Growing up Black and female in the United States is an exercise in skill, fortitude and perseverance. Early in my childhood I developed an awareness of an inability to express my frustration about racism, sexism, and just growing up female. This precarious combination of factors made for a complex web of emotion, anger and disconnect in how I would grow up and position myself in the larger world. As an adult, I became increasingly disillusioned by the arrogance of scholars from all types of disciplines giving “voice” to the silenced, forgotten souls of women of African descent. Frankly, as a woman of African descent, I never felt silenced in my life. Invisible, yes, but not silenced. There were many moments when I was screaming at the top of my lungs, only to look around and realize that no one was listening. As African Diasporic people, we understand that not every person’s voice or story holds equal value in the past or present.