For much of her childhood, Rosalyn Coates endured severe asthma. Confined to limited physical activity, she had to swap galloping with neighborhood kids for a seat on the porch.
But never alone, Coates, called “Roz” by friends, always invited her trusty companion: a good book. “All I could do is sit my buns still and read.”
So began the literary journey for Coates, 71, a retired attorney and Oracle Set Book Club member who helped incorporate the group’s nonprofit foundation, which has awarded annual scholarships to Washington, D.C., school students since 1999.
Touted as the oldest continuously operating Black women’s literary circle in Washington, D.C., Oracle Set was launched in 1966 by Claudette Franklin, a passionate literacy advocate who assembled the original 15 members and remained active until her death in 1996. Two founding members, Bernadette Derr and Maggalean Westin, remain active six decades later.
Today, members range in age from mid-30s to 80 and are capped at 18 members. Like most Black women reading circles, they traverse genres and hold rotating meetings at members’ homes, with good food and fellowship always on the menu.
A slice of joy and community, Oracle Set inspires self-determination, says Coates. “More than coming together to read, we affirm who we are through what we read. We don’t wait for The New York Times best sellers list to tell us what to choose. Our group opens us, not just to reading, but to the world that books inhabit.”
That same premise — radical and pioneering for their time — was embraced by one of the first recorded Black women’s reading groups. The Female Literary Association, founded by educator Sara Mapps Douglas in 1831, was based in Philadelphia and composed of “free” literate Black women.
Mostly leaders in the anti-slavery and suffrage movements, they were avid readers, writers and activists. They shared their own essays with the reading circle and delved into scripture, poetry and abolitionist journals. As the 19th century progressed into post-slavery emancipation, mutual aid for southern sisters and their kin was a hallmark activity of these literary circles, often called women’s clubs. Black women’s literary clubs would blossom over the decades that followed, taking root in Detroit, New York, Pittsburgh, Indianapolis and Washington, D.C.
Kathy Freeman says those bold intentions of ancestors dating back two centuries remain in our bones. Leader of A Gathering of Women Readers in Philadelphia, she says Black women have instinctively embraced the causes of family, community and the world.
“For women who look like me, book clubs are built upon collective actions. While everyone isn’t left-leaning, we are all humanists.”
Black women’s literary circles are a rebuke of patriarchy, asserts Freeman. “Though we are the backbone of every movement we support – the church, civil rights, Black liberation – we usually go unrecognized. But in our book clubs everyone has a voice.”
Freeman’s group has supported medical drives for Cuba, clothing drives for Senegal, local book drives and summer camp for the city’s unhoused population. They host guest speakers from Philly and beyond. One, a few years before the assaults in Gaza, was Palestinian-American activist/author Susan Abulhawa.
Freeman, 69, “happily retired” program analyst for the Philadelphia Health Department, started the reading group eight years ago. They gather quarterly, 13 strong, with two books for discussion and always open with wellness check-ins.
Most active in-person clubs skew older. However, the mix is intergenerational and convened online, by sororities, churches, social clubs and even celebrities (Oprah Book Club).
Monique Greenwood, Co-founder of Go On Girl Book Club (GOGBC), points to the sense of belonging that book clubs invoke. She remembers in 1991 when her two friends, Tracy Mitchell-Brown and Lynda Johnson, were engrossed in chats about a book they both were coincidentally reading, No Easy Place to Be, a debut novel by Steven Corbin about the Harlem Renaissance.
“I was feeling very left out…and wanted to be part of what seemed like a really important fellowship.” From there, the trio planted the seeds of Go On Girl Book Club.
Greenwood, 67, former editor-in-chief of Essence and now owner of Akwaaba Bed and Breakfast Inns, anchored the first group in New York City. “We were casually structured, guided by some important criteria. Our membership was capped at 12 to coincide with the months we would meet.”
“Reading and reflection of the books served merely as a jumping-off point to share and exchange ideas; to hear each other’s voices,” Greenwood offered.
As members relocated, some carried the model with them, starting new chapters in other cities. Today, one of the nation’s largest in-person literary circles, Go On Girl claims 51 chapters and more than 500 members across the country. They hold an annual conference, distribute merchandise, and in 1999, wrote the book on book clubs.
The Go On Girl! Book Club Guide for Reading Groups, authored by the three founders, is a roadmap for starting, structuring and sustaining a successful literary circle, featuring reading lists, author chats and discussion questions.
Joyce Ferguson-Fleming and her D.C.-based Sister Girls Book Club recently celebrated their 25th anniversary. Ferguson-Fleming, 77, a voracious lifelong reader, was filling a void left by her daughter’s departure for college. She was not necessarily looking for new friends, but instead, was mission-driven to assemble like-minded Black women.
“The goal was simple — a book club where everyone was invested in reading. We didn’t come together as best friends, but as book lovers.”
Founder Ferguson-Fleming was joined for an interview with original members Lisa Griffith and Shelly Jackson.
Griffith, 71, said the idea of a book club was kicked around for at least two years. “One day Joyce set a date and time, and we started with eight members.” Over the 25 years, members have come and gone, but most have been with the book club for 15 years or more.
Said Jackson, “Joyce actually used our workplace — the DC Municipal Court — as her recruitment ground.” Jackson, 64, a probation officer, said members included attorneys, administrators, clerks, social workers. “We were all open to wide genres and themes, different perspectives, honest discussions. … No one judging you.”
“We feed each other,” adds Griffith, a retired court reporter. “We lay out food, ideas and nourish each other emotionally and spiritually…We go places I wouldn’t go on my own. Through Sister Girls, I am exposed.”
Over the decades they’ve enjoyed field trips, celebrated milestone birthdays, mourned the passing of members’ loved ones and cheered the birth of grandbabies. “We’ve grown from a reading circle to a sisterhood,” confides Ferguson-Fleming.
The legions of Black women book club members tell a bigger story in data released by Pew Research Center in 2014 exploring reading habits of Americans. Pew found that women across races and socioeconomic statuses read considerably more than their male counterparts. But Black women, especially college-educated, read the most, surpassing all demographic groups in consumption of every book format — bound, audiobooks and e-books.
Curtis Bunn, retired journalist and author of 14 books, gives witness to the Pew findings. “Black women absorb passion more than any other demographic group.”
Even before his 1999 debut novel Baggage Check hit #1 on the Essence Book List, Bunn, embracing the word-of-mouth magic of Black women readers, embarked on speaking tours to book clubs across the country. “I always left those book clubs feeling uplifted. It was like going to church,” recalls Bunn, 65. “You get feedback that makes you a better writer.”
That feeling of being “immersed in a sustained happy hour” convinced Bunn to launch The National Book Club Conference in 2003. Nicknamed “Literary Bliss Weekend,” he marked the 22nd anniversary this year. Held in Atlanta and attended by some 400 primarily Black women (95%), conferees pay $350 for a series of general sessions, an awards event and breakout workshops attended by prominent authors and public luminaries.
“During the first conference I was in tears most of the weekend,” Bunn remembers. “The camaraderie, energy and joy made everyone feel they were where they were supposed to be. It’s more than meeting the author and other book club members. It’s an immersive experience!”
As technology changed how readers connect, Black women’s literary communities expanded beyond in-person living rooms. Glory Edim, 44, targeted a massive online community, appealing to younger Black women with Well-Read Black Girl in 2015. The online platform and book club, fueled by social media, claims more than 400,000 followers dedicated to celebrating the works of Black women authors. Well-Read also sponsors local in-person chapters across the country., hosting book festivals, a podcast and author conversations.
An Essence article about Well-Read Black Girl inspired Kodee Brown, 35, to start a group in Greenville, South Carolina, in 2019. Working with an independent bookstore as the bookseller and venue host, Brown put out the call for members. Surprisingly, many showed up, including several White women.
“Our invitation emphasized everyone was welcome. but we were clear our focus was on Black women authors and the Black experience,” explains Brown. “Some of the White women came genuinely to connect as allies, others out of curiosity.”
Eventually, when membership was capped at 15, about three White women remained. At times, Brown believed the racial mix made conversations challenging and members often censored themselves. During her facilitation of the group, she worked hard to create a safe space.
The Greenville group, composed mostly of Black women, continues. After two years in leadership, Brown relocated to Charleston and stepped down, responding to the busy demands of her nursing career, an advanced degree and eventually motherhood.
Now the mom of 4-year-old twins, Brown says she has passed on the passion for books to her girls. “From the time they were infants, we read to them. They could read before they could walk.”
“The book club was a time of joy,” Brown recalls. “I gained friends who have remained steadfast to this day. In those book groups we could hear each other.”
Being seen and heard is Marcie Thomas’ preoccupation. Founder of the Brown Girl Collective (BGC), she sponsors virtual book clubs, wellness sessions and author chats, a path that began in 2009, first focusing on research about Black women who were often ignored and invisible.
The pandemic accelerated the possibilities of virtual gathering, allowing literary communities to reach women well beyond their immediate neighborhoods. And Thomas, 59, saw an opportunity to stoke her passion for reading.
“Because I’ve always enjoyed reading, it spurred me to start a virtual book club.”
With Black women readers top of mind, Thomas has targeted nonfiction authors, novelists, poets, filmmakers and other content producers. What began as a monthly virtual event in 2020 has expanded to twice a week, featuring the Monday book club and Wednesday Live Well Sister. “No matter how old we are,” says Thomas, “there’s a little brown girl that lives within all of us.”
Across nearly two centuries, Black women have gathered in parlors and living rooms, from bookstores, conference halls and digital screens. The books bring them into the space. What they build together keeps them coming back.
Gwen McKinney, a former journalist, is creator of the public engagement initiative Unerased | Black Women Speak.
