George Gave Me Breath
When George Floyd was murdered on May 25, 2020, I felt exhausted from the perpetual battle with racism; from systems that work exactly as they were designed to micro-inequities delivered via Zoom. I sent an emotional email to my 22-person, all non-Black, organization to tell them that I was not okay. That it was painful to witness another Black person be killed simply for living, though I never watched the video. In solidarity, and to raise awareness, I asked them to commit to searching out other stories of Americans of African descent who had been killed for breathing, walking, buying, selling, driving, or having a registered gun in an open carry state. Throughout the week we posted their names, dates, and what they were doing- playing, sleeping, praying- to the Wall of Solidarity. At the end of the week we began our meeting by saying their names. Kayla, LaQuan, Michelle, Tywanza, …
This was just the beginning. The killing, the anger and pain continued. I continued to be vulnerable and expose that hurt and despair to my colleagues. I had never been so open at work. I wrote emotional emails and thought, maybe this too much or inappropriate for work. Then I thought, oh well, and hit send. My colleagues responded with agreement, outrage, and willingness to listen and engage. This was possible, not just because I used my voice, but also because I was in an org where I felt safe enough to do it. Then I kept on.
I started a weekly newsletter that I sent to the casual staff list. It’s called Keep Going and highlights good things- settlements, accountability, accomplices; bad things- murders, Anti-Black Racism, racist policies; and ways to examine, act, and engage in the fight. I also started collecting stories of people’s lived experiences of Anti-Black Racism at Stanford. The impetus was healing. The great Dr. Maya Angelou said, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you”. In these times, this hits different. Black, Indigenous, People of Color, we have to build, fortify, and protect our mental health. I wanted people to have an outlet and to no longer be isolated in their pain. Did I really add a link to the story collection form in my email signature?! Yes, I did and it reads, ‘I have experienced Anti-Black Racism at Stanford. Have you? Have you witnessed it? Please share here’. That email sig+ a Breonna Taylor background for online meetings? My director gave me a (virtual) high-five and thanked me for being a leader. This is the type of safety that I have within my org and I am deeply grateful for it. Multiple conversations over the past few months highlighted for me what a blessing and rarity that is. I really do get to bring my entire self to work.
Despite an executive order by an outgoing-president, that wrongly characterizes racism as “inherent”, I have been encouraged to keep doing what I’m doing. A word to anyone who wants to get started, to someone who stands in solidarity but wants to be propelled into action, start where you’re at. It began with a vulnerable email to my org, then a step for healing to my community, continues with a newsletter to all who have opted in, and culminated in a program to fight Anti-Black Racism that is ready to pilot. Keep going and “do not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up”- Galatians 6:9.
