The Pressure of #BlackExcellence: Balancing Celebration and Humanity
How I’ve struggled with unrealistic expectations
I’ve always felt uneasy about #BlackExcellence. On the surface, it’s a beautiful idea—a celebration of the achievements and resilience of Black people. It feels good to see my community uplifted and praised in a world that often devalues us. But as much as I’ve tried to embrace it, I can’t ignore the pressure it creates. It’s not just about celebrating success; it’s about expecting perfection.
I’ve felt like this hashtag turns us into something inhuman. It doesn’t just demand excellence—it demands that we be superhuman. And the reality is, when we don’t live up to that impossible standard, it feels like we’re cast aside, like our lives only matter if we’re extraordinary.
I understand why #BlackExcellence exists. It’s a response to centuries of racism, an effort to rewrite the narrative about who we are and what we can achieve. Seeing stories of Black inventors, entrepreneurs, artists, and activists succeeding against the odds fills me with pride. It reminds me of our brilliance and our contributions to the world.
But at the same time, #BlackExcellence can feel suffocating. I’ve felt the weight of its expectations in my own life. It’s like there’s no room to just be—just to exist as a flawed, imperfect person. If I’m not excelling, I feel invisible. And worse, when Black people fall short of this standard—when they’re not "excellent"—society often treats them as if they’re unworthy of basic empathy or respect.
I’ve seen this play out in how the world reacts to tragedy. When a Black person is involved in something negative, their humanity is erased. People cheer for their downfall or justify their mistreatment, as if being Black and imperfect means you don’t deserve compassion. On the other hand, when a white person does something terrible—like a mass shooting—their flaws are often reframed as symptoms of mental illness or personal struggle. They’re given layers of nuance and understanding that Black people are rarely afforded.
When I think about #BlackExcellence, I can’t help but draw parallels to the "Magical Negro" trope in books and films. Characters like John Coffey in The Green Mile or Oda Mae Brown in Ghost remind me of how Black people are often portrayed as extraordinary—but only in ways that serve others. These characters are wise, selfless, and even mystical, but they’re not fully human. They’re tools for someone else’s story, not protagonists in their own right.
This trope is harmful because it mirrors the way I’ve seen society treat Black people in real life. It feels like we’re only valued when we’re helping others, teaching others, or proving our worth through our excellence. There’s no space for us to be average or to prioritize ourselves.
The pressure to constantly prove my worth is exhausting. Striving for perfection leaves little room for vulnerability, mistakes, or even rest. I’ve seen how this impacts not just me, but others in my community. The constant drive to meet these impossible expectations leads to stress, anxiety, burnout and for me suicidal thoughts.
What’s worse is the fear of what happens when we falter. Society seems ready to write us off if we don’t perform. It’s terrifying to think that mediocrity—or even failure—could make me invisible or disposable in the eyes of the world.
I believe we need to move beyond #BlackExcellence. We need a narrative that makes room for all of us, whether we’re thriving or simply surviving. I want a world where Black kids don’t feel like they have to be the best at everything just to matter. I want a world where we’re allowed to fail, to rest, and to just be.
#BlackExcellence has its place—it’s a powerful reminder of our strength and resilience. But it’s not enough. We need a broader vision of what it means to be Black. One that includes the extraordinary and the ordinary. One that celebrates not just what we do, but who we are.
Because at the end of the day, our humanity isn’t something we should have to earn. It’s something we already have. And that should be enough.
