The Million Woman March and Black Women’s Grassroots Organizing in the 1990s

Overview

The Million Woman March, held on October 25, 1997, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, stands as one of the most significant demonstrations of Black women’s collective power in American history. Convened by a small group of community activists led by Phile Chionesu and Asia Coney, the march drew an estimated 500,000 to over 2 million Black women to the Benjamin Franklin Parkway, creating a sea of unity, purpose, and determination. Unlike the 1995 Million Man March, which was organized by the Nation of Islam and focused on Black men’s atonement, the Million Woman March was a grassroots, independent effort that centered the voices, experiences, and political demands of Black women. It was a day of spiritual renewal, political education, and cultural celebration, but also a bold declaration that Black women would no longer be relegated to the margins of social movements.

The march emerged from a specific historical moment: the post-civil rights era, the backlash against welfare and affirmative action, the devastating impact of mass incarceration and the war on drugs, and the persistent sexism within both Black liberation movements and mainstream feminism. It was a response to the erasure of Black women’s leadership and a call for atonement, healing, and collective action. This article provides a comprehensive examination of the march’s origins, execution, controversies, and lasting impact, drawing on archival materials, oral histories, media coverage, and scholarly analysis to illuminate a pivotal chapter in late 20th-century American social movements.

Historical Background

The Long Arc of Black Women’s Activism

Black women’s grassroots organizing in the 1990s did not emerge in a vacuum. It was the latest expression of a tradition stretching back to the antebellum era, when free and enslaved Black women organized mutual aid societies, participated in the Underground Railroad, and fought for abolition. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the Black women’s club movement—exemplified by the National Association of Colored Women (NACW), founded in 1896—addressed lynching, education, and suffrage while promoting racial uplift. During the civil rights movement, women like Fannie Lou Hamer, Ella Baker, and Septima Clark were indispensable organizers, though they often labored behind the scenes while men held the titles and the spotlight.

The 1970s saw the crystallization of Black feminism as a distinct political and intellectual force. Organizations such as the Combahee River Collective (1974) articulated the concept of interlocking oppressions—racism, sexism, classism, and heterosexism—and insisted that any liberation movement must address them simultaneously. The 1977 National Women’s Conference in Houston featured a powerful Black women’s caucus, and the 1980s brought the rise of womanist theology and literature. Yet by the early 1990s, many Black women felt that their specific concerns were still being sidelined, both by a mainstream feminist movement that centered white, middle-class experiences and by a Black political establishment that prioritized racial solidarity over gender justice.

The 1990s Political Landscape

The decade was marked by profound contradictions. On one hand, the number of Black elected officials reached historic highs, and the Clinton administration projected an image of racial progress. On the other hand, policies such as the 1994 Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act and the 1996 Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act (welfare reform) disproportionately harmed Black women and their families. Mass incarceration decimated communities, while the crack cocaine epidemic and the HIV/AIDS crisis ravaged Black neighborhoods. The 1991 confirmation of Clarence Thomas to the Supreme Court, despite Anita Hill’s testimony about sexual harassment, galvanized Black women’s political consciousness and led to a surge in voter registration and candidacies.

It was in this context that the Million Man March took place on October 16, 1995. Organized by Louis Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam, the march brought hundreds of thousands of Black men to Washington, D.C., for a day of atonement and recommitment to family and community. While many Black women supported the march’s goals, others criticized its patriarchal messaging and the explicit request that women stay home to support the men. The absence of a comparable space for Black women to gather, reflect, and strategize became a catalyst for what would become the Million Woman March.

Why It Was Organized

The Million Woman March was conceived as a direct response to the perceived exclusion of Black women from the Million Man March and, more broadly, from leadership roles in the Black freedom struggle. Phile Chionesu later recalled, “We were told to stay home, to pray, to support our men. But we had our own work to do. We needed a space to heal ourselves and to speak our own truths.” The march was not intended as a protest against the Million Man March, but as an affirmation of Black women’s autonomous political agency.

The organizers articulated several interconnected goals. First, they sought to create a national platform for Black women to address the issues that directly affected their lives: economic inequality, educational disparities, health care access, domestic violence, and the criminal justice system. Second, they emphasized the need for atonement and reconciliation among Black women themselves, acknowledging internal divisions based on class, color, sexuality, and geography. Third, they aimed to model a new form of grassroots organizing that was independent of established civil rights organizations, political parties, and corporate funding. As Asia Coney stated, “This is not about celebrities or politicians. This is about the everyday woman who gets up every morning and fights for her family.”

The march also reflected a broader shift in Black women’s activism during the 1990s, away from traditional hierarchical structures and toward decentralized, network-based models. The rise of the internet, though still in its infancy, allowed organizers to bypass mainstream media gatekeepers and communicate directly with potential participants. The march’s call to action resonated particularly with working-class and poor Black women who felt alienated from the professionalized, non-profit-driven feminism of the era.

How Organizing Began

The Million Woman March began with a conversation between two Philadelphia women, Phile Chionesu and Asia Coney, in the spring of 1997. Chionesu, a former welfare recipient turned entrepreneur, and Coney, a housing activist, shared a frustration with the lack of a unified Black women’s movement. They decided to organize a mass march in Philadelphia, a city with deep historical resonance for Black Americans, and set a date just six months away: October 25, 1997.

With no institutional backing, no budget, and no staff, the two women relied on what they called “shoe-leather organizing.” They printed flyers and distributed them in beauty salons, churches, community centers, and public housing projects. They used fax machines and conference calls to build a national network of volunteer coordinators in cities like Detroit, Chicago, Atlanta, and New York. The early internet played a crucial role: email listservs and nascent websites allowed the message to spread rapidly, reaching Black women who were not connected to traditional civil rights networks.

The organizing process was not without challenges. Mainstream civil rights organizations, including the NAACP and the National Council of Negro Women, were initially skeptical, and some Black women leaders expressed concern about the march’s lack of a clear organizational structure. The Philadelphia city government was hesitant to issue permits for an event of unknown size, and the media largely ignored the effort until the final weeks. Yet the grassroots approach proved remarkably effective. By October, busloads of women were being organized from as far away as California and Texas, and the march had become a national phenomenon.

What Happened During the Event

The day of the march dawned cool and clear. Women began gathering at the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall in the early morning hours, many having traveled through the night. The official program began with a procession down Market Street toward the Benjamin Franklin Parkway, where a stage had been erected in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. The crowd was overwhelmingly Black and female, though some men and non-Black allies were present in supporting roles. The atmosphere was described by participants as electric, spiritual, and deeply emotional.

The program, which lasted from approximately 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., featured a mix of speeches, musical performances, poetry readings, and moments of collective prayer. Notably, no elected officials or nationally known political figures spoke from the main stage—a deliberate choice by the organizers to keep the focus on grassroots voices. Speakers included local activists, educators, health professionals, and survivors of domestic violence and incarceration. A central ritual was the “atonement ceremony,” in which women were asked to acknowledge past hurts, forgive themselves and others, and commit to personal and communal transformation.

Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, the South African anti-apartheid activist and former wife of Nelson Mandela, had been invited as a keynote speaker. However, the U.S. State Department denied her a visa, citing her controversial record during the apartheid struggle. She addressed the crowd via a recorded video message, and her absence became a focal point for criticism of U.S. foreign policy. Other highlights included a performance by the Sweet Honey in the Rock a cappella ensemble and a powerful address by Dr. Delois Blakely, the “Queen Mother” of Harlem, who spoke about the spiritual dimensions of the struggle.

Key People

Platform and Issues

The Million Woman March did not issue a formal, single-issue platform. Instead, it embraced a holistic vision of Black women’s liberation that encompassed multiple, interconnected demands. The following issues were central to the day’s speeches, workshops, and subsequent organizing:

• Economic Self-Sufficiency: Support for Black women-owned businesses, job training programs, and an end to discriminatory lending practices.
• Education: Increased funding for public schools, culturally relevant curricula, and access to higher education for non-traditional students.
• Health Care: Universal access to health care, with a focus on breast cancer, HIV/AIDS, mental health, and reproductive justice.
• Criminal Justice Reform: An end to police brutality, mandatory minimum sentencing, and the death penalty; support for incarcerated women and their families.
• Political Empowerment: Voter registration drives, campaign training for Black women candidates, and accountability for elected officials.
• Family and Community Healing: Programs to address domestic violence, child abuse, and substance abuse; intergenerational dialogue and mentoring.
• Atonement and Reconciliation: Acknowledgment of internal divisions and a commitment to unity across class, color, and sexual orientation.
• Environmental Justice: Opposition to the siting of toxic waste facilities in Black communities and support for sustainable development.
• Housing and Homelessness: Affordable housing initiatives and an end to predatory eviction practices.

Attendance Estimates

The number of participants in the Million Woman March remains one of the most contested aspects of the event. The following table summarizes the major estimates and their sources:

The wide discrepancy reflects both the inherent difficulty of counting large, dense crowds and the political stakes of the numbers. Organizers argued that low estimates were part of a pattern of minimizing Black women’s achievements, while critics contended that inflated figures undermined the march’s credibility. Most independent analyses suggest a figure in the range of 500,000 to 750,000, which would still make it one of the largest gatherings of women in U.S. history.

Contemporary Media Coverage

Media coverage of the Million Woman March was shaped by the racial and gender politics of the 1990s news industry. Mainstream outlets such as The New York Times, The Washington Post, and the major television networks provided limited coverage, often focusing on the attendance controversy and the march’s lack of famous speakers rather than its substantive platform. The Philadelphia Inquirer, as the local paper of record, offered the most comprehensive reporting, with a special section that included participant voices, photographs, and analysis.

In contrast, Black media outlets celebrated the march as a historic triumph. Essence magazine, the leading publication for Black women, featured extensive post-march coverage and editorials that framed the event as a turning point in Black women’s political consciousness. Black-owned radio stations, particularly those with talk formats, had promoted the march for weeks and provided live coverage. The nascent Black online community, including forums on NetNoir and BlackPlanet, buzzed with firsthand accounts and debates about the march’s significance.

A recurring critique from participants was that the white-dominated media failed to grasp the spiritual and emotional dimensions of the day. As one attendee told the Inquirer, “They want to count heads, but they can’t count hearts. This was about something deeper than numbers.” The media’s focus on the absence of celebrities like Oprah Winfrey or Maxine Waters also rankled, as it missed the point that the march was deliberately designed to elevate ordinary women.

Controversies / Disputed Claims

The Million Woman March was not without its internal and external controversies. The most persistent dispute concerned the attendance figures, as detailed above. Beyond the numbers, several other contested issues shaped the march’s reception and legacy.

Exclusion of Established Leaders: The organizers’ decision not to invite prominent Black women elected officials or civil rights leaders to speak was both praised as a radical democratic gesture and criticized as a missed opportunity for coalition-building. Figures like Congresswoman Maxine Waters and Dr. Dorothy Height expressed support for the march’s goals but were reportedly frustrated by their exclusion from the program. Organizers maintained that the march was for “the voiceless,” not for those with existing platforms.

Financial Transparency: In the aftermath of the march, some participants and journalists raised questions about the handling of funds raised through merchandise sales and donations. The organizers, who had operated on a shoestring budget, were criticized for a lack of formal accounting. Chionesu and Coney defended their integrity, noting that they had personally incurred debt to finance the event and that no salaries were paid.

Role of Men: While men were not prohibited from attending, they were asked to play a supportive rather than leadership role. Some Black men and male allies felt this was exclusionary, while many women argued it was essential for creating a safe and focused space. The debate echoed larger tensions within Black communities about gender and power.

Winnie Mandela’s Visa Denial: The U.S. government’s refusal to grant a visa to Winnie Mandela was widely condemned by march organizers and participants as politically motivated. The State Department cited her alleged involvement in human rights abuses during the anti-apartheid struggle, but critics saw the decision as an insult to the march and to Black women globally.

Relationship with the Nation of Islam: Although the Million Woman March was independent of the Nation of Islam, some organizers had personal ties to the group, and the march’s emphasis on atonement echoed the Million Man March’s themes. This led to speculation, particularly in the mainstream press, that the march was a Nation of Islam front. Organizers consistently denied this, and the march’s platform was notably more progressive on issues like LGBTQ inclusion and reproductive rights than the Nation of Islam’s official positions.

Historical Impact

The Million Woman March had an immediate and lasting impact on Black women’s political organizing. In the months following the event, local Million Woman March chapters formed in dozens of cities, working on issues such as voter registration, school reform, and economic development. The march also inspired a wave of similar identity-based gatherings, including the Million Youth March (1998) and the Million Mom March (2000), though none replicated the specific focus on Black women’s grassroots leadership.

On a broader scale, the march contributed to a surge in Black women’s political participation. The 1998 midterm elections saw record numbers of Black women running for office, and the 2000 presidential election featured heightened Black women’s voter turnout. Scholars have argued that the march helped to create a national infrastructure of politically engaged Black women that would later be activated in movements like Black Lives Matter and the 2017 Women’s March. The march’s model of decentralized, network-based organizing, which relied on personal relationships and digital communication, anticipated the social media-driven activism of the 21st century.

The march also shifted the discourse within Black communities about gender roles. By publicly centering women’s leadership and demanding accountability from Black men and institutions, it challenged the patriarchal norms that had long structured Black political life. While tensions remained, the march opened space for more explicit conversations about sexism, homophobia, and internal power dynamics.

Legacy

Twenty-five years after the event, the Million Woman March is remembered as a watershed moment in Black feminist history. Its legacy is preserved in oral history projects, documentary films, and scholarly works that continue to analyze its significance. The 20th anniversary in 2017 was marked by a commemorative gathering in Philadelphia, organized by some of the original participants, which drew thousands of women to reflect on the progress made and the work still unfinished.

The march’s influence can be seen in the leadership of Black women in subsequent social movements. The founders of Black Lives Matter, Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi, have cited the tradition of Black women’s organizing—including the Million Woman March—as foundational to their work. The 2017 Women’s March, while criticized for its own racial blind spots, was in part a response to the same erasure of women’s voices that the Million Woman March had protested two decades earlier.

Perhaps the most enduring legacy is the network of women who found their political voice on that October day. Countless participants have testified that the march transformed their sense of self and community, leading them to become more active in their neighborhoods, schools, and workplaces. As Phile Chionesu reflected in a 2017 interview, “The march was never just about one day. It was about planting seeds that would grow for generations.”

What Historians Say

Historians of Black women’s activism have situated the Million Woman March within the long tradition of Black feminist organizing while also noting its distinctive features. Beverly Guy-Sheftall, a pioneering scholar of Black feminism, has described the march as “a powerful assertion of Black women’s self-determination at a moment when they were being told, from all sides, that their issues did not matter.” She and others have emphasized the march’s grassroots character as a rebuke to the professionalized, foundation-funded feminism of the 1990s.

Patricia Hill Collins, whose book Black Feminist Thought provided a theoretical framework for understanding the march, has analyzed the event as an example of “outsider-within” politics—a space where Black women could speak freely about their experiences without conforming to the expectations of dominant institutions. Other scholars, such as Kimberly Springer and Duchess Harris, have examined the march’s use of spirituality and atonement as political tools, linking it to the womanist tradition.

Critical perspectives have also emerged. Some historians argue that the march’s lack of a sustained organizational structure limited its long-term policy impact. Others have questioned whether the emphasis on personal atonement risked depoliticizing structural problems. Nevertheless, there is broad consensus that the Million Woman March was a landmark event that expanded the possibilities for Black women’s collective action and left an indelible mark on American social movement history.

Revision History