Holding Space
- Tweet LC
- 2 hours ago
- 3 min read
When the Narrative Erasure of Black Women Becomes Violence
As a doula, my life’s work is about holding space. I am trained to witness, to protect, and to ensure that the voices of those I serve are centered, even and especially when they are vulnerable.
But recently, I’ve been witnessing a different kind of silencing in our media. It’s a pattern that erases the lives of Black women long before we ever have a chance to honor them. When we see the headlines, we are told to focus on the "mental health," the career struggles, or the "darkness" of the man who took a life.
But who is holding space for the life that was lost?
Today, I’m stepping out of my role as a doula and into my role as a student of sociology to talk about how the media helps us look away from femicide, and why, as a community, we need to learn how to look back.
The "Mental Health" Pivot: A Dangerous Distraction
We see it time and again: a tragedy happens, and the news cycle immediately pivots. Instead of investigating the systemic patterns of power and control that lead to violence, the story becomes a deep dive into the perpetrator’s psyche.
We hear about his depression. His isolation. His "obsession."
While mental health is a very real public health issue, in the context of femicide, this framing acts as a "retroactive justification loop." It makes the violence feel like an unpredictable mental health crisis rather than a predictable outcome of patriarchal control. It invites us to empathize with the person who caused harm, effectively sidelining the person who suffered the ultimate harm.
Case in Point: The Erasure of Cerina Fairfax
The recent murder-suicide involving former Virginia Lt. Governor Justin Fairfax and his wife, Dr. Cerina Fairfax, is a painful example of this.
In the wake of this tragedy, the media narrative quickly focused on his political collapse and his psychological state. He was painted as a man caught in a downward spiral.
By contrast, Cerina, a woman who was a devoted mother, a professional, and a caregiver, was framed almost entirely in relation to her husband. Her life, her agency, and her autonomous story were treated as footnotes to his "personal tragedy." When we define women only by their relationship to the men who hurt them, we participate in their erasure.
Why Black Women’s Lives Are "Less Visible"
This is intersectionality. A fancy word for something we already know in our bones: Black women move through the world carrying the weight of both racism and sexism.
This means that when Black women are victims of violence, the system, and the media, often undervalues their lives. Their deaths receive less sustained coverage, their stories aren't developed, and their victimization is easier for the public to minimize.
How We Can Be Better Witnesses
As members of this community, we can choose to be detectives of the truth. The next time you see a headline about a murder-suicide or domestic violence, ask yourself these questions:
Who is the "Main Character"? If the article spends more time on the perpetrator’s career or struggles than on the victim’s life, it’s not reporting, it’s narrative framing.
Is the violence framed as an "Anomaly"? If the story treats the act as an out-of-character mystery, it’s ignoring the very clear, documented patterns of power and control that almost always precede such violence.
Whose humanity is being prioritized? Are you being asked to feel sad for the perpetrator? If so, why?
✨ A Doula’s Call to Action
Our job, as a community, is to center the dignity of those we have lost. We do that by refusing to let their stories be swallowed by the narratives of those who harmed them. We do that by demanding that we look at the patterns of violence, not just the pathology of the individuals.
Let’s hold space for the women who are no longer here to tell their own stories. Let’s make sure their names, not their abusers’ excuses, are what we remember.
🌵✨ BDDNM