Nearly two decades ago, a black professional woman who was a friend shared a heartbreaking secret:

"I wish I had the right to be average," she said. "Just once in a while."

We were sitting at my kitchen table, unwinding over a glass of wine after a long day. She was normally so feisty and full of fight and never one for self-pity. This had to be fatigue talking.

"Oh, c'mon," I said. "No one expects you to be perfect."

"Not perfect?" she said, shaking her head. "Not an option."

She described the navigations of her daily life. She tiptoed around family members who were proud of her accomplishments but sensitive to perceived slights in her educated ways. At work, she felt she was evaluated not as an individual, but as the representative of all black women. Her every misstep was filed away in some white co-workers' minds as another example of hereditary incompetence.

I winced as she described how often white colleagues and supervisors said the most inappropriate things around her, comments they never would make to someone they wanted to impress.

"It's as if I'm invisible," she said, "like I'm just the family maid who is supposed to keep cleaning and act like she hasn't heard a thing."

That night, I decided the hardest person to be in America is a black woman. I often think of that conversation as the flagellations unfurl against Michelle Obama.

For the first time in American politics, a strong, accomplished black woman is auditioning to become first lady. This is monumental not only as a historical moment but also as an opportunity for the less evolved to unleash a lot of fear masquerading as righteous fury. For some, Mrs. Obama is a triple threat: black, female and holding center stage.

And so here we go: A Fox News anchor said that Mrs. Obama's affectionate fist bump with her husband was actually a "terrorist fist jab." Mostly white, male pundits debate whether she is too outspoken, too angry. Too black is what some of them mean.

In an online video, the Tennessee Republican Party altered the speech in which she said that for the first time, she was "really proud" of her country. They deleted the word "really" then repeatedly played the edited clip with shots of white people insisting they were always proud to be Americans.

These attempts to undermine and discredit Michelle Obama have been going on for months. And for months, too many women like me have been silent.

About a week ago, Mary C. Curtis — a columnist for the Charlotte Observer and an African-American — wrote an op-ed for The Washington Post, titled "The Loud Silence of Feminists."

"An educated, successful lawyer, devoted wife and caring mother has been labeled 'angry' and unpatriotic and snidely referred to as Barack Obama's 'baby mama,'" Curtis wrote. "And this black woman is wondering: Where are Obama's feminist defenders?"

Curtis' question hit a nerve. Readers sent me e-mails linking to her column. Then a black friend called to make sure I'd read it. Last Monday, three friends of color, in separate conversations, all in person, echoed her concern.

As one friend put it: "You were all over them for unfair attacks on Hillary. What are you waiting for?"

There is no good answer to that question and only one right response: I'm sorry. Clearly, the chief beneficiaries of the feminist movement continue to be white women.

Curtis told me that she was surprised by the volume of reader response and blog discussions sparked by her column.

"A lot of black women said, 'You nailed it,'" Curtis said.

Unfortunately, they weren't her target audience. Most of those women — white women like me — remain conspicuously silent, which may disappoint Curtis, but she's not surprised. As she put it, "In America, there's seldom a cost for disrespecting a black woman."

Women can change that equation. Through calls and letters, speeches and signs, women can make it clear to those who feel free to trash Michelle Obama that there is a cost for disrespecting any woman.

And women of every color should make them pay.

Connie Schultz is a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist for The Plain Dealer in Cleveland and the author of two books from Random House: "Life Happens" and "… and His Lovely Wife." To find out more about Connie Schultz (cschultz@plaind.com) and read her past columns, please visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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