Last week, I began a series on the power of witnessing.

Based on the feedback I received, it resonated deeply. Many of you shared that it named something you’ve been feeling—at work, in leadership, and during seasons of transition and uncertainty—something you hadn’t quite had language for.

So today, I want to continue that conversation, with the hope of supporting all of us in our efforts to build more loving, affirming, and supportive communities.

And before I go any further, I want to again define witnessing for anyone who may be joining us for the first time.

Witnessing is not simply noticing someone’s presence.

To witness is to:

• see truth clearly
• and testify to it out loud

When you witness someone, you are saying:

I see what you can do, and I value who you are.
I recognize your humanity, even if the world does not.
I honor your contribution, even if it goes unrewarded.
I remember you, even when history or leadership tries to forget you.

Remeber, witnessing isn’t about applause. It’s not a symbolic celebration or surface-level praise.

Witnessing is about seeing people and their realities clearly—and responding with care.

As we enter Black History Month—a time to honor the lives, legacies, and contributions of Black people—I want to pause and speak with intention, especially to Black women, as we continue the conversation I began last week.

Although many of us are navigating job loss and career uncertainty, research consistently confirms that Black women are experiencing higher rates of job loss, greater financial instability, and more frequent career transitions than any other demographic group.

Unfortunately, I have seen this play out in boardrooms, ministries, and community spaces alike, where Black women continue to execute strategies, solve problems, and steady institutions even as their own job security and financial stability are threatened.

In moments like this, witnessing is not optional. It is vital to nourish the soul and support a person’s dignity.

And as we all endeavor to witness each other in confidence-building and dignity-affirming ways, I want to share five specific ways we can witness Black women—ways that protect humanity, interrupt erasure, and support healing.

1. Witness Their Strengths (Talent, Skills, and Expertise)

When we talk about witnessing the strength of Black women, we are not only talking about emotional endurance. We are also talking about talent, expertise, insight, wisdom,  creativity, and skill.

Witnessing here means naming what Black women do well—how they think, lead, solve problems, create, and elevate both the work and the people around them.

Why this matters:
When talent and expertise are shared without care, acknowledgment, or appreciation, it can feel like exploitation. Over time, that exploitation can feel like extraction and usury.

Also, being constantly relied upon for what we do well—without being rewarded—undermines confidence, squashes potential, and discourages continued contribution. It breeds resentment, leads to exhaustion, and discourages participation.

What witnessing strengths can sound like:

“I see how talented you are in this situation.”
“You are an effective writer and leader, and your creativity elevates this work.”
“Your expertise is shaping the outcome in meaningful ways, and I want to name that.”

2. Witness Their Success

Black women continue to achieve success (based on their own definitions and own terms)  despite systemic barriers, unequal access, and constant scrutiny. Yet that success is often minimized, delayed, denied, erased, or credited elsewhere.

Witnessing success means naming achievement clearly, without qualification or minimization. It means acknowledging that Black women have achieved, overcome obstacles, and made sacrifices to accomplish their goals.

It is also a recognition that their success often came at a high emotional, physical, and spiritual cost.

Why this matters:
Over time, failure to witness success teaches society to discount, disrespect, and deny the contributions, inventions, and impact of Black women. It also teaches Black women to shrink instead of shine and to minimize the ways they transform the world.

What witnessing success can sound like:

“Your success is not accidental. It reflects your leadership, skill, and persistence.”
“You are a difference maker, a game changer, and a trailblazer. What you have accomplished on your own terms serves as a model for women coming behind you.”
“I appreciate you and I am deeply inspired by the sacrifices you made and the business you created to support young people.”

3. Witness Their Struggle

Black women are frequently expected to perform without pause, to handle crisis without acknowledgment, and to absorb emotional, spiritual, and relational strain without relief.

What is often unnamed is this: the ability to navigate chaos, complexity, and crisis comes at a cost.

Managing complexity, navigating chaos, and juggling mutiple responsibilities takes an emotional, spiritual, and physical toll on the body, mind, and soul. And these tolls frequently go unnoticed and unnamed until they manifest as exhaustion, illness, or disengagement.

Why this matters:
Unwitnessed struggle leads to burnout—not because of a lack of resilience, but because of prolonged invisibility, lack of support, lack of protection, and unmet care.

What witnessing can sound like:

“I see how much this has required of you.”
“What you’re carrying has weight.”
“Even though it looks easy,  I know that it is hard and feels heavy.”

4. Witness Their Sadness

Sadness is often overlooked because strength is expected. That expectation is reinforced by historical narratives that normalize Black pain and mythicize Black endurance. Both do Black women a profound disservice.

There is also shame attached to sadness, grief, and depression. In some cultures, vulnerability and transparency are even misread or misunderstood as weakness, which further increases feelings of shame and isolation.

Why this matters:
Sadness that goes unseen turns into sickness. And sickness eventually erodes well-being, wellness, and wholeness.

What witnessing can sound like:

“You don’t have to be strong right now.”
“Your feelings are real, and they matter.”
“The situation is heavy and draining.  You are not flawed for feeling it.”

5. Witness Their Shifts

Witnessing shifts means affirming that change is allowed and welcomed.

It means understanding that growth should be supported—not punished or penalized.

The truth is: emotional/spiritual healing, establishing boundaries, and making new choices will disrupt family dynamics, alter relationships, and change access to people who demand older versions of ourselves. In fact, making self-enriching and self-affirming decisions can feel threatening to people who benefited from us deprioritizing our needs, de-centering our wants, and denying our true identities.

Why this matters:
Shifts without affirmation can feel destabilizing rather than liberating. People need to know they are permitted, encouraged, and celebrated as they evolve.  Our transformation should be honored. Our growth should never cost us respect, belonging, or safety.

What witnessing can sound like:

“I see how you are changing, and I honor the courage it takes to choose yourself.”
“I see how you are growing—and your growth inspires me to grow too.”
“I see how you move differently now, and by watching you, I’m learning how to honor myself more.”

This week, I released a podcast episode titled: “Do You See Us? The Healing Power of Witnessing Black Women.”

In it, I explore these five ways of witnessing more deeply—why they matter, how they heal, and how they protect dignity and interrupt erasure. You can listen on Apple, YouTube, or your platform of choice.

I invite you to listen. I invite you to reflect.  Most of all, I invite you—especially during Black History Month—to seek out opportunities to witness Black women and to allow yourself to be witnessed by people who truly value you.

Remember, Black women do not need to be fixed. They need to be WITNESSED! They need to be protected, appreciated, and affirmed.

This week, ask yourself:

• Who is a Black woman in my life whose humanity I MUST witness more fully—starting today?
• What might I, as a Black woman—or as a loving human—do to witness myself more fully?
• How can I witness the unique realities of others in more life-enriching, soul-nourishing ways?

*If this message resonates and you find yourself longing to be seen, affirmed, and held in a thoughtful space, I want to extend a personal invitation.

In March, I’ll be offering a small-group witnessing experience—a guided, intimate space designed for reflection, truth-telling, and soul-centered support.

• The group will include up to five women.

• I also have two openings for one-on-one work for those who desire more personalized support.

If you’re interested in joining the group or learning more about working with me individually, please email me directly for details. I would be honored to walk with you during this season.

Sending you blessings as I witness you,
SharRon