Why the Church Needs Black Girl Magic


“And don’t get it twisted, sis. I wake up every morning next to a headscarf and coconut oil. I’m married to a black queen.” – Randall Pearson

I know I’m not the only person who erupted with a flamboyant “Yesssss!” from the other side of their TV screen in response to Randall Pearson’s praise for his wife. The scarf. The coconut oil. The melanin. I may as well be Beth Pearson. This Is Us is always in my business.

Fictional as the scene may have been, I could not separate my emotions from the moment. Having aspects of my own reality endorsed as good is like medicine to a dull ache that I live with.

I’ve been the black girl in predominately white spaces for much of my life. I’m used to standing out from those around me. My hair seems to get bigger before it gets longer, and my skin is dark. The difficulties that come with being a double minority are not lost on me. Most of the time I don’t feel unwelcome, I just feel other.

My sense of otherness has only increased in recent years. After events like the murder of Trayvon Martin and Colin Kaepernick’s protests, some sort of chasm seemed to have opened between me and my white brothers and sisters in Christ. In recent months I have sat at Jesus’ feet, asking Him to renew my fissured faith. As a result, I have found a greater appreciation for who God has created me to be. A growing movement has played an important role in this process. …Read More.