Jamilah Lemieux has long been one of the sharpest voices on race, gender, and pop culture – and her debut book “Black. Single. Mother.” (Penguin Random House, 2026) makes that clear. In 21 essays and 21 interviews,  the writer, journalist, and cultural critic melds memoir with cultural commentary, research, and hard-earned reflection to challenge the way Black single mothers are often flattened, shamed, or misunderstood. 

She didn’t set out to write a neat little book about Black single motherhood. She set out to tell the truth…her truth. “The book…in a way, wrote itself,” Lemieux shared with BET exclusively.

During our chat, Lemieux was on her book tour, specifically at her Chicago stop. The Windy City is where she grew up and where she experienced what she’s described as her own mother’s wild and mildly disappointing role as a single Black mother. As Lemieux thoughtfully answered questions, she was approached by a hometown homie she hadn’t seen in years. Their exchange was warm, a reunion. She then invited the man to her Chicago tour stop at a local bookstore. His response felt supportive and excited. 

“Black. Single. Mother.,” this title, these words, are intentional. Lemieux chose three distinct words that evoke feelings for anyone reading them separately, let alone together. “The original title that I sold it as was ‘She Bad.’ And then we changed it to ‘Baby’s Mommas Day.’” Lemieux said the marketing executive at her publisher led them away from the latter, calling it a “bad idea.” Lemieux wanted to “get straight to the point,” and she wanted something “heavy and cool.”

“I was like, ‘Why don’t we just call it Black Single Mother?’” Lemieux’s intention was to reject the idea that there is anything to hide or soften about that particular identity, her identity. “Black single mothers deserve their flowers,” she added. “And I wanted to give those to us straight up.”

“I’m sure there are people hesitant to pick this book up because of the title. If I called it ‘Mother’s Love’ or something that didn’t say exactly what it is, there may have been people who’d be more receptive to it,” Lemieux said.
Throughout the book, Lemieux refuses to pity or pathologize single moms. Instead, she celebrates them. She mixes her own story as a college-educated daughter of a single mom with a hands-on coparenting partner, with the wide-ranging experiences of other women. Every chapter bursts with candor and heart.

She said the project evolved from what she originally thought it would be. At first, she imagined a more expert-driven deep dive, but when she started writing, she realized she could not separate the subject from her own life. “The book I turned in was not the book I sold,” she said. “I realized that it would be difficult for me to talk about Black single motherhood without talking about my own experiences as a child of a single mother and as a, technically, generation single mother myself.”

Lemieux is careful not to present Black single motherhood as one universal story. “There is no one single Black mom story,” she said, noting that her own experience is shaped by factors like education, class, and support systems that are not true for everyone. That is part of what makes the book resonate: it makes room for many kinds of Black mothers instead of one stereotype.

In the book, not only does Lemieux share intimate details about her journey as a single mom, but she also interviews 21 other Black single mothers who also share their experiences, lessons, triumphs, failures, and all. 

Motherhood also reshaped Lemieux’s identity. When asked who she is now, Lemieux answered plainly: “I’m a mother and a guider and a daughter and sister and a thinker.” She also said motherhood made her “so much more patient” and “much less intense,” adding that it helped her become more graceful with herself. “I’m not a perfect mother,” she said. “I’m not going to always get it right, but I know I’m doing my best. My child sees and reflects my effort.”

That tenderness is one of the book’s quiet strengths. Lemieux said her daughter, Naima, 13, is central to the work, even if she has mixed feelings about her reading it too soon. Lemieux found out that Naima got her hands on “Black.Single.Mother.” and read the chapter dedicated to her, an open letter from Jamilah.

It upset Lemieux as she wanted to watch Naima read her words to her, but she understands her curiosity. “If my mom had written a book, and in that book she tells the story of her parents’ relationship and my relationship, you can’t stop me from reading that!” Lemieux is raising a brilliant, creative, and strong young woman, and it delighted her when Naima told her, “I am the book.”

Lemieux has spent her career caring for, advocating for, and holding space for Black people, especially Black women. However, in doing so, Lemieux’s brand of feminism was often mistaken for being a man-hater, specifically a Black man-hater. The truth is the literal opposite. Lemieux loves Black men. She loves them so much that she dedicated a chapter in the book to them and it’s the longest chapter.

In said chapter, Lemieux tackles the fraught Black-relationship narrative. In her brilliance, she observes that many Black women and girls are raised to protect Black boys – even at the expense of our own well-being. “It has reached a point where we feel we can’t hold [Black men and boys] accountable for the way they treat us, because we are so busy protecting them from ‘the system,’” she argued. “There is a loyalty to Black men that Black women have that is largely one-sided, and it starts incredibly early,” she adds. “Black. Single. Mother.” refuses to let those pressures go unexamined, but Lemieux is clear she’s no “man-hater” – rather, she’s demanding honesty about what Black women and girls endure.

Still, Lemieux hopes the book gives readers something bigger than a story about her family. “I want people to have a heightened respect for Black single mothers,” she said. “I want them to reconsider some of the negative attitudes and stereotypes they may have bought into in the past.”

For Lemieux, that means shifting the conversation from judgment to recognition. “Imagine if single mothers walked around all day hearing, ‘Thank you for your service,’” she said. That, more than anything, feels like the spirit of “Black. Single. Mother.” — a book that asks for empathy, and gives Black mothers their due. This goes out to all the baby’s mommas!