A Call for Essays & Other Works

We invite essays, poetry, and creative reflections that speak to these themes, raw, unfiltered, and unapologetic. Share this call with your networks: friends, family, colleagues, community organizations, writing groups, and social media. 

If your organization supports Black women and wants to collaborate, reach out to us via Email.

Why This Matters

Black women are not a percentage; we are a testament. We are artists, mothers, federal workers, soldiers, scholars, faith leaders, caregivers, strategists, truth-tellers, and visionaries. In every region of the country and across generations, we showed up and we continue to show up, organizing, voting, protecting democracy, holding families and futures together. 

When the call came in the Summer of 2024, Harris stepped forward, we answered with our whole selves: door knocking for all of our futures, joining postcard writing parties, staffing voter registration tables, attending rallies with our children, and turning church basements into war rooms. 

In November, 92% (or more) of Black women voters cast their ballots, not as a monolith, but as a mosaic, for hope, stability, and democracy. And yet, our voices were again overlooked, our labor undervalued, our power underestimated.

This anthology is our counter-narrative.
 

In this era when our history is being erased, our rights reneged, resources rolled back, and our bodies still policed, We the 92% is more than a book. It is a weapon of memory, proof we were here, phone-banking with babies on our hips, turning sorority meetings into strategy sessions. 

It is a sanctuary for rage and reinvention, where we honor the exhaustion of fighting systems that change just enough to stay the same. 

It is our record, of how we loved each other through the letdown, organized through the outrage, and taught our children to fight then and now into the aftermath of the election outcome. 

Share your essay, poems, or other work to lift up and inspire now and for future generations.

We seek essays, poetry, and hybrid works that capture the full spectrum of this moment:

• The cost of showing up - How we organized, voted, and grieved as DEI programs vanished, federal protections crumbled, and the economy betrayed us.

• The audacity of rest -Where we found joy, silence, or solace amid the storm.

• The labor behind the numbers - The kitchen-table strategizing, the unsung movements, the "I’m tired but I’m going" grit that never makes headlines.

• The futures we’re seeding - How we have been impacted by the sweeping changes to our lives since the election by Executive Orders, how we’re raising our children, building communities, and imagining freedom beyond this broen period of time.

This is not just about politics. It’s about our legacy.

Your words will sit beside sisters, elders, and ancestors. They will be a balm and a blueprint. A reminder that we were here, living, loving, and resisting, while democracy is dangling by a thread.

What We're Looking For

We are seeking personal essays (800–1,200 words) and other works that reflect the complexity of this post-election moment. Your piece may touch on themes such as:

• Political disappointment or disillusionment

• Project 2025 and impact

• The rule of law

• Faith/Spirituality/Religion and survival

• The Federal workforce

• Our health and healthcare

• Our civil/human rights

• Rage and righteousness

• Family conversations

• Community grief and healing

• Cultural legacy and generational memory

• Personal reckonings and private hope

Each essay should feel true to you. We are not looking for punditry, we are looking for your unique presence. Entries can not be wholly or primarily generated by artificial intelligence (AI).