News Articles, 1995-1997
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Books and Bonding

At D.C. Bookstore, Black Women Find Haven of Literature and Sisterhood

By DeNeen L. Brown
Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, March 18 1997; Page B01
The Washington Post

You should have seen how some of those women came into the clothing consignment shop trying to squeeze into those dresses -- burdens, joys and all.

Some women talked about getting a job, and some talked about hating their jobs. Single women wrestled over raising boys. Women with coffee-colored skin talked about being too dark to wear red. And some women wondered why they were gaining weight or not sleeping at night.

Day after day, customers came to Cassandra's Consignment Boutique on U Street NW. And day after day, shop owner Cassandra Burton and shop volunteer Faye Williams would listen to their problems and their triumphs.

"The conversations went like this: `Oh girl, I'm going to get this dress because I don't know what my man is doing these days. Maybe this will bowl him over,' " Burton recalled. "Then the same women would come back, and the next thing you knew they would be abused."

Eventually, Burton and Williams pushed the dress racks to the side and made a space for women to talk about their issues. They couldn't just let the women walk out of the store with a new dress and the same old burden. That was how Sisterspace and Books, a bookstore on U Street NW that offers books for, by and about African American women, was born.

Sisterspace was opened two years ago in the 1300 block of U Street NW with the intention of providing a safe place and space to which black women -- poor, rich and those just making ends meet -- could come to discuss all the troubles and joys women carry: children, work, racism, sexism, food, health, finances, feminism, mental health, spirituality, intimacy, men, women, mothers, fathers, writing, reading, weight, fashion, addictions and investments.

"This is more than a bookstore," Williams said. "We use books to attract women here. We could make more money selling books on the street corner. But this bookstore is needed in this community. This is where people come to connect. . . . Literacy has always been a key to liberation for black people. If they were going to make a law that said black people can't read, then the first place we should go is to the books."

Burton's consignment boutique occupied one of the rooms that is now the bookstore. That's where Williams got the idea to open Sisterspace and Books. During a discussion about dreams, Williams announced she had dreamed of opening a bookstore that could serve as a meeting place.

"When I put that out there, 12 sisters clapped, and I thought, `Oh, they have the same dream.' " With no money and little idea about how to open a bookstore, she started making calls to publishers.

After dozens of calls, she finally connected with a man at Random House, who decided to give her credit. Since then, other big and small publishing houses have joined in, and the store has been well stocked with books, cards, posters and tapes.

Burton and Williams also started a newsletter and a discussion series for women of African descent in the area. They ordained April as African American Women's Month. Next month, the bookstore is sponsoring an African American women writers' conference at Howard University.

Sandra Jones, a volunteer at the store, says: "African American women, we take care of everyone else first, and we take care of ourselves last. What we are trying to do here at Sisterspace is to encourage sisters to take care of themselves. When we are healthy physically, mentally and spiritually, then we're better able to care for those we love."

The bookstore has become more like what used to be the general store in small communities. Women -- from executives to professors to those who are living in a shelter up the street -- climb the three floors above U Street to get to the bookstore. Once there, they may or may not buy a book. They come for discussions on topics scheduled for the "In Her Light" series, which includes talks on opening a business, spirituality, healing, exercise, stress management and self-esteem.

Recently, a group of men, who demanded that men not be excluded from the space, has started meeting there. The bookstore also has become a popular stop for writers, who come for readings.

On a recent night, a group of women sat on the edge of their seats as author Julia A. Boyd read from her book, "Embracing the Fire," and defined love and how to find self-respect.

As the women talked, Williams stood in the back of the room watching them and watching pieces of her dream come together. It didn't happen all at once, but slowly.

A beautiful, brown-skinned woman sitting elegantly cross-legged on the floor raised her hand: "I want to know whether . . . a relationship has a chance when one person in the relationship is not physically moved by the other." Translation: Her boyfriend is wonderful, but he's overweight.

Another woman with a short Afro asked, "Can I get two minutes of free therapy? Are relationships better in your thirties? . . . I wasn't one of those fly girls in my twenties, and I missed something. Why wasn't I fly at 25?"

A woman in dark blue knit wanted to know what to do about "dating someone who dated someone I know, but he doesn't know I know. But I know what he did."

The women lingered long after Boyd had finished reading and had moved to the next room to sign books. Near the bookshelf holding such titles as "How to Find and Keep a Black Man Working," seven women tried to help the one who was unsure about the importance of physical attraction.

"Twenty years from now, a gorgeous guy will be average," one woman offered. "But we all have our own deal-breakers. You have to figure out, is this a deal-breaker?"

"I was married to someone I wasn't physically attracted to," said a woman with a tan hat tipped to the side. "That didn't work. Now, I know you need both."

"I ask people about it, and they say they want rockets flying," the beautiful woman said.

The woman with the Afro picked up on that phrase: "Girl, I want to feel like I'm working at NASA. We ought to get together, and you can save your $90 on therapy."

The group of women, who had not known each other before that night, made plans to meet for Sunday brunch.

"Can we have strawberry shortcake?" one woman asked.

"Yes, and I'll bring the buffalo wings. And we'll play Heavy D for her -- `Overweight lover in the house.' "

They all laughed. And as the women wrote down each other's numbers and the night faded, Williams measured the success of the reading.

"This," she said, "is the real meeting."

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