You know how sometimes joy has to be fought for? That’s the truth of how this began. I looked around and saw Black girls carrying brilliance, creativity, and leadership, but the world too often wanted them to shrink, dim their shine, or sit quietly in the corner. And I thought, not on my watch.

It started small, just 30 students, laughter spilling out louder than the lesson plans on the term coined by  Alice Walker,  Womanism. There were Black Girls and their braids. Dreams bigger than the room could hold. We weren’t following some blueprint; we were following our spirit. We created a space where Black girls could walk in and exhale. Where their voices didn’t echo back emptiness but landed soft in a classroom.

And from that little spark, it grew, into programs, field trips, rituals, games, healing circles, and unapologetic affirmations. We discovered that joy is contagious: when one Black girl feels safe enough to dream, she gives permission to the next to dream even bigger.

That’s the root of it all: cultivating joy like it’s oxygen. Protecting it, passing it, planting it wherever we go. Because our girls deserve more than survival, they deserve to thrive, to laugh out loud, to lead boldly, and to dance in the fullness of their own light.