that telling collective stories is more than a celebratory stance or a beautiful object, it can be a form of protest, and survival. We were here. We are still here. We will not disappear.

But before we get to them, let me say a few clarify my usage of the terms “Brown” and “Girls.”

What Elizabeth Key Grinstead, Mary Richards (Mary Bowser), and Mary Touvestre can Teach Us About Being Wily! In this era of backsliding rights, voter suppression, book bans, and open descent into authoritarian rule in the U.S. and around the world,…

We Should Celebrate Native Foremothers Every Month! (Originally published November 30, 2025) As you may know, November was Native American Heritage month, but as with all these “commemorative months,” our focus is never limited to 30 or 31 days (don’t…