Why
Black Breastfeeding Week Is Important
For many families across the
nation, the end of August marks the end to the long lazy bubbly days of summer
and a return to regimented schedules and academic pursuits. It also marks the start of Black
Breastfeeding Week- August 25-31. Black Breastfeeding Week was created last
year by three African-American breastfeeding advocates; Kimberly Seals Allers,
a journalist and author of the Mocha Mom Manuals, Kiddada Green, founder of the
Black Mothers Breastfeeding Association, and Anayah Sangodele-Ayoka, co-author
of “Free to Breastfeed; Voices of Black Mothers” These three ‘titans of lactation’ saw the
need to celebrate African-American mothers in their choice to breastfeed their
babies, and launched a nation-wide promotion.
Black Breastfeeding Week was
born with great fanfare, and great backlash. Many demanded to know why Black
women should get their own ‘breastfeeding week.’ What many don’t know and
understand the dismal landscape for
breastfeeding in the African-American community. According to the Centers for Disease Control,
from 2004–2008, (latest data available) the percentage of women who initiated
breastfeeding was74.3%for Whites, 54.4% for Blacks and 80.4% for Latinas. (http://www.cdc.gov/mmwr/preview/mmwrhtml/mm5911a2.htm)
While the number of women who elect to breastfeed their babies has increased in
recent years, the disparity between White mothers and Black mothers still
persist. These numbers indicate a need
for greater social, familial and healthcare provider supports, especially for
African-American women.
I am an Internationally
Board Certified Lactation Consultant, and a woman of color. I run a free community-based breastfeeding
clinic in the urban core of my city. I
work daily in the trenches with African-American mothers who want to breastfeed
their babies but find it difficult to connect with community resources without
extraordinary effort on their part. Some women are fortunate to be able to access
breastfeeding assistance with relative ease.
Some women have support groups right in their own neighborhoods. Some women can afford to pay professionals
to come to their homes and provide guidance and instruction. This does not describe the women I work
with. The women I serve, mostly
African-American, often live at or below poverty level. They may be generationally impoverished, or
situationally impoverished but one thing is for certain- all this access to
breastfeeding help that health care professionals deem imperative to
breastfeeding success is not accessible to them.
The women I serve don't have
easy access to breastfeeding support groups, except perhaps at their local
hospital. But even those are not without
challenges. The women I work with tell
me (because I always ask) that they may go their entire hospital stay without
anyone mentioning breastfeeding; that their babies are given bottles of formula
without their knowledge or consent; and that nurses actively discourage them
from breastfeeding. Among professionals, we call this 'provider bias.' It is rampant in healthcare. Physicians, nurses, even IBCLCs don't help
because they either a) don't believe African-American women will breastfeed
their babies, or they b) don't believe these women will be successful at it. It
is also because health care providers may lack proper knowledge about
delivering care in a way that is culturally appropriate and acceptable. For
example, talking to an African-American woman about breastfeeding without
drawing her partner or mother into the conversation could be a problem. Knowing and understanding who her champions
are and engaging them in the process is
vital.
For the brave few new
mothers that garner the courage to
venture outside their communities to find help and support they so desperately
need, they may or may not find
acceptance waiting for them when they get there. Last month on the ‘Black Women Do Breastfeed’
Facebook page, an African-American woman shared how she got up the courage to
attend a meeting in another community, and while she was there, no one spoke to
her or acknowledged her presence. -I
know what you're thinking, that would never happen in “our” neighborhood,
right? Perhaps it wouldn't. -But look
around at your breastfeeding support groups.
How diverse are they? -How
comfortable would you feel in a gathering if the racial mix was reversed?
African-American women have
yet to find a place for themselves in the breastfeeding landscape. That's where Black Breastfeeding Week comes
in. We are actively creating a space for
ourselves by declaring our own stake in breastfeeding, holding our own private
celebration. The Facebook page and
website engages women from around the country all year long with local and
national events, updates, and articles, videos and other educational materials. African-American women can send in their
breastfeeding photos and have them posted.
They may not see breastfeeding images of themselves in the media
otherwise. How does this week work across the nation? It's imperative to
promote breastfeeding in the African-American community so that mothers and
babies can share in the many short and long term health benefits. Black Breastfeeding Week is here to stay to
show African-American women that breastfeeding is for them and their babies.
Black Breastfeeding Week is important because we need to help all women become
successful in meeting their breastfeeding goals and too many of us, have been
left out of the picture.
