In Awe of our Black Moms

I remember waking up to the sound of a rooster every morning when my mom and I lived with my grandparents.  We would walk out of the room to greet them as they enjoyed their cups of coffee.  I didn’t understand what they were saying because their morning discussions were primarily in French.  However, just seeing the two of them together in the morning was so warm.  They are the reasons I love early mornings.  I miss them.  As I grew older, I started to realize that there were some details I didn’t appreciate about those morning conversations at that time.  As a 5-year-old, just walking out of the room and seeing them together was good enough for me.  But as an adult, I realized that although I was a grandfather’s girl, it was my grandmother that I was in awe of.  She was the epitome of what it means to be a Black mother. 

My grandmother woke up before the sun even thought about rising; She’d make their beds, cook breakfast, roast coffee, and get dressed before heading out to work.  She woke up before the rooster did.  She helped raise her brother, the children of white judges and lawyers, 5 children of her own, and she helped in raising me.  She was a loving, nurturing, strong, smart, sassy, and independent Black woman.  She was empathic, she loved laughing, singing, and could cut you with her words if you needed some tough love.  I could never put her in one box because she simply wouldn’t fit into one.  Shopping was her “me” time and she was adamant about having time for herself.  She was a collaboration of everything that makes someone special.  She was a Black mom.

I’m so blessed to have witnessed those same qualities in my mom.  She taught me that Clark Kent was not the only one who could use superhero powers to save the day.  As a single Black mom, she made things happen.  She walked by faith, she was good to people, and encouraged everyone she knew.  She wasn’t married to my dad but eventually got married to my stepdad and gave me two beautiful, little sisters.  Although I enjoyed being the only child for 14 years, my sisters were the loves of my life.  After only 8 years of marriage, my stepdad was tragically murdered, and my mom was now a single mother of 3 Black girls.  Her faith in God increased even more and I watched God perform and show out in her life and ours.  Her dedication to us taught me the power of Black motherhood.  She didn’t take much time to nurture herself but when she did, she was energized to do more for even more people.  She loved her people and it showed.  I don’t know where we would be without her.  Her example of tenacity, endurance, support, and love is why I believe being a Black mom is my greatest superpower.

Here’s what these two women have taught me about the power of Black motherhood.  Whether you’re single or married, you’re powerful, strong, and versatile.  You can throw on some heels from 9-5 and then come home and still kill it in yoga pants.  You can be effective no matter what hat you wear.  Your power extends beyond generations.  Your contribution to your family tree can bear much fruit so that the generations that follow you can still eat.  Your compassion and love can multiply because of the seeds you carry inside.  Just make sure you’re getting enough sunlight and water to nurture YOU in order to bear those fruits.  Make sure you’re rooted and planted, in your life, by water that moves and quenches the thirst of your soul.  Remember to take care and mother yourself too because we need you.  We all do.

K. LaFleur- Anders

K. is a Southwest Louisiana wife, mom of 5, writer, connector, and entrepreneur who balances smelly socks, blogging, football practices, volunteering, and giving out hugs and kisses.  She is a down-to-earth foodie who is crazy about dogs, coffee, and plants.  K. wholeheartedly believes that her writing is to be used to extend love, offer encouragement, and provide motivation to Moms who just need to breathe and hit their wellness reset button.  You can find out more about K. by visiting her website at or @resetwithk_ on IG.