Marita Golden has spent five decades amplifying Black voices. A lifelong Washingtonian, the author and teacher says coming of age in DC during the civil-rights, Black Power, and women’s movements sparked her commitment to confronting both racism and sexism—a journey she explores in her new memoir, How to Become a Black Writer: Creating and Honoring Black Stories That Matter.
Through her nearly 20 works of fiction and nonfiction, Golden—cofounder of the Hurston/Wright Foundation, which mentors emerging Black writers—has tackled complex issues in the Black community such as colorism and single motherhood. However, in 1968, as a freshman at American University, she wrote a column criticizing a speech by a leader of the Black Panther Party, the organization known for its revolutionary politics and armed resistance against police brutality. She recalls here the unexpected outcome.
“Eldridge Cleaver of the Black Panthers gave this speech at American University where he said Black women should not have sex with Black men until [the men] became Black Panthers. He called it ‘pussy power’—Black women should use their pussy power. Of course, that’s a reference to the Greek play Lysistrata. I thought it was very sexist and wrote a column [in the student paper, the Eagle] criticizing him.
“Politically, I agreed with much of what the Panthers stood for, but as a woman, I felt demeaned. Many women felt demeaned, and because this was a time of increasing emphasis on women’s rights and women’s power, I felt I needed to say something.
“Within a week, the local chapter of the Black Panthers were up on campus looking for me. I didn’t know what they were going to do, but I made myself very scarce. They would ask Black students in the ‘soul corner’ of the cafeteria where I could be found, and nobody knew. Nobody knew what classes I was taking, what job I had on campus—it was just understood that all the Black students would protect me.
“I learned then that there was a price that could be paid for speaking your mind, but it didn’t deter me in any way. After a couple of weeks, they stopped coming to campus and I could resurface.
“But I was afraid. For all their bravado and gun-toting, most of the Panthers’ violence was directed internally or by police against them, yet they did have a reputation of taking retribution against Black people who were critical of them.
“A lot of times when you’re young, you do things [without fully understanding their seriousness], which is good because young people take risks that older people, who have something to lose, don’t. I felt fear for my physical safety. At the same time, I felt [a sense of pride]: ‘Now I’m a real journalist. Boy, I’ve been threatened. I’m a real writer.’ ”
This article appears in the March 2025 issue of Washingtonian.
Before becoming Research Editor, Damare Baker was an Editorial Fellow and Assistant Editor for Washingtonian. She has previously written for Voice of America and The Hill. She is a graduate of Georgetown University, where she studied international relations, Korean, and journalism.
