Dear White Women: What Are You Fighting For? A hard truth about feminism, power, and racial justice

This piece might make you uncomfortable. And that’s okay.

No movement for justice was ever won from a place of comfort. Lean into it. Let it stretch you. Growth is exactly what this moment demands.

August 26 is Women’s Equality Day—a day that commemorates the 1920 passage of the 19th Amendment, which granted women in the U.S. the right to vote. But let’s be clear: it didn’t grant all women that right. Black, Indigenous, Latina, and Asian women were systematically excluded, both by law and by force.

More than a century later, the struggle for gender equity continues—but so does the erasure of those of us who live at the intersection of racism and sexism.

So no, Women’s Equality Day is not a victory lap for all women—it’s a reminder of unfinished business. A day that should push us to ask uncomfortable questions about who this “equality” serves, and whose struggles it continues to ignore.

For me, it’s also a day of remembrance. A year ago, I lost my mother, General Mrs. Kwamu-Nana nee Abunaw Marie, to cancer, on International Women's Day, March 8. One year later, I found myself standing at San Diego’s International Women’s Day rally as both MC and speaker, grappling with her absence and fueled by her legacy. She was a fierce advocate for women’s rights, human dignity, and truth-telling—even when uncomfortable. She was relentless in her pursuit of justice, never shying away from hard truths—especially when they disrupted comfort.

So today, I carry her legacy forward by asking white women in particular: is your fight for equality broad enough to hold the liberation of every woman, or is it just about securing a bigger slice of the same unequal pie? Because equality without justice isn’t progress—it’s privilege in a new outfit.

So in her honor, I offer this reflection. Not just to speak truth to power—but to challenge those who strive to fight for justice, especially white women, to look deeper, listen harder, and do better. Especially those who only began caring or organizing after Trump’s election, reelection, or the overturning of Roe v. Wade. You are beginning to get a taste of what Black women have endured all along—while many of you remained unbothered, dismissing our cries or never truly hearing them at all.

Yes, women’s rights are absolutely under attack. But for far too long, the fight for gender equality in this country has ignored a crucial truth: not all women experience womanhood—or oppression—the same way.

Feminism that fails to challenge racism doesn’t liberate. It simply redistributes privilege to the second most privileged. 

And so, to the women’s movement, I must ask: What are you fighting for?

Are you truly fighting for the liberation of all women? Or just for the right of some to rise in a system that was never designed to serve the rest of us?

Let’s be honest: feminism in this country has long been described by Black and Indigenous women as “white supremacy on heels.”

How does that make you feel?

Does it make you defensive—or curious enough to ask how you might be unintentionally contributing to this painful reality?

Because here’s the truth: just because you didn’t vote for Trump, or wore a blue bracelet or a pink pussy hat, doesn’t mean you are safe for Black and Brown women.

Just because you stand for women’s rights, doesn’t mean you’re standing for all women.

In fact, research and lived experience tell us that the greatest everyday harm to Black women doesn’t typically come primarily from white men—it comes primarily from white women. In workplaces. In churches. In nonprofits. In so-called progressive organizations, and spaces where we’re told we “belong.”

We know white women have been the primary beneficiaries of affirmative action. The same is true for most Diversity, Equity & Inclusion (DEI) programs—yet many of the loudest voices calling for their dismantling are the very ones who benefited most, especially when they perceived those programs were helping Black people more.

So again I ask: What are you really fighting for?

Are you fighting for an intersectional women’s movement that centers race and class?

Or are you fighting for a version of equality where white women gain equal power to white men—while leaving everyone else behind?

Are you fighting for true liberation?

Or just for better access to the same oppressive systems that have harmed others for generations?

Are you fighting for a just society—or simply the right to operate more easily or rise within an unjust one?

Are you fighting to return to an America that may have had more rights for some women—but where Black and Latina women still earn only 82 and 72 cents for every dollar a white woman makes?

Are you fighting to return to an America where women have more rights—yet Black and Brown women still live in daily fear for their lives and their loved ones because of state violence?

An America where Diversity, Equity & Inclusion (DEI) initiatives claim to level the playing field—but mostly uplift those already closest to power, while the most marginalized still fight for scraps of inclusion?

An America where Black people are presumed to be the face—and the primary beneficiaries—of DEI, yet hold only 3.1% of DEI leadership roles, while white people (mostly white women) dominate 81.3% of those positions?

An America where Black women suffer the highest maternal mortality rates in the developed world—3.4 times that of white women?

An America where Black mothers spend disproportionate energy trying to keep their children out of the school-to-prison pipeline’s grasping jaws, instead of having time to simply play?

Or one plagued by the “Not-Here Syndrome”—where people decry racism “out there,” but deny it within themselves or their own schools, churches, friend groups, teams, or organizations?

Because if we’re not fighting for the liberation of the most marginalized, then what are we fighting for?

Let’s face it - if we had listened to the most marginalized amongst us, we wouldn’t be in this situation today as a country.

If feminism is not intersectional, it’s not justice. And if gender equity doesn’t include racial equity, then it’s just another form of white supremacy—wearing a feminist T-shirt.

The Work Ahead—And An Invitation

White women have always played a pivotal role in social change—for better or for worse. This moment calls for a new kind of leadership: not one that seeks to reclaim comfort, but one that commits to shared liberation.

The truth is, allyship is not identity—it’s sustained action. And action starts with education. It starts with courageous self-reflection, historical unlearning, and a willingness to hold the mirror up, not just to others—but to ourselves, and listening deeply to lived realities that may not mirror our own.

That’s why I created Beyond Black History: A Personal Journey Through Culture, Identity & Transformation—a series of virtual Lunch & Learn experiences that uncover the lesser-known legacies of Black and African contributions to global history, and how those legacies shape identity, confidence, and the power to drive systemic change. It weaves personal storytelling, cultural insight, historical critique, and humor to reduce bias, build bridges, and activate transformation.

In order to reduce white supremacy, it's important to understand how it was built.

Because solidarity isn’t a slogan.

It’s a daily decision.

It’s sustained action.

It’s choosing, again and again, to fight for the liberation of all of us—not just those who look like us or live like us.

That’s what my mother taught me. That’s what I hope we carry forward.

While I don’t currently have a public Beyond Black History session scheduled, those interested in being notified of the next set of public sessions can leave their contact info and expression of interest at www.setche.com/contact.

Further, if you’re curating any culture, employee engagement or DEI programming or talks, let’s connect. I offer talks, workshops, programming and performances rooted in cultural truth, innovation, and belonging. Click HERE to contact me.

Setche Kwamu-Nana is a Culture Strategist, DEI & Learning & Development Consultant, keynote speaker, and engineer-turned-equity-evangelist based in San Diego, CA. She helps organizations reduce turnover and drive innovation by unlocking the power of their workforce’s cultural diversity and deepening employee engagement. More at  www.Setche.com/biography