Falling In Love With Black California

A Story of Community, Identity, and Collective Strength

By Phyllis Bowman

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Today, I find myself falling in love with Black California all over again, not because everything is perfect, but because I am happy to see women across this state continuing the tradition of lifting one another up and sounding their voices about who we are. More women are building businesses and getting into the entrepreneur space. Our women educators are using their voice to shape future generations, and I see advocates fighting for equitable policies. Mothers, daughters, sisters, mentors, and leaders are creating spaces where black women can be seen, heard, and valued, and this is the California we must continue to build.

I am a California native, born and raised in Los Angeles. Like many Black women growing up during my generation, I did not know exactly what the future would hold for me, but I was always hopeful that I could make a meaningful mark to encourage someone else. My parents taught me to work hard, and they told me to give my best in everything I did. They encouraged me and said, “never let my circumstances define my possibilities”. Those words gave me hope, and I believed I could accomplish whatever I was in pursuit of.

Growing up in a household with eight children was not always easy. There was only one income supporting the family, and there was not an abundance of material things. My parents did everything they could, but there were moments when older siblings stepped in to help raise the younger ones because Mom and Dad were busy making sure there was food on the table and a roof over our heads.

As a child, I thought those challenges were unique to my family. As I got older, I realized that they were the same experiences for many Black families in our neighborhood. Yet what stands out most in my memory is not what we lacked, it was the life lessons we were taught. We were taught  to be grateful, because no matter what, we had each other.

I remember how my mother and our neighbors leaned on one another without hesitation. If someone needed help, the answer was rarely "no." People would look out for each other because they understood that community was not just a place, it was a collective responsibility. We celebrated together, mourned together, solved problems together, and the adults raised their children together.  

One of my fondest memories of growing up in Los Angeles was attending Alain Leroy Locke High School in the Watts community.

To the outside world, people often focused on the neighborhood's challenges, but those of us who lived there knew otherwise, it was our hood filled with excellence, pride, talent, and opportunity. Locke High School puts you in the mind of a Historically Black College and University, because there is something special about growing up surrounded by people who look like you, believe in you, and we were surrounded by people who reminded us often that our life mattered. 

The school was alive with energy. Our marching band and drill team were phenomenal. Our athletic programs inspired school pride, and our Science and English departments were among the strongest in the Los Angeles Unified School District, even though it was not always recognized as such. 

I had a lot of school spirit so I got involved in everything I could. I served as Student Body First Vice President, Editor-in-Chief of The Saints Courier school newspaper, a Varsity Cheerleader, a member of Girls League, and competed in track and field.

This reflection made me realize that those experiences did more than fill my schedule, they shaped my confidence. They taught me how to lead. They taught me how to communicate. They taught me how to serve. Most importantly, they taught me what was possible when a community believes in its young people.

I feel safe in saying that this is where I fell in love with Black California.

No matter what challenges we faced at home, when we walked onto our campus, we became part of something bigger than ourselves. We cheered for one another. We celebrated each other's accomplishments. When it came time to compete, whether academically, athletically, artistically, or through student leadership, we competed as one.

There was an understanding that our individual success reflected our collective strength. That feeling is difficult to describe unless you have experienced it because it wasn't just school spirit, it was a black experience. It was belonging.

Every August, I return to Locke High School for our Alumni Picnic. More than four decades after graduation, that same spirit still exists. The laughter sounds familiar. The friendships remain genuine. The pride in our school has not faded.

When I stand among classmates after 44 years, I am reminded that true community and friendships don’t disappear with time. It evolves, but its roots remain strong. That reunion is proof that a feeling of belonging is necessary.

At the California Black Women's Collective Empowerment Institute, we believe our stories matter because they shape the future. When we tell stories like these, we preserve the history of Black California through lived experience, not just statistics or headlines. We remind younger generations that our communities have always been places of resilience, brilliance, leadership, and love.

The neighborhoods that raised us deserve to be remembered for the dreams they nurtured as much as the struggles they presented. The schools that believed in us deserve recognition for producing generations of leaders. The women who borrowed sugar, watched each other's children, encouraged us, and prayed for us deserve to be celebrated as community builders long before anyone gave that work a title.

At CABWCEI, we are committed to preserving this legacy while creating new opportunities for Black women to lead, thrive, and transform their communities. Every program we offer, every conversation we host, every partnership we build, and every woman we empower contributes to a stronger, more connected Black California, because when Black women come together, we don't just strengthen ourselves. We strengthen families. We strengthen neighborhoods. We strengthen California, and to me, that is what falling in love with Black California is about.