By Janelle Williams, Ph.D.

Earlier this month, I had the honor of speaking to a room teeming with women leaders – journalists, C-suite members, educators, physicians, nonprofit executives and entrepreneurs – in Savannah during the Greater Savannah Black Chamber of Commerce’s EmpowHer Voices of Influence 2026.

It wasn’t just a gathering in celebration of Women’s History Month, though we all appreciate occasions that lift up the contributions of women to events in history and contemporary society. This beautiful moment felt like more. Being surrounded by the generations of leadership in the room was the embodiment of the spirit of resilience that is Black women’s lineage. Women who have raised families while building careers. Women who have mentored girls while leading organizations. Women who have held communities together while navigating systems that were never built with us in mind. It was an affirmation of purpose and impact that we all need so much right now as we are still leading, still building and still rising even while Black women are facing disproportionate job losses.

It’s no secret that Black women faced the steepest losses – a purging from the labor market described by The Economic Policy Institute as “one of the sharpest one-year declines in the last 25 years.”

More than 350,000 Black women were pushed out of the labor market, and the employment-to-population ratio dropped to 55.7 percent. By the end of the year there were 113,000 fewer jobs held by Black women, and tens of thousands left the workforce entirely. These statistics are not hard to find. What’s missing from the discourse, however, is that when Black women experience economic displacement, the ripple effects are not isolated. 

Because Black women are disproportionately breadwinners, when we lose economic ground—entire households feel the impact. Entire communities feel the impact. 

And so, resilience has never been optional for us. But here is what I find extraordinary and reassuring about Black women. When systems close doors, we do not simply disappear. We adapt. We organize. We build. 

In fact, what I often describe as the resilient rebellion of Black women is happening all across this country. Despite facing the highest barriers to capital, Black women are the fastest-growing group of entrepreneurs in America. Despite systemic inequities in education and income, Black women are among the most educated groups in this nation, pursuing college and advanced degrees at remarkable rates. And despite political systems that historically marginalized our voices, Black women remain among the most powerful civic leaders in this country—organizing communities, mentoring young people, and shaping our democracy. 

That is not just resilience. That is leadership. That is power. And none of it happens alone because one of the greatest strengths of Black women’s leadership is community. 

In my life, I am part of a circle of women we call the Council. 

There are no bylaws. No formal titles. No official meetings. But what we have is sacred. We hold each other accountable; we root fiercely for each other and challenge each other to live fully into our purpose. And we have collectively rejected something society often encourages among women. We reject “pick-me” attitudes. The idea that there is only room for one woman at the table. The idea that success requires separating yourself from other women. In our circle, we reject that completely. 

Because we understand something deeply rooted in Black women’s history. There has never been just one seat at the table. 

Images, Shots by Somi