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“Still Here, Still Rising”: The Resilience and Reality of Black Women Graduate Students

Graduate school is often described as a journey—one of transformation, intellectual growth and discovery. But for Black women, this journey is not a simple path paved with opportunity. Instead, it winds through complicated terrains of invisibility, overperformance, cultural tension and emotional strain. The promise of advanced education collides with the realities of systemic inequities, and yet, Black women persist. Their persistence, however, should not be romanticized. As the research shows, it is often achieved despite institutional neglect—not because of meaningful support.

From Hope to Disillusionment: The Transition into Graduate School

For Black women, especially those coming from Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs), entering a predominantly white institution (PWI) can feel like stepping into a foreign land. One student reflected, “I loved it (at my HBCU) … I felt at home; it was a family atmosphere… You could be you and find a place instead of trying to fit in.”1

That “fit,” however, was abruptly disrupted upon arrival at a PWI. Students described these institutions as “cordial” or “chilly”—spaces where they felt tolerated rather than embraced.

The academic shift was jarring. While some came in confidently, others worried they were underprepared, only to find that their fears were echoed by assumptions made about them. One student confessed, “I am always trying to prove myself … I have a slight fear of being labeled the lazy, unintelligent, or rude/angry Black girl from the HBCU.”1

These internalized fears were not born from nowhere; they were fueled by faculty who held low expectations and peers who offered politeness without cultural awareness.

Teaching While Black: Pedagogical Burden and Resistance

Black women serving as graduate instructors navigate a uniquely layered challenge: the expectation to educate others while simultaneously managing their own marginalization. Drawing on Black feminist pedagogy, sought to disrupt whiteness in the classroom, only to face silence or outright resistance.2  Their efforts to raise critical consciousness were met with requests for "cheat codes"—an evasion of deep reflection on race and power.

“They assumed this task was my job,” one educator noted, “which troubled me. Women of color have long lamented being expected to serve as a bridge to white folks’ understanding of racial and gender oppression.”2 

The weight of teaching justice under conditions of precarity—limited curriculum control, poor job security, and threat of retaliation—meant that even acts of resistance carried high emotional costs.

Daily Battles: Microaggressions and Doubt

Even outside the classroom, Black women experience a steady hum of microaggressions that cast doubt on their competence. These moments, often subtle and difficult to pinpoint, left many students asking: “Was that about me being Black? A woman? Both?”3

The ambiguity created a fog of self-questioning and emotional labor. These aggressions were amplified by the competitive and dismissive culture of many academic departments, especially in STEM.

One participant reflected on being told she only got into the program “because [she] was a Black woman,” describing it as “another stab at that confidence, like you don’t actually belong here.”4

Another noted, “It hit me that it doesn’t matter what degrees I have… I didn’t matter.”4

Mental Health as a Battleground

Beyond the interpersonal challenges lies a more insidious threat: declining mental health. Students reported symptoms of depression, anxiety, and in severe cases, suicidal ideation. One participant said,

“I was depressed. I had no motivation, no energy, no enthusiasm, no desire to do this.”4 

This emotional burden was compounded by racial violence in broader society and the deafening silence from peers and faculty. When students did seek support, they were often met with indifference. One professor flatly told a struggling student, “I cannot help you.”4 In such moments, the university’s commitment to “diversity” rang hollow.

The Bigger Picture: Economic Precarity and Policy Neglect

The challenges Black women face in graduate school do not exist in isolation—they are reinforced by broader patterns of economic vulnerability and federal neglect. Black women have long relied on public sector jobs as relatively stable paths toward economic mobility, often due to systemic exclusion from the private sector. However, recent federal transitions have again shown how policy shifts disproportionately harm Black women.

Between Feb. and July 2025, during a period of federal downsizing, Black women lost 319,000 jobs across public and private sectors—the only major female demographic to experience such significant job losses. This was not a random fluctuation. Black women are heavily concentrated in federal agencies and roles tied to government contracts. When funding is cut or reallocated, they are the first to feel the impact. In July 2025, the unemployment rate for Black women rose to 6.3%, its highest point since Oct. 2021.

For Black women graduate students—especially those pursuing careers in research, education, and public health—these economic shifts are not distant policy matters. They are intimately tied to how they plan their futures, choose career paths, and evaluate the cost of staying in or leaving academia. They must balance academic performance, mental health and financial insecurity in a society that continues to underinvest in their potential.

Despite It All: The Will to Teach, Lead and Resist

Despite systemic obstacles, Black women remain fiercely committed to justice and change. They bring their lived experiences into the classroom, even when institutions fail to recognize or protect them.  

“There are no cheat codes for educational justice,” one educator wrote. “No one can do this work for another.”2

Others found solace in peer communities, affinity groups, and rare mentors who listened, supported, and believed in them. Their persistence is not passive endurance—it is strategic, resilient, and often collective. One student summed it up powerfully:  

“I refuse to give up just because it is hard.”1

What Black Women Graduate Students Need

Based on this cross-study synthesis, Black women in graduate education require:

  • Mentorship and validation that affirms their intellect, labor, and lived experiences.
  • Cultural and structural support in navigating the classroom—especially for those in teaching roles.
  • Culturally competent mental health resources that acknowledge their intersectional struggles.
  • Autonomy in curriculum design to practice transformative pedagogy without fear.
  • Peer and faculty counterspace that buffers against hostile climates and offer community.

What Institutions Must Provide

Universities and departments must move beyond symbolic gestures and:

  • Train and hold faculty accountable for interrupting bias in mentoring, labs and classrooms.
  • Create structural protections for graduate instructors, including fair contracts and recourse for student resistance grounded in racism or sexism.
  • Fund and support affinity spaces for Black graduate women to find belonging and shared purpose.
  • Offer transition support for students moving from HBCUs or other community-oriented spaces.
  • Normalize and prioritize wellness, particularly mental health services grounded in cultural humility.

Conclusion: From Retention to Respect

Retention cannot be the goal if respect is absent. These studies remind us that Black women graduate students are not simply trying to survive academia—they are working to transform it. Institutions must catch up. When Black women say they feel invisible, unsupported, or exhausted, that is not a failure of their resilience. It is an indictment of graduate education’s structures. If universities truly value diversity, they must also value the work, wisdom, and wellbeing of Black women.

And beyond the university, the federal government and funding agencies must acknowledge how their decisions disproportionately impact Black women’s labor, livelihoods, and futures. Whether in classrooms or government offices, Black women deserve not just access—but agency, affirmation, and equity.

References

[1] Joseph, J. (2012). From one culture to another: Years one and two of graduate school for African American women in the STEM fields. International Journal of Doctoral Studies, 7, 125–142.

[2] James, G. A. D., & Turner, F. F. L. (2021). Mobilizing betrayal: Black feminist pedagogy and Black women graduate student educators. Gender, Work & Organization, 28, 24–38. https://doi.org/10.1111/gwao.12554

[3] alexander, e. (2025). As they see it: Black women’s conceptualizations of professional socialization in education graduate programs. Race, Ethnicity & Education, 28(5), 732–751. https://doi.org/10.1080/13613324.2022.2106880

[4] Wilkins-Yel, K. G., Arnold, A., Bekki, J., Natarajan, M., Bernstein, B., & Randall, A. K. (2022). “I can’t push off my own mental health”: Chilly STEM climates, mental health, and STEM persistence among Black, Latina, and White graduate women. Sex Roles, 86(3–4), 208–232. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11199-021-01262-1

U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. (2025, August). Employment status of the civilian population by race, sex, and age. https://www.bls.gov