“Somewhere between Jeff Bezos and Breonna Taylor”

I don’t hold the belief that life is a horizontal continuum, but I do believe that each of us who are fortunate enough to still have breath in our bodies exists somewhere between Jeff Bezos and Breonna Taylor.

Why do I feel so confident in making such a statement? Because yesterday I realized I knew Breonna Taylor.

Originally, I saw her face in the news and repeatedly thought, “She looks just like the Breonna that I grew up with at Kelloggsville.” (Kelloggsville was my local, West Michigan public school.) But my mind kept processing Louisville, Kentucky, and ultimately dismissed the resemblance. For more than two weeks, I lamented Breonna’s loss and tried to keep her memory alive on social media posts and through calls to action. Towards the end of that timeframe, a neighbor who’d recently followed me on Instagram posted a link to justiceforbreonna.org; I followed the link, scrolling through the site’s thoughtfully written posts and photos, struck once again by the notion that she felt like someone I knew.

At this point, just to satiate my curiosity, I began digging. I started by searching her name, and quickly a Wikipedia link came up. It was then that I saw my first snippet of confirmation: born in Grand Rapids, MI, just six months and four days after from me.

My heart sank. “No,” I audibly heard myself repeat.

I still couldn’t believe that this was her. My mind needed more proof. So often, in this highly visible age of Black death, many of us collectively lament the names we see in the news but we’re still separated from the name belonging to a neighbor or friend. This distanced lament has always been my experience. So I continued digging. But I’d quickly learn that I didn’t have to dig far.

Naturally, I next searched “Breonna Taylor Kelloggsville.” Scrolling past several initial hits, a West Michigan news publication cropped up. Reading the snippet was enough to make the connection. I knew. It clicked. And it was there.

My mind flooded with memories.

I recalled us sitting next to one another in Mr. Linker’s afternoon Biology class. I thought of her voice and bright smile, barely changed from the posts we see circulating the internet. I grappled with this new reality: Breonna Taylor was my peer — this same Breonna. The article helped me realize that she had transferred from our school some 10, 12-ish years ago when her family moved to Kentucky.

Within moments of taking all of this in, I was devastated.

Zero degrees of separation.

In my living room, I began to break down, uttering more “no’s.” Eventually, I knew I needed to call my mom, who had served as a Kelloggsville Public School board member since my middle school days. Proof aside, I needed to confirm this seemingly untrue story.

The call lasted about six minutes and thirty-four seconds, and I recall silently crying for most of it. It was undeniable; I remembered Breonna Taylor. And she was sweet, beautiful. But those characteristics didn’t stop a brutally racist police system and violently anti-black police officers from breaking-and-entering, guns drawn, and shooting her (at least) eight times and murdering her. All without consequence.

They stole her.

—

As I pause to think about her life, I’m struck by the proximity I feel to her pain given our shared childhood history. I ask myself, how could I ever not stand up for justice? Especially on her behalf? It’s real for me.

And at the same time, I know it’s not that real for everyone.

Cue Jeff Bezos, whom I do not know, but do know a little bit about — which is to say that I know he’s (a) currently the richest man alive and (b) built his company based on customer-centrism. Now, at this point you might be thinking, “Jeremy, where are you going with this?” And if you are asking that question, I ask you to bear with me for two moments to make two particular points.

First, I want to make the point that there is a thread — a shared experience — that connects these two lives.

And second, that I think the example of Bezos illustrates how this shared experience is a universal human truth.

So, to my first point. The one that connects us all together. I’d like to revisit a term I used moments ago, ‘customer-centrism’ or as it’s more often referred to: customer obsession. There isn’t a (thriving) business that doesn’t radically stake its future on living and breathing this value of understanding and seeing things from the customer’s point of view. Yes, it’s a business term but businesses are run by humans; more importantly, or insightfully, I believe this value exists outside of business under the larger umbrella of Empathy. Empathy, being the ability to listen, hear, see and humanize one another. The connection that we so often give to those whom we see as valuable. Which is the thread, or the shared experience, that in one sense connects Jeff Bezos and Breonna Taylor — and ultimately you and me, too.

Empathy is the means of growth, progress, successful relationships — business or otherwise. It’s a non-negotiable component.

So that’s point #1: Empathy connects us all together.

Point #2 is connected to point #1, namely that all of us are capable of empathy.

Back to Bezos, who I believe models an extreme situational case of empathy as a consequence of being the richest man alive. To whom does he truly answer? To whom does he ‘ask permission’? Take a moment to imagine with me.

No one.

His means, on the one hand, disincentivize connectedness and accountability. Yet, despite this, he remains shareholder-aware and customer-obsessed. I’d argue it’s a means of self-preservation of wealth, but still, he doesn’t have to act in that manner. He chooses to do so. Therein illustrates the point: the man who arguably could be the most removed from the need to showcase empathy provides us with a contrarian demonstration of empathy to effect change in a manner that aligns with his personal, corporate, and contextual values.

So what does this mean?

To me, it means good news.

It means we’ve found a way forward. A way upwards. A way to a higher plane of existence. The possibility of a deeper level of connectedness.

And what is it that connects us? Our shared human capacity for empathy. Each of us possesses it. We all exist somewhere between Jeff Bezos and Breonna Taylor. Whether its through proximity to pain or for self-serving purposes, the capacity is there.

Imagine with me, what would it look like if we reexamined empathy and brought it into places we previously didn’t believe it should exist?

• What if empathy was rooted at the core of our workplace cultures, startups, tech communities, politics and housing policies?
• What if it shaped the way every single manager led their direct reports?
• What if folks didn’t wait to see the “need” for empathy, or a more surface level grasping of it in the form of diversity, equity and inclusion sentiments but instead anticipated — empathetically — an environment that genuinely and deeply fostered empathy?

Personally, I imagine the world like this, like the ideas above. I imagine it would be the world, reconciled.

And I’ve decided to do something to begin building a way there.

I’m calling it ASCENDING.

Ascending is my effort to do what I can, with what I have, where I’m placed right now.

Ascending has a vision to see the world reconciled, beginning with startups. We believe that more empathy is the starting place for creating widespread and sustained change.

Our mission is to foster racial empathy by providing startup communities with the means to do so. Whether providing access to voices of long-standing activists, highlighting Diversity, Equity & Inclusion leaders or providing resources from Black and other underrepresented folks, our mission is designed to thoroughly teach and inspire empathy through the means of reading, listening, voting, giving, and gathering.

It’s not lost on me that I’ve made this announcement on Juneteenth 2020; in the midst of darkness, a pandemic, Black death, pain to many of our queer and trans Black and brown folks, plus so much more.

I’m compelled to say now is the time to build. And build meaningful shit, not just build hype around lofty sentiments followed up by hollow action.

Given all this, I pause for you. I lament with you. At the same time, I’m compelled to say now is the time to build. And build meaningful shit, not just build hype around lofty sentiments followed up by hollow action. I’m convinced that during this time we should not forget nor back down. So with that truth underscoring this mission I invite you — especially if you’re in, at, or founding a startup — to join me. To join us. To join Ascending.

We’re coming full force later this summer.

Peace & love,

Jeremy