Sisters, our power lies not in waiting for rescue but in rising together. My strength is yours, and your triumph is mine. We are the legacy we seek to build.

There comes a time when we must confront the truths that have followed us for generations, truths that demand our courage and our unity. Malcolm X spoke a truth that echoes even louder today: “The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the Black woman. The most neglected person in America is the Black woman.” And here we are—still carrying the weight, the disrespect, the burdens. We’ve shouldered these things alone, often even when surrounded by others. But today, I am saying this plainly: no one is coming to save us. It’s on us, collectively, just as it always has been.

Let’s talk plainly about what this means. We are not a monolith—far from it. We come from every walk of life, every corner of this country, and each of us carries her own story. We are high school girls, young women on our way, middle-aged women, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers who have seen it all. We are creatives, professionals, solopreneurs, entrepreneurs, corporate mavericks, small business owners, and even million and billion-dollar owners of conglomerates. Some of us are in small towns, where people know our names and our business. Others of us grew up in the heart of the city, hustling and navigating through life as if on autopilot. Some of us live in neighborhoods with manicured lawns; others are creating homes out of what we can, and still, some of us one paycheck from homelessness. We are poor, middle class, and wealthy. But despite our differences, we know what it means to be Black and woman in America.

So here is my call to us, sisters. We have to gather ourselves and lift each other up, just as we did when we stood behind Vice President Kamala Harris. That joy and collectiveness should not dissipate. And let’s not forget what we witnessed when Kamala Harris announced her candidacy for President. How Jotaka Eaddy, founder and CEO of Full Circle Strategies, LLC, brought together hundreds of thousands of Black women in support of Kamala Harris through Win With Black Women. She did that, collectively with other Black women! And collectively, we can do the same and even greater beyond the realm of politics—to position ourselves for ourselves. This power, this unity, can be ours every day, not just in election seasons. Remember, no one is coming to save us except us—Black women.

My great-grandmother, Freddie Tucker Moore Campbell, understood this power of unity. Born to a mother who had once been enslaved, she claimed her place in this world boldly, with pride and determination. She worked hard and acquired land in a small rural town in Mississippi, and she didn’t rest until she’d deeded one acre each to ten of her relatives—including my mother—ensuring they’d have a place to call home, a patch of earth to plant a garden, a stake in this world. She understood that it was her responsibility—and her joy—to make sure her people had the tools to help themselves. When she passed in 1988, she left additional land for her great-grandchildren, of which I am a recipient and part of her enduring legacy.

That’s what I’m calling us to do now. This time, our land isn’t just a plot of soil. It’s a foundation of unity, self-worth, and determination to be seen, heard, and respected. It’s a place where we don’t allow jealousy, competition, or cliques to pull us apart. We’re here for one another. We are stronger when we’re connected, sharing knowledge, compassion, and vision.

We need a higher level of compassion for each other, a higher level of perception. We need a level of humility that reminds us we are all in this together—that my success is yours, and your victory is mine. There’s no room for tearing down or questioning who deserves to be here. We all do. And we all must be here together, or we risk perishing individually. Because remember, no one is coming to save, inspire, encourage, or uplift us but us, Black women.

This is our moment. Our daughters are watching. Our mothers and grandmothers are looking on, proud, but also reminding us that this is a battle we can’t afford to lose. They didn’t march, fight, or sacrifice just so we could turn against each other. We are here to gather, to build, to lift as we climb.

To every Black woman reading this, know that you are valued beyond measure. And know that there is power—unbreakable power—in coming together, in supporting each other without reservation. When we organize ourselves, when we focus our energy on uplifting, on building, on creating, there is nothing that can stop us.

So let’s get clear, sisters. Let’s choose each other, fiercely and without hesitation. Let’s do it for the little girls looking up to us, for the ancestors who paved the way, and for ourselves, because we deserve a place where we’re respected and seen. We’re not here to be used; we’re here to create something real and lasting.

And let the world take notes. This time, we’re saving ourselves.

Chloé Taylor Brown