Guest post by The Wind on Her Tongue author Anita Kopacz
Anita Kopacz is an award-winning writer and spiritual advisor. She is the former editor in chief of Heart & Soul Magazine and managing editor of BeautyCents Magazine. When she is not writing, you can find her on the dance floor or traveling the world with her children. Anita lives in New York City with her family. She is the author of Shallow Waters and The Wind on Her Tongue.
About The Wind on Her Tongue (Out January 21st): In this lyrical and stirring companion to the “spellbinding” (Harper’s Bazaar) Shallow Waters, Oya—the Yoruban deity of the weather—is brought to life during 1870s America. Perfect for fans of Children of Blood and Bone and Black Sun.
Hurricanes are born on the western coast of Africa. There, warm winds gather over the ocean, fueled by heat and moisture, creating a force that travels across the Atlantic. By the time these storms reach the Americas, they have evolved into powerful, often destructive forces, leaving their mark on the land and people in their path.
For those familiar with African spirituality, this journey mirrors the story of Oya, the Yoruba Orisha of wind, storms, and transformation. As a deity, Oya commands tempests, embodying both the destruction and renewal that storms bring. She is a force of nature—powerful, passionate, and deeply misunderstood.
In my novel The Wind on Her Tongue, the second standalone installment of the Daughter of Three Waters trilogy after my debut, Shallow Waters, Oya is reimagined as a young woman grappling with her identity in 19th-century America. As I explored her story, I couldn’t ignore the parallels between her power, the journey of hurricanes, and the modern trope of the “angry Black woman.” These connections tell a story of resilience, strength, and the way Black women’s power is often misinterpreted by a world unprepared for their force.
In Yoruba mythology, Oya is the goddess of wind, storms, and sudden change. She controls the whirlwind, her presence marked by the sound of rushing winds and the crackle of lightning. Oya is a transformative force, tearing down what no longer serves in order to make way for something new.
The path of hurricanes echoes her journey. As these storms travel across the Atlantic, their origins are rooted in the same African winds that would have once whispered Oya’s name. For those taken from the African continent during the transatlantic slave trade, the hurricanes’ path is a haunting reminder of the journey their ancestors were forced to endure. It’s as if Oya herself follows that route, her storms carrying with them the memories of those who were displaced, the pain of what was lost, and the unyielding strength of those who survived.
In many ways, Oya embodies the duality of storms. Hurricanes are feared for their destructive power, yet they also bring renewal. They clear out stagnation, replenish water supplies, and scatter seeds that grow into new life. Similarly, Oya’s storms, while fierce, are not acts of vengeance but of transformation. Her winds uproot what is no longer needed, creating space for growth and change.
In contemporary culture, the power and passion of Black women are often misinterpreted as anger, giving rise to the harmful trope of the “angry Black woman.” This stereotype paints Black women as overly aggressive, difficult, or hostile whenever they assert themselves or step outside the boundaries society has set for them. It reduces their strength to something negative, dismissing their voices and diminishing their experiences.
Oya’s story offers a powerful counter-narrative to this trope. As a goddess, her storms are not fueled by irrational anger but by purpose. They are deliberate acts of transformation, necessary for growth and change. However, much like the way society views hurricanes—with fear and misunderstanding—Oya’s power is often misconstrued.
This mirrors the way Black women’s strength is often misjudged. When a Black woman speaks passionately, she is labeled “angry.” When she sets boundaries, she is called “difficult.” When she demands respect, she is seen as a threat. But just as Oya’s storms are forces of renewal, the passion and power of Black women are catalysts for change, challenging systems of oppression and clearing the way for progress.
Society places heavy expectations on Black women, confining them to roles that prioritize service and sacrifice over self-expression and autonomy. When Black women step outside these roles—when they speak up, demand more, or embrace their full power—they are often met with resistance.
This resistance is rooted in fear. Just as Oya’s storms disrupt the status quo, a Black woman’s refusal to conform challenges deeply ingrained societal norms. But instead of celebrating their courage, society often vilifies them, framing their strength as a problem rather than a gift.
This framing serves to maintain control, discouraging Black women from fully embracing their power. It’s a tactic as old as the transatlantic slave trade, where enslaved Africans were stripped of their culture, language, and spirituality as a means of domination. Even Oya herself, once revered as a deity, was demonized under colonial rule, her divine energy recast as something dangerous.
To embrace Oya’s story is to reclaim the power and passion that Black women have been taught to suppress. Oya reminds us that transformation is not always gentle—it can be messy, turbulent, and even frightening. But it is always necessary. Her storms do not apologize for their force, and neither should Black women.
The journey of hurricanes from Africa to America is a testament to resilience. It is a path shaped by history, one that carries the weight of loss but also the promise of renewal. Oya’s storms, like the power of Black women, are not something to be feared but to be understood and respected.
By reframing how we view storms—both literal and metaphorical—we can begin to dismantle the stereotypes that confine Black women. We can see their passion not as anger but as purpose, their strength not as a threat but as a source of inspiration.
In The Wind on Her Tongue, Oya’s journey is one of self-discovery and empowerment. She learns to embrace her storms, understanding that her power is not a burden but a gift. Her story mirrors the experiences of so many Black women who must navigate a world that fears their strength but desperately needs their transformative energy.
Through Oya, we see that power and passion, though often misunderstood, are forces of change. They remind us that sometimes, to clear the way for something new, we must be willing to weather the storm.
