I think, though, as African-American women, we are always

The words of Anita Hill — “I think, though, as African-American women, we are always trained to value our community even at the expense of ourselves, and so we attempt to protect the African-American community” — carry the weight of history and the sorrow of sacrifice. In them she speaks to the double burden borne by Black women: to endure personal pain in silence, for fear that voicing it might bring harm to the larger body of their people. Her words are both confession and lament, revealing the tension between self-preservation and collective duty.

At its heart, this saying reveals the nobility and the tragedy of self-erasure. For African-American women, loyalty to the community has often meant swallowing injustices, denying wounds, and shielding men and institutions from criticism, lest enemies use their voices to wound the people as a whole. This devotion springs from centuries of oppression, where unity was survival. Yet it leaves unspoken the heavy truth: that such sacrifice comes at the cost of the self, and justice delayed for women weakens justice for all.

History bears painful witness. In the civil rights movement, women like Fannie Lou Hamer, Ella Baker, and Rosa Parks gave their strength to the cause, yet their names were often overshadowed by those of men. They carried the movement in body and spirit, yet sometimes silenced their own grievances to maintain solidarity against white supremacy. Their sacrifice upheld the community, but their individual struggles too often went unacknowledged. Anita Hill’s own testimony during the Clarence Thomas hearings reflected this same burden: her voice brought light to sexual harassment, yet she was accused of betraying her race for speaking against a Black man.

Her words remind us of the paradox: the very instinct to protect the community can perpetuate cycles of silence and suffering. To place the group above the self may seem heroic, but it risks erasing truths that must be spoken for healing to come. The true liberation of the African-American community requires not only unity against external foes, but also justice within, where women are free to speak without fear of harming the cause they cherish.

Let future generations hold fast to this wisdom: the strength of a community is not built upon the silencing of its women, but upon the honoring of their voices. The sacrifice of self for the whole may win survival, but the flourishing of all requires that every voice be heard. Anita Hill’s words endure as both warning and summons: that the path to true freedom lies not only in protecting the community, but in ensuring that no member of it must bear her pain alone.