The Not-So Secret Lives of Black Pittsburgh Women

In my short story “Snowfall,” the narrator Arletha declares: Black women weren’t meant to shovel snow. This is one of the most autobiographical lines from my 2020 book, a collection of stories called The Secret Lives of Church Ladies. As a native Floridian, I dislike snow and cold weather and the work they demand, even after nearly 25 Pittsburgh winters. And though the city that “Snowfall” is set in is never named, it’s definitely Pittsburgh. I’ve raised my daughters here, developed as a writer over a span of 20 years here, and now I’m currently reaping the fruits of my labor. The Secret Lives of Church Ladies was nominated for four major literary awards this year, three of which it won, and it will now be adapted for television by HBO Max. But winter in Pittsburgh is over.

I moved to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in 1997, four years out of college and three years married to a native of the Pittsburgh suburbs. I’ve built a cherished circle of friends and fellow artists, and I’ll always have love for my community here because they made Pittsburgh home. But it’s time for me to leave Pittsburgh. And it’s not because of the weather. I’ve stayed as long as I have because I’ve been co-parenting two daughters, the youngest of whom will graduate high school next year. Once she flies the nest, there’s nothing keeping me here.