The July/August 2018 edition of The Humanist Magazine featured a collection of article about five Black women humanists who describe how their nonbelief is inseparable from activism, feminism, and social justice. We want to use the BHNBS space to reshare the historical article, because it’s just as important today as it was eight years ago. You can read it directly here, or read a summary of it below.
The section opens with an introduction explaining that Black women have long been central to Black religious life and have also played a major role in building the modern Black freethought movement. The introduction emphasizes that Black women have helped establish local and national secular organizations, broadened ideas about humanism, and shown that feminism is a core part of humanist thought. It closes by framing their work as part of a wider commitment to social justice in everyday life.
Candace R. M. Gorham’s section focuses on the way leaving religion sharpened her commitment to community care and activism. She describes how, once she embraced humanism, she could no longer rely on the idea that God would solve human suffering. Instead, she felt compelled to act herself. Her concern for Black women, incarcerated Black people, and overpoliced communities intensified after separating from religion. Gorham says she originally saw herself as a researcher and author rather than an activist, but came to accept that she has “the heart of an activist.” Her biography notes that she is a licensed professional counselor, former evangelical minister, and founder of the The Ebony Exodus Project (a BHNBS book club selection) which examined why many Black women leave the church.
Sikivu Hutchinson’s section presents humanism as a framework for confronting racism, sexism, sexual violence, and inequality. She describes leading sexual violence and harassment peer education trainings in South Los Angeles high schools, working with youth across genders and sexualities, and addressing rape culture, victim blaming, and toxic masculinity from an intersectional perspective. Hutchinson argues that mainstream understandings of humanism are often filtered through a white, Eurocentric lens and that true humanist work must include opposition to white supremacy, apartheid, patriarchy, and wealth inequality. She connects her activism to a long tradition of Black feminist resistance and says that humanist struggle is not only about rejecting religious dogma but also about dismantling systems that harm Black communities. Her biography identifies her as the founder of the Women’s Leadership Project and Black Skeptics Los Angeles, and the author of several works.
Liz Ross’s section centers on how atheism helped her reject religiously reinforced oppression and embrace broader social justice commitments. She says she became an atheist while questioning suffering and recognizing the role of white supremacy, patriarchy, and anti-LGBTQ sentiment in both religion and culture. She explains that secular humanism, for her, means critical thinking, compassion, and empathy, and that her motivation for change comes from within rather than from a higher power. Ross has spent over twenty years involved in social justice work, has been active with Black Skeptics Los Angeles since 2012, and now focuses on human and animal rights, food justice, sustainability, and the harms of the current food system. She argues that food sovereignty and food security are connected to anti-racism, workers’ rights, nonviolence, environmental sustainability, and justice for animals. Her biography notes that she co-founded the Vegan Advocacy Initiative and remains active in Black Skeptics Los Angeles.
Bridgett Crutchfield’s section is more personal and defiant in tone, emphasizing voice, boldness, and refusal to be silenced by patriarchy. She identifies herself as lesbian, atheist, humanist, non-rich, and middle aged, saying these identities compel her to speak out. She recalls childhood moments of standing up to disrespect, especially in defense of her mother, and connects that early protectiveness to her current disappointment with selective or inconsistent humanism. For her, caring deeply about communities is painful but necessary. She says walking away is not an option and that her voice is part of a larger collective struggle for spirit, war, equality, and justice. Her biography notes that she was raised Jehovah’s Witness, later became an atheist, founded Minority Atheists of Michigan, and established the Detroit affiliate of Black Nonbelievers.
Mandisa Thomas’s section ties humanism directly to fairness, inclusion, and building community for Black atheists. She describes Black Nonbelievers’ mission as helping people who are marginalized or misrepresented and says the organization’s work naturally includes social justice, humanism, feminism, and intersectionality. She highlights the importance of visibility and support for Black atheists, especially women and LGBTQ people, within communities shaped by religious marginalization. Thomas explains that the goal is not to “save” people but to help them realize their own power and ability to grow beyond what they have been taught. Her biography identifies her as the founder and president of Black Nonbelievers, Inc., and notes her appearances in major media.
Taken together, the magazine presents Black humanism as a lived practice rooted in community care, resistance to oppression, and commitment to liberation. Each woman describes nonbelief not as isolation from the world, but as a reason to engage it more fully. Their stories show how Black feminist thought, secular activism, and humanist values overlap in efforts to challenge racism, sexism, homophobia, poverty, violence, and inequality.
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