Positively Black and Positively Masculine: Deconstructing Toxic Masculinity Within the Black Community

The Black man is “forced” to be hard and not soft. The Black man is “forced” to be without emotions and not emotional. The Black man is “forced” to adhere to a strict code of masculinity and is not allowed to show an ounce of femininity. These enforcements are a result of living under a patriarchal society. To uphold these enforcements is to uphold white supremacy. If Black men were allowed to express themselves maybe they would be less violent. 

To the Black man: 

It is okay to be soft. It is okay to feel emotions. It is okay to be vulnerable. It is okay to ask for help. Holding on to the rough exterior of toxic masculinity is beneficial to no one. It has allowed violence to invade our community and put a wrench within the Black family dynamic. The root of this violence stems from generational trauma, the patriarchy, and toxic masculinity. Deconstructing toxic masculinity can be a step in the right direction for the progression of the Black man and the community as a whole.

Boys do in fact cry

One of the very first things that Black boys learn is that it is not okay to cry. Crying is a natural expression of emotions whether it comes from a positive or negative feeling. By bottling emotions, this causes a release in a maladaptive, or negative, way and this can be a possible root of violence. The first step to dismantling toxic masculinity within the Black community is by allowing young Black men to express their emotions in a positive manner so that they can grow up knowing that they are heard and valid.  

Down with the DL 

Homophobia is a serious problem within the Black American community and the African diaspora overall. Homophobia has made its way into the African diaspora from the West, white supremacy, and the spread of Christianity through European colonization and the transatlantic slave trade. Contemporarily, the  homophobia within the Black community has presented itself with derogatory language such as “sissy” to refer to boys for simply expressing themselves. A simple word can force closeted queer Black men even deeper into the closet or it can allow for heterosexual Black men to perpetuate homophobia and that can become violent. 

Within the queer community the down low, or DL, man is a man who has sex with men but is not open about his sexual preferences and may even have a partner who is of the opposite sex. (The term DL is a term from AAVE and it was originally in reference to a Black man who was down-low, but the definition has since been used in a broader sense regardless of race and ethnicity.) The issue with the DL man lies within the secrecy and concealing of their sexual preferences. It may sound harmless but it actually involves a lot of harm as their sexual partners can be subject to abuse and violence. Additionally, if the DL man has another partner, typically a woman, and who is not aware of the affairs outside of the relationship, this brings an issue of infidelity into the equation along with sexual health concerns. 

If Black men were free to express themselves and love who they wanted to love without judgment, they would be allowed to exist openly and not have to feel the need to conceal their true identities. 

Positive Masculinity 

Masculinity is not a problem and it does not have to be toxic as there is beauty within a positive approach to being masculine. Positive masculinity looks like a man who respects women and people of all gender and sexual identities. A Black man who protects Black women and Black trans and queer folks is embodying positive masculinity. Positive masculinity is being an example of a positive role model and leader. A Black man who is a present father and family member is embodying positive masculinity. Positive masculinity is embracing a softer side and being comfortable with your masculinity. A Black man who is comfortable with being vulnerable and can find the balance between the internal masculine and feminine energies is embodying positive masculinity. Positive masculinity is above all embracing the self and being free to express all of the things that make you who you are. Positively masculine Black men are what the Black community needs. 

Written by K. Pereira @kaleb.pereira922

Creative Director: Tayja Whyte @tayjaa.x

Production Manager: Chloe Kaleah Stewart @chloe.kaleah

Photography: Callum Floris @calamityfloris

Production: Mickayla Davis @_mickayladavis_ | Jazzi Almestica @shes.so.dope

PA: Elena Richardson @elfrances | Amanda Manson @_amanddaaa

Models: Mekayla Bailey @mekaylajade_21 | K Pereira @kaleb.pereira922

Armani Gabriel @armanigabriel_ | DJ Lorthe @jst_.dj | Kai Richberg @iamkairichberg | Najee Durrett @najeeed1234

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Amanda Manson @_amanddaaa | Chloe Kaleah Stewart @chloe.kaleah | Jordan Green @glssymintdrp | Thalia Bazile @thalia_bazile

Black Women Breaking Barriers: Thriving in Male-Dominated Fields

Let’s be real, when you think of a leader in tech, a CEO, an astronaut, or even a head coach, the first image that comes to mind isn’t always a Black woman. But that’s exactly why the rise of Black women in male-dominated fields is so powerful. They’re not just breaking glass ceilings, they’re shattering them, stepping over the pieces, and building entire empires in their wake. From the boardroom to the football field, Black women are redefining what success looks like. And honestly? I’m not even surprised.

Navigating a male-dominated space as a Black woman is like playing a video game on expert mode. The obstacles are plenty of bias, double standards, and the occasional “Are you sure you belong here?” look. But the women leading the charge aren’t just surviving in these spaces; they’re thriving.

Take Dr. Mae Jemison, the first Black woman in space. Or Ursula Burns, the first Black woman to become CEO of a Fortune 500 company (Xerox, in case you were wondering). Then there’s Serena Williams, who didn’t just play tennis, she dominated it, proving that power, skill, and resilience have no gender. These women didn’t just accept the status quo, they challenged it, rewrote the rules, and set new standards.

Why Representation Matters (AKA, “If You Can See It, You Can Be It”)

Think about it: If you never see someone who looks like you doing something, how do you even know it’s possible? Representation isn’t just a buzzword, it's fuel for the next generation. Imagine being a little Black girl who loves coding but never sees a Black female software engineer. Now, enter Kimberly Bryant, founder of Black Girls Code, who created an entire movement to get more young Black girls into tech. That’s the power of visibility.

When Black women take up space in male-dominated industries, they aren’t just proving a point, they’re opening doors for others to walk through. They’re making sure the next generation doesn’t have to wonder if they belong. They’ll already know they do.

The Future Looks Black and Brilliant

The best part? This movement isn’t slowing down. More Black women are stepping into roles as CEOs, engineers, pilots, and scientists every day. They’re launching businesses, leading revolutions, and refusing to accept “no” for an answer.

But here’s the thing: Breaking barriers isn’t just about personal success. The goal is to create opportunities for those to come. Black women in these spaces are mentoring, advocating, and investing in the future. They’re making sure that the struggles they faced aren’t repeated by the next wave of powerhouse women. So, if you ever hear someone say, “That’s a man’s job,” just smile and introduce them to the Black women proving them wrong every single day.

Written By: Chloe Kaleah Stewart @chloe.kaleah

Creative Director: Tayja Whyte @tayjaa.x

Production Manager: Chloe Kaleah Stewart @chloe.kaleah

Photography: Callum Floris @calamityfloris

Production: Mickayla Davis @_mickayladavis_ | Jazzi Almestica @shes.so.dope

PA: Elena Richardson @elfrances | Amanda Manson @_amanddaaa

Models: Mekayla Bailey @mekaylajade_21 | K Pereira @kaleb.pereira922

Amanda Manson @_amanddaaa | Chloe Kaleah Stewart @chloe.kaleah | Jordan Green @glssymintdrp | Thalia Bazile @thalia_bazile | Armani Gabriel @armanigabriel_ | DJ Lorthe @jst_.dj | Kai Richberg @iamkairichberg | Najee Durrett @najeeed1234

Don’t Touch My Hair: Barrettes to Silk-press

Pink, purple, yellow, blue, every hue and shade was at the fingertips of many little Black girls as their fingers cascaded and combed through the aisles of the Beauty supply store, half of the time the melody of barrettes would sing through their ears clicking against themselves as the day passed but on the other end what awaited them was a golden comb. One that would be sat on the stove before it was brought to their hair, singeing every tiny curl and coil. They would sit holding down their ears in anticipation of a brand new due for the occasion. Something that little afros or barrettes weren’t suited for, the only times Black hair was pressed for many little Black girls were on “special occasions,” which could have been an array of events from weddings to graduations. Where our hair in its rawest and naturalist state wouldn’t suffice. It was where many little Black girls learned what “professional” hair would look like as they moved into their adult lives.

For Black women, hair has long been seen as an expression of themselves. Something that can be manipulated and shaped in any way that they want, but as time went on it became a responsibility for some to “maintain it,” and then with age also came more unspoken rules. Some would be whispered from the mouths of mothers, grandmothers, aunties, and in some cases fathers. When the Black woman would appear with her hair in its natural state, it would be directed with an array of confusion, “are you going to do something to your hair???” A question which was usually met with an appointment the next day.

But when did the shift occur? When did we put down the barrettes and enter that next stage of life? When did primping become our new form of self-expression? Black hair has long held symbolism and fell into the same realm as self-expression; it holds the key to our identity literally and figuratively. It’s fluid in movement from afros to slick backs, all the way down to cornrows.

The youthful and colorful world of hair is something that doesn’t usually last long for the little Black girl, Black hair is quickly ushered into other phases which starts with braids most often, long (but not too long) and then once that's “too childish” or in some cases “not grown enough” for the occasion and or space. Before long, the Black woman's hair is back to that all too familiar world of what used to be a hot golden comb but has now been replaced by an appointment for a silk press. No longer is there a sound of beads and barrettes creating their own melody, which would be used as the anthem of creativity. But simply an open space, where the Black woman has to discover and redefine the creativity that was once being

fostered through her hair.

But as other stages of life begin to occur, there seems to be a “time and place” for certain styles. Suddenly, an Afro isn’t the style of choice; braids, to some, are reserved for special occasions. But the consensus is that in professional settings, in perspective industries, and some cases school. The consensus in regards to Black hair is that it has to be “simple." Not full of the creativity that was once accepted in youth, because hair has to be more manipulated to fit into the standard that some spaces require. Most times, this standard is unspoken and reduced to terms such as “unprofessional," which is then met with rejection of

the status quo of “professionalism.”

Black hair, although met with resistance, will only ever combat it with creativity. There was still expression through Black hair even when it seemed to no longer be an option. From the intricate details in knotless braids, to the patterns and designs shaped into cornrows, the dyed hues of pink, purple, yellow, blue, and every shade that are put through curls and coils, and all the way down to the barrettes and bows that have been reclaimed in adulthood stuck into our braids and curls in retaliation of society's distaste.

Written By: Makiyah Hicks @mikielo_

Creative Director: Tayja Whyte @tayjaa.x

Production Manager: Chloe Kaleah Stewart @chloe.kaleah

Photography: Callum Floris @calamityfloris

Article Written By: Makiyah Hicks @mikielo_

Production: Mickayla Davis @_mickayladavis_ | K Pereira @kaleb.pereira922 | Jazzi Almestica @shes.so.dope

PA: | Elena Richardson @elfrancesr | Amanda Manson @_.amanddaaa | Guilia Rodrigues @guilia_rodrigues9

Models: CharliRose Mosley @chaarrrlliiii | Kyra Merchant @kyra.who