Doing hard things.
I first remember dealing with the relational aspect of racism in elementary school. While standing in the lunch line, a boy called me a ‘nigger’. I decided to hit him back, except not with words but with my fist. I felt like that was the most appropriate response to such a painful blow to my personhood. That is my first memory of fighting for my humanity & dignity. And throughout the years, I continued to fight for my and my people’s humanity and dignity.
From calling out a racist AP history teacher who on the first day of class told me, the only black student, to sit up front so he could watch me (surely I was there because I’d cheated off these “brilliant” white kids) to sitting in decision-making meetings with powerful people and calling out their flippant use of harmful language & misguided logic about people who look like me, I’ve, unfortunately, always found & taken opportunities to raise my voice above the noise and say (and do) hard things.
By society’s standards, I’m an “acceptable Black”; perhaps even an “exceptional” one. I earned a PhD, “own” a home, have a passport with numerous stamps, speak another language with proficiency, so on and so forth. Yet, I’ve never felt exceptional or acceptable enough to escape the injustices that accompany white supremacy, systemic oppression, patriarchy, and capitalist greed. I’ve never felt that my personal status in life justifies the idea that Black people can magically rise above racism through education and achievement. We can’t. We learn to bend and mold and acquiesce and navigate, but we never fully transcend. It only takes one negative interaction with a police officer (which most Black people have experienced) or one fearful & irrational white woman to remind you of just how Black you are. I walk this earth very aware of the vulnerability of my black body.
The truth is, I quickly learned that the culture of whiteness is one of mediocrity. It encourages individualism, isolation, and disloyalty to moral values. Pledging allegiance to this way of being, in my opinion, is in direct conflict with the spirit of collaboration, creativity, and progress. So, my life aspirations are not steeped in whiteness and its definition of success. My personal desire is not to “make it” to the top of anyone’s corporate ladder. My dreams and desires are not situated in the context of whether or not I amass the acceptance of “important” people. My dreams are deeply rooted in the liberation of humanity. I live with a strong desire to see people dig deep into both their spirit and humanity, unearth their purpose, and become embodied light bearers who lead with intention.
As I do the work of facilitating the acceptance of more holistic leadership paradigms, I’m constantly reminded that we are in a moment that is calling leaders to dig deeper, embrace their purpose and lead differently. If you are in a leadership role or position of authority in an organization and you desire to dismantle systems of oppression and white supremacy, I implore you to first start with the ways that you need to personally divest your own aspirations from these systems.
Then, I’d ask you to pay attention to how these systems are at work around you & commit to doing some hard things.
How might you begin to incrementally shift the use of resources to fund new visions without the expectation of remaining loyal to the old structures? How might you look at budget line items differently? How might you reorder your thinking about the hierarchy of importance within the organization’s talent & voices? How might you give yourself permission to dream new dreams?
