Matriarch: A Memoir

Dividing attention, food, money—all that care—into equal parts. The algebra of motherhood.

it was going to be a place that let a little Black girl know that she was beautiful. Not beautiful “too”—there was no need to factor in a certain criterion of beauty that centered whiteness. The pride should be based solely on her own self. Black is beautiful.

Anyone who’s worked at a nonprofit knows you do ten jobs and there’s still more to do.

A perfect summer day - like this one at age five - could last you forever if you started it early enough.

What’s your name?” he asked. “Beyoncé,” I told him

all have this power to be matriarchs, to be women of the sacred practice of nurturing, guiding, protecting—foreseeing and remembering. The matriarch’s wisdom is ancient, for she is filled with the most enduring, ferocious love.

Do you understand how proud I am of you for making this decision at 69 years old, that your happiness and the protection of your spirit are more important than appearances? You made the move. You are making the move for all of our mothers.

But one of the ways racism works is erasure. They didn’t want us to know our history because they were afraid of our futures.

whether it’s a hair salon or a record label—and instead of changing yourself to become someone’s idea of a “boss” you can remain who you are as success brings new challenges and goals. In the way that all of my daughters smartly refused to change who they were in order to be successful, Beyoncé could become more herself as the boss.

But one of the ways racism works is erasure. They didn't want us to know our history because they were afraid of our futures.

If I met me, I would want to date me. If I met me, I would want to be my friend. I would like me. Now, I just have to meet me.

From my first breath, I was told, shown, and embraced into knowing that it is an honor to be a Black person.

Let me just talk, nothing’s wrong except how I’ve treated you. You’ve been the best mom in the world to me. Me? I’m just an idiot, you know. I’m looking at these other people’s moms and I’m like, God, I didn’t even know moms like that existed. And here I have you and I’m sorry.

All the way back from when I was a little kid, I would let myself have a good cry and then say to myself, “Okay, suck it up and keep it moving.” That approach worked for me for a long time. I couldn’t know how this only meant I stored the trauma in my body—stashed it in my mind and heart to lie in wait. Keep it moving, I said. So I moved.