It takes a village: The power of collective mothering in Black communities

Photo by LaShawn Dobbs on Unsplash

In Black communities, the act of mothering has always extended beyond biology. It is a practice rooted in care, protection, and collective responsibility — a radical form of love that emerges not just from family ties, but from communal bonds. This broader, deeply rooted tradition is known as “othermothering,” a term that captures the vast and interconnected ways Black women and femmes nurture, guide, and sustain their communities.

Othermothering

As sociologist Patricia Hill Collins notes in Reconceiving Motherhood, othermothering is “a system of care and support by which Black women assume the responsibility of childrearing for children who are not biologically their own.” It’s a practice that challenges dominant, Eurocentric notions of the nuclear family, instead embracing a more communal, expansive vision of kinship. Within this framework, grandmothers, aunts, older siblings, neighbors, church elders, and chosen family step in — not as exceptions, but as an expected and celebrated part of child-raising and cultural transmission.

The roots of othermothering in Black communities trace back to the brutal realities of enslavement, when the separation of families was not an exception but a condition of survival. Enslaved Black women were often denied the right to mother their own children, their familial bonds violently severed by sale, punishment, or death. In response to this forced fragmentation, they forged new forms of kinship and care — raising not only their biological children when possible, but also the children of others, creating expansive networks of protection and nurturing. 

Othermothering was not merely a cultural preference; it was a survival strategy, a form of quiet resistance against the dehumanization of slavery, and a declaration that Black children — all of them — were worthy of love, guidance, and a future. This practice laid the foundation for generations of collective care that continue to shape Black life today.

Mothering as a political act

This model of mothering isn’t simply about filling gaps in parental care. It is a political act — one forged out of necessity and resistance. Systemic barriers such as economic injustice, mass incarceration, and racialized violence have often disrupted traditional family structures in Black communities. In response, Black women have innovated, forming resilient systems of care that ensure children are still held, nurtured, and protected.

Social justice activist, public speaker, and author Rachel Cargle describes her own experience with othermothering as both emotional and practical — a type of mothering that is “not only about bearing children, but about bearing witness to others.” In her words, to othermother is to show up, to pour into, to model possibility. It is to be a protector and provider of Black futures — often without recognition, yet always with purpose.

Throughout history, othermothers have been at the heart of Black resistance movements. They are the ones who opened their homes to feed neighbors’ children during the civil rights era, who mentored youth in the absence of resources, who organized around care when systems failed to do so. The Journal of African American Women and Girls in Education documents how Black women educators, mentors, and community leaders embody this ethos daily, challenging systemic inequities through acts of deep relational care.

Today, in a world that continues to devalue Black motherhood and misrecognize Black caregiving, othermothering remains a radical act. It affirms that Black love — especially in its most expansive forms — is a force of survival and imagination. It says: we will care for each other. We will raise each other. We will mother each other into wholeness.

As we continue to celebrate all forms of mothering, let us honor the othermothers — the aunties, the godmamas, the teachers, the organizers, the neighbors, and the friends who have shaped our lives with fierce, boundless care. They are the blueprint. They are the village. They are the reason we are still here.