Tech Bros Are White, Progressives Afraid, But Black Women Public Interest Tech Leaders Are Brave

“I feel like I am breaking right now, one crispy flake from falling apart.”

I wrote this in my journal last year upon hearing that a $11.9 million federal grant for the #BlackTechFutures Research Institute was canceled because the Trump Administration stated, and the U.S. Supreme Court later confirmed, that my grant was unconstitutional because it only supported Black Americans. I was devastated, and deeply heartbroken. This grant was to be my love letter to the futuristic souls of Black People. It was going to help operationalize my decade-long theory that strengthening local Black Tech Ecosystems in Black southern and rural communities can combat the commodification and erasure of Black bodies living in and among smart machines. The grant was an opportunity to build real flesh and blood Wakanda-like cities. To say the least, I dreamed expansively only to be met with white nationalistic hatred of my Black skin.

I was undone.

To add salt to my wound, a hateful conservative news article arguing that the federal grants awarded to three Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) organizations including mine were racially motivated and therefore unconstitutional began to circulate online, including via a progressive “ally” who thoughtlessly amplified it across their networks. This landed us on a tracking list of Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency’s (DOGE) for progressive and BIPOC organizations. Frantically, we removed personal details from our website and social media to ensure the safety of our staff and Board members. The original hurt of the rescinded grant paled in comparison to how I felt about the vagrant carelessness of this white-led supposedly allied organization who did not stop to consider how their actions would affect Black and Brown awardees.

I was enraged.

Then, in meetings that were held in-person, on the phone, and over Zoom, our progressive multi-billion dollar public interest tech foundations would immediately say breathlessly say how sorry they were, before adding, “We can’t replace the funds that were taken from you,” and “Can you join a call to help us develop a new funding strategy to address the Trump’s regime tech oligarchy?” In a moment where I am, literally, treading water to survive, the request of “help” from organizations whose dividends are the gross domestic products of many countries was beyond inconsiderate.

I was speechless.

The emotional distress from this series of events was so great it took a toll on my body. I developed Shingles. One side of my face froze. I spent the majority of last year weeping uncontrollably in public meetings or feeling exhausted by the invisible weight of having to pretend I wasn’t falling apart at the shallow edges of white and progressive allyship.

These experiences confirm that the hallowed fields of public interest technology, digital equity, responsible computing, public AI, responsible AI, and just tech—are financially, emotionally, and spiritually incapable of supporting Black Women Public Interest Technologists. The field of public interest technology will invest in and highlight the courageous stances that Black women like Dr. Timnit Gebru and Dr. Joy Buolamwini take against tech companies as a solution to the anti-democratic bro-dom of Silicon Valley, but is hard pressed to develop any “sustained strategy” to support Black women public interest tech leaders unless it is in a moment of highly visible moral panic.

In the past and present, Black women have put themselves in harm’s way to build (and vote for) just, reparative, and liberating democratic futures for our country. For instance, Black women vote consistently for democracy in our country (e.g. 90 percent for Harris, 7% for Trump in 2024), and, yet, there was no national solution in 2025, when nearly 300,000 plus Black women lost their jobs or when DOGE cuts overwhelmingly impacted Black women federal workers. Where was the response? Black women build for all, like Brenda Darden Wilkerson who built the national educational infrastructure for Computer Science for All before it was adopted by the Obama administration as a national strategy, and then went on to lead the largest convening of women technologists in the world, AnitaB.org. A month before this year’s conference was due to take place on October 27, the organization announced its cancellation due to a lack of funding. Where was the funding for Brenda, a Black woman who has prophetically dreamed futures for all women?

The uncomfortable truth is that Black women can build a vision of freedom for everyone, but when they need help finding a job, securing funding for their work, or getting protection from online racist trolls who hate Black women, support is elusive, if not non-existent.

Why must Black women be on the edge of the “glass cliff” or at the edge of the silicon mountain before help is given? Why does the field of public interest technology — created to study, design, deploy, and govern technology to serve the common good, advance social justice, and protect the public interest — not do more to support Black women who before DOGE cuts were the cornerstone stewards of our national public interest infrastructure? Why isn’t there a multi-million dollar-pooled fund, like Humanity AI, set up specifically to grant the dreams and protections of Black women public interest tech leaders like Tawanna Petty of Petty Propolis in Detroit, Meme Styles of Measure in Austin, Dr. Nashlie Sephus of the BeanPath in Jackson, Sabrina Short of Black Tech NOLA in New Orleans, Rev. Dr. Melva Sampson of Pink Robe Chronicles in Winston-Salem, Lena Winfree and Holly Rachel of LocalTek Foundation in Nashville, Rev. Dr. Irie Lynne Session of Sanctified Code in Dallas, Rev. Naomi Jordan Cook of Virtual Consulting Group in Atlanta, Rev. Dr. Stacey Dandridge of The Digital Church in Memphis, Jess Moore Matthews of Backbone Digital Leaders in New York, and Pam Price of the Balm in Gilead in every southern state, since they are on the front lines in cities battling tech companies?

Why does the field and adjacent fields (e.g. digital equity, responsible computing, public AI, responsible AI, and simply tech itself) continuously miss the opportunity to support Black women dreaming in this space? I can share countless stories, such as how I was turned down for the inaugural Just Tech fellowship because ‘there were too many Black women finalists’. Or, how flatly my suggestion that Historically Black Colleagues and Universities (HBCUs) could be harbingers of public interest tech was dismissed ten years ago by a prominent foundation, when this is exactly what is being advocated for today. The passive support, lack of forethought, and constant lack of imagination from progressive organizations and foundations on how to truly support Black women contributes to the collective burnout Black women are currently experiencing under the backlash of a government that knows Black women will defend their freedom and everyone’s.

What I am left with is a line from Black feminist poet and playwright Ntozake Shange’s iconic choral play, for colored girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf:

“Somebody/anybody sing a black girl’s song”

Though we lack sustained capital to share with each other, given the intersectionality of oppressions obstructing networks of capital, Black women possess a relational spiritual-like capital, a sisterhood. When crumbling pieces of me fell like shattered glass upon the floor in response to white supremacy “stealing” of my dream—my $11.9 million federal grant—for “My People” as uttered by Chicago Black Renaissance poet, Margaret Walker, I became like generations of Black women in Alice Walker’s In Search of My Mother’s Garden, an artist without a medium to create. And I went mad. As I lay there at their feet, it was other Black women who scooped up the shards of me, melted them down, and reconstructed my dignity and divinity. They helped me through my brokenness. Women like Michele Jawando who speak my name in rooms I am not in. Women like Jasmine Thomas who prayed for me when she heard me quietly weeping over the phone. Women like Dr. Ruha Benjamin, Dr. Safiya Noble, and Dr. Timnit Gebru who all support my dreams. Women like Rev. Dr. Renita Weems who sobers my spine with her very firm affirmations. Women like Eloise Alexis, Dr. Desiree Pedescleaux, Rev. Dr. Aliya Brown, and Cemeré James who harboured me on their plush couches and memory foam beds so I could sleep undisturbed for hours and days. Women like Ananda Leeke, Shannon Freeman, Allessandra Bradley-Burns, Tequila Johnson, Ashley Northington, Dr. Erika Gault, Dr. Mmaki Jantjies, Meme Styles, Jenita Lawal, Rev. Traci Blackmon, Ayori Selassie, and Tirra Hargrow who all fitfully encouraged me to take time off and rest my overly functioning nervous system before I headed towards a stroke.

Black women saved my life.

Black women stay, saving the lives of each other. Historically, with the emergence of Black feminism, in 1977, the Combahee River Collective stated, “Our politics initially sprang from the shared belief that Black women are inherently valuable ... we realize that the only people who care enough about us to work consistently for our liberation are us”. Yes, Black women give each other emotional and spiritual support, but this does not negate the need for funding or other protections. It does not mean that toxicity never surfaces in Black women relationships. And yet, Black women's solidarity, joy, creativity, and collective care are the most precious resources that I and other Black women can tap into where we imagine ourselves both fully human and divine.

After several months of rest and healing, I find myself thinking more about the human divineness of Black women and Black women public interest tech leaders, specifically. Human divineness, not as a static essentialized archetype or as a reversal of the Strong Black Woman stereotype, but as beings who do both extraordinary and very mundane things to give themselves joy, such as Dr. Safiya Noble’s stand up comedy performances, Tananarive Due broadcasting herself learning to tap dance at 60 years old, or even me reading to children every Sunday as, “The Dark Ms. Frizzle.” In deep reflection, I know the future of building a thriving national and diasporic Black Tech Ecosystem and a better public interest technology discipline in general, will require bringing Black women public interest tech leaders together to rest, heal, and to share in each other’s joy. I have always believed in the power of Black women gatherings to support mental health and allow space for critical truths to be heard, and have created countless Black women convenings, from my early Black feminist anti-violence work to hosting a dinner for nearly 60 Black women public interest tech leaders during the 2025 Mozfest in Barcelona.

Black women honor my divinity.

The title of this article is a reimagining of the 1982 book All the Women are White and All the Men are Black But Some of Us are Brave: Black Women’s Studies co-edited by Akasha Gloria Hull, Patricia Bell-Scott, and Barbara Smith. This book heralded Black feminist thought. It foretold the challenges and opportunities that Black women navigate given their gender, race, class, and sexuality. It was the academic teething ring for my emergence as a Black feminist scholar at the HBCU Spelman College’s Women Resource Center where Black feminist foremothers, Dr. Beverly Guy-Sheftall, bell hooks, and many others taught us about waves of feminism. This book and countless other Black feminist books helped me to see the realities, illusions, and stories of Black women and girls.

Given the sustained, ‘soul murdering,’ attacks on Black women’s employment, federal grants, mental health and leadership, my call to action to the fields of public interest tech, Just Tech, digital equity, responsible computing, public AI, responsible AI and to progressive philanthropic foundations is to invest delusionally into Black women organizations and Black women-led organizations like AnitaB.org. I use the word delusional to combat the normal, and often very small investments we tend to give to Black women organizations (e.g. just 0.5% of overall foundation giving go to women and girls of color organizations, and nearly 40% of Black women-led organizations operate with annual revenue under $50,000 compared to just 16% of organizations led by white women).

Delusional funding strips away internalized stereotypes (e.g. Strong Black Woman = She doesn’t need funding; or Welfare Queen = She will mismanage our funds) that we, may unknowing, hold against Black women. I want non-dilutive, non-restrictive, and delusional funding given to organizations that serve Black Southern women and girl communities such as Southern Black Girls and Women’s Consortium founded by the voting rights activists, LaTosha Brown. I want Spelman College’s Center for Excellence for Black Women in STEM led by Dr. Natasha McClendon to receive endowed funds to support in perpetuity Black women visiting scholars in STEM and Public Interest Technology and to provide fully paid year-long “rest” sabbaticals for Black women scholars and practitioners in the US and the larger African Diaspora.

I want delusional irrational funds that competitively pay and match brilliant Black women public interest tech leaders, like Dr. Chinasa Okolo, Dr. Afua Bruce, Oneisha Freeman, Pearl Amanfu, Erin Reddick, Danielle Davis, Michaela Henley, and Lyrric Jackson with Black women elected leaders like the newly elected first Black women governors, Governor Keisha Lance Bottoms of Georgia and Stacey Plaskett of US Virgin Islands, and representatives like Congresswoman Yvette Clark of New York who serves as a high ranking member of the Energy and Commerce Committee to build a policy-rich liberating public interest tech future for all.

I want delusional aligned funds to create a bi-annual week-long luxurious dream-like retreat for Black women public interest tech leaders and for Black women-led research centers such as Dr. Fay Cobb Payton’s Institute for Data, Research, and Innovation in Sciences, Dr. Brittney Cooper’s Race and Gender Equity (RAGE) Lab, Dr. Latanya Sweeney’s Technizen Institute, Dr. Nicol Turner Lee’s Center for Technology Innovation, Dr. Nettrice Gaskins’ STEAM Learning Lab, Dr. Erin Lynch’s QEM, Dr. Moya Bailey’s Digital Apothecary, Dr. Danielle Wood’s Space Enabled Lab, Dr. Catherine Knight Steele’s Black Communication and Technology Lab, Dr. Jamika Burge’s BlackComputeHER, Dr. Glenance Green’s Black Researchers Collective, Andreen Soley’s Public Interest Technology Univerity Network, Dr. Timnit Gebru’s DAIR, Dr. Joy Buolamwini’s Algorithmic Justice League, Dr. Safiya Noble’s Center on Race and Digital Justice, Dr. Alondra Nelson’s Science, Technology, and Social Values Lab at the Institute for Advanced Study, Dr. Ruha Benjamin’s the Ida B. Wells JUST Data Lab, Dela Wilson’s Hope Gap XR Lab, and my organization, Black Tech Futures Research Institute. Overall, create a pooled fund specifically to support the dreams, aspirations, joys, and retreat-like convenings of Black women public interest technologists, because if Black women are cared for then our democracy is protected.

As I lay my pen down, reflecting on how yet again Black women defended our democracy in the 2026 Midterms in Texas and Georgia with their votes. Like my ancestors before me, I know that “it is well with my soul,” for I have shared the truth on how to build a freedom-based public interest tech future that honors the souls of Black women and girls. Ashe.