It’s Not Antiracism Without Action

Hi Friends,

I hope you are finding joy this holiday season. I have been thinking about a couple of things that I want to digest with you. I’m also including a “What I’m Reading” section at the end because my inbox has been a storage unit for so many amazing resources I have come across since October and I really want to share them with you before the new year.

I’m going to talk about harm in this post and I want to clarify something. I am not talking about harm caused to “others” in a way that perpetuates pity and its own kind of marginalization. The harm I speak about harms each and every one of us. The person being judged for their race is harmed and the person doing the judging is harmed. Harm is not one-directional; every harmful action has an impact, on the target, on the perpetrator, and on every bystander/witness. The degree and nature of the impact might be different; all of it is harm. I want to remove the assumption in our language of this idea of a perpetually downtrodden group of people who need our goodwill in order to thrive. Each and every person in this world has an inherent vibrant brilliance. Our work is to change behaviors and systems and to remove those barriers so that every brilliant star has the opportunity to shine. This is not savior work — this is liberation for each and every one of us.

The first thing I’ve been thinking about are the phrases “It was another time” and “They were a product of their time” when speaking about books/movies/relatives. I believe that there can be a balance between rejecting past popular works and engaging with them in the context of the time in which they were created despite their harmful content. It’s more complicated with people, especially loved ones who are no longer with us, with whom we cannot have conversations or ask questions.

We cannot let those phrases stand as excuses for behavior/content that was harmful then and is harmful now. These phrases center the discomfort of the speaker rather than the impact of the action. They also ignore the fact that so many people, even in these “other times,” were working for equality, for freedom, for social justice, for civil rights, for better lives for each and every one of us. They were also products of their time. We can recognize the pain of the knowledge that people we loved harmed others in repugnant ways AND we can draw strength from the sacrifices and determination of people who worked for change. We get to choose which ancestral paths we continue to walk and which ones we leave behind.

The second thing I’ve been thinking about is the requirement of action in antiracism. A new connection I made here in Denver, who has a lifetime of advocacy experience and who I am so grateful to know, MiDian Holmes, made this so clear to me in a recent conversation. She asked whether the conversation would be different if someone said they were “anti-rapist” and described the actions they would take to show that they were not only against rape in theory, but would act to prevent it from happening. They would speak up if someone made threats, they would interfere if they witnessed it happening, they would advocate for changes to systems that allowed it to happen. She uses this scenario in her consulting work to encourage people to understand how their actions/inaction impact whether or not they are being antiracist and how they can make changes accordingly.

If we stay in our antiracist work where we are most comfortable, then we are not pushing for change the way we must. Educating ourselves is important self-work, and essential for informing how we show up, but then we must show up, repeatedly and consistently, without stopping except for moments of self-care. When I asked MiDian how White people were creating the most barriers to her antiracism work, she said “They stop. They get tired. They don’t keep doing the work.”

We cannot stop, my friends. Antiracism is a lifestyle, a lifelong commitment, that in all likelihood will not change anything significantly during our lifetimes. It is hard, worthwhile work. If we are successful, if we do not give up, then those who come after us will have better lives for the work we have done. And we will continue the work of so many, generation after generation, who have worked in solidarity and love for liberation for all.

What I’m Reading:
I appreciate updates from Anti-Racism Daily so much, here are a few of my recent favorites:
- by Dominique Stewart, “Why Empathy is Important for Social Change” (10/12/22)
- by Andrew Lee, “The 1619 Project and Correcting U.S. History” (10/25/22)
- by Andrew Lee, “The Criminalization of Sharing in Public” (11/2/22)
- by Andrew Lee, “Recessions, Explained” (11/30/22), which taught me a lot about the cyclical pattern of the economy and how that serves wealthy people and how it harms systemically impacted people.
- by Andrew Lee, “Tiny from POOR Magazine on Radical Redistribution” (12/1/22), which clarifies the difference between charity and redistribution and how important it is who controls how funds given are spent.
Also, I’m donating to this and other fabulous resources I have found this year. Please join me!

Education Equity:
- Mary Kadera wrote about a book called The End of Average by Todd Rose and her words helped illustrate for me just how essential equity in education (and so many other things) is: because no one is average, and our system teaches to the average, we’re not serving any student fully or adequately. A complete overhaul of our education system and the way it is funded is needed to address this.
- The Learning Policy Institute shared about a new book by David Kirp called Disrupting Disruption: The Steady Work of Transforming Schools (10/18/22)
- Eugene Robinson wrote about the test score results shared by the NAEP and called attention to the fact that scores dropped in every state, but the most impactful thing he said was, “Higher-performing students — those who lost less ground — were significantly more likely than low performers to have full-time access to a computer or tablet; to have high-speed internet access; to have a quiet place to do their homework; to have a teacher available remotely to help them almost every day; and to have an adult help them in person with their schoolwork at least once or twice a week. … Wealthy, highly educated parents are going to do everything in their power to educate their children. Less affluent parents in financially strapped school districts will need federal and state aid to keep up. The last thing this country needs is more inequality.”
- Moms Rising hosted a webinar called “Saving Our Schools: Activating Parents in an Age of CRT-Backlash” and you can watch the recording (10/25/22).

- Right to Learn Resources from the ACLU related to fighting censorship in schools.
- The SPLC’s Learning for Justice Magazine includes some really great topics around “Expanding Democracy Through Intersecting Movements” in its fall issue.
- Chris Talbot-Heindl wrote about how to be pro-Indigenous in a season of “rampant anti-Indigeneity” (10/10/22).
- Service Never Sleeps shared that they contribute a land tax to the Indigenous tribe(s) they currently occupy. You can calculate your contribution here.
- The Indigenous Solidarity Network hosted a webinar called “Rethinking Thanksgiving: From Land Acknowledgement to LANDBACK” and you can watch the recording (11/20/22) or check out the “Rethinking Thanksgiving” toolkit.
- Garrett Bucks wrote about Tema Okun’s “Characteristics of White Supremacy” work in a really thoughtful way (10/11/22).

I found Lyz Lenz’s post called “Dividing Women Against Themselves” haunting and painful and so necessary to read. It’s not about racism, but it is about the way people who are systemically impacted are divided against each other and themselves in order for those in power to stay in power. We can’t change it until we see it.

If you’re seeking some light and hope and resilience as the days are darker and things seem bleak, read this update from the Catalyst Project and Mab Segrest (10/20/22). I know I needed it and I imagine you do, too.

Please reach out to me if you want a thought partner/sounding board. This work is challenging and we are stronger together. I’m here for you.

Emily
Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.

Perfectionism is Silencing Me

Hi Friends,

I apologize for my long absence. The first few months of the school year have been more demanding than in the past (something about having kids in two different schools in two different districts…). I’ve been thinking about all of you, especially as we crash headlong into another election cycle, but also every time I struggle with something because I imagine you may be struggling, too.

And I have been struggling, which is why I haven’t been writing to you.

I have been devoting more time and energy in understanding my own barriers and challenges in anti-racism work, particularly perfectionism. Perhaps it’s because I’m starting from almost zero in building local relationships here in Denver, and perhaps partially because so many opportunities to connect are still virtual, but it has been more challenging than I had hoped to start building multicultural, multiracial relationships of solidarity with my community members.

And my struggles here have undermined my belief that my words and actions make a difference to anyone else because the voice in my head tells me that I am not enough.

Part of the challenge in building solidarity is unsurprising — our communities are segregated, even in more integrated school settings, so my neighbors and the people who I interact with on a daily basis are mostly like me, at least on the surface. I am not organically pulled into relationship with people who have a very different lived experience than mine. And yes, I choose sometimes to place myself in different spaces in hopes of creating these opportunities, and that’s when perfectionism undermines me.

I am acutely aware of how I show up in majority BIPOC spaces. I am aware that my mere presence might pose a potential threat. Even with my significant work to learn antiracist behavior, I can still harm others with a careless/ignorant word or action. To be clear, without exception, whether known or a stranger, I have been welcomed into these spaces, sometimes joyously so, and it has always been a humbling and affirming experience. Even so, my fear of causing harm can be petrifying and prevents me from showing up authentically, limiting my ability to build relationships.

In October, I volunteered to help set up an NAACP Halloween party with the local Denver chapter. I had joined the chapter right away after we moved and I had been watching for an opportunity to participate. It was so energizing to be in a majority BIPOC space again and I appreciated the opportunity to work alongside chapter members and create a fun event for local kids. I paid attention to how I was showing up, following rather than leading, engaging in conversation and trying to be thoughtful and present.

Throughout, I understood the underlying fact that in order to be in solidarity with people, showing up at one event is not enough. Building relationships moves “at the speed of trust” (adrienne marie brown in Emergent Strategy) and that takes time, showing up consistently and often. And, perhaps equally importantly, it is not the job of other people to validate me or tell me that I’m a “good white person” so that I feel like I’m doing the right thing. Showing up and building trust never end.

I am both furious about and grieving for what white supremacy has taken from me, taken from each and every one of us. The barriers and challenges lie like so many landmines and broken glass between us, interfering in our efforts to build true community with each other.

It is also deeply personal. The persistent undermining voice in my head points out all of the mistakes I have made, the time and energy I am not investing, the urgency and sense of futility that creeps in, the knowledge that any single significant shift is unlikely in my lifetime. The voice reminds me constantly that I am a potential danger to people around me because I haven’t read all of the books or articles, I haven’t listened to all of the podcasts, I haven’t talked to enough people yet or listened to enough activists. The voice says that I have nothing to contribute, no experience or perspective to offer, no ability to change the world around me.

I have been listening to that voice for too long, allowing it to silence me.

So, with each of you as a witness, I am fighting back. I have never truly wavered from antiracism work since I committed to changing my life and my community in 2014. It has become too much a part of me, every decision, every interaction, every hope and dream. I have been so grateful to have found an inclusive and welcoming new school community for my youngest two children and I hope to find a similar community for my eldest next year. They do exist and they give me hope that our work does make a difference.

I will continue to reach out to education equity connections locally and more widely, as that is still where my passion is strongest. I will breathe and be patient with the pace of change, even as I push myself to keep things moving forward. I will also remember that raising my children to be more antiracist than I am is more impactful than I give myself credit for.

I will also allow grace and gentleness with myself, especially when I struggle. I will reach for solidarity rather than perfection, relationship rather than loneliness. I will allow myself to be the messy person I am and reserve judgment when people around me are also messy and imperfect. I will listen to understand, not to convince, and work to find common ground in every conversation.

Will you join me? I would love to feel your hand on my back (thank you Christine D’Ercole) as we move forward into whatever the future has in store for us.

Emily
Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.

PS. Apparently I should have listened more to my pre-pandemic voice from February 2020: “Do Not Let The Perfect Be The Enemy of The Good”

New (School) Beginnings

Hi Friends,

Welcome to the new school year! We moved two of our kiddos to a more integrated school this year (my eldest will wait another year before we move her to a more integrated middle school), so there were a lot of changes yet again for our family and our connections to school communities. As you might imagine, I’m still working on educational equity efforts and I have learned a lot in the last year about what this landscape looks like in Denver.

I am also still connected with efforts specifically to address inequities in private funding of public schools. This article in Romper, by Sarah Jaffe, was really helpful to read. I’m still learning from advocates across the country who are undertaking these efforts in their areas. I’m also encouraged to find an appetite for addressing this specific issue in other organizations, including at our very white segregated school and at Integrated Schools, and at council and state level PTAs, as well as the school district’s foundation.

And to continue my learning about education equity in general, I’m also slowly making my way through the Integrated Schools podcasts. Every time I make the time for these, I am struck by how so many smart people are working on these issues and I am encouraged to continue my efforts. We are not alone. I also read more about Community Schools, in this article from The Hechinger Report by Emily Woods.

While I didn’t have a lot of personal inspirational work in the last month or so, I have been reading some really great things that have challenged my thinking. I finished reading Debby Irving’s Waking Up White, which I highly recommend, and her website has some great resources, including “21-Day Racial Equity Habit Building Challenges” that I encourage you to check out. I learned about an organization called Braver Angels, which encourages conversations across lines of division for greater understanding and compassion.

Please also remember that Service Never Sleeps is holding its next Allyship Summit this October 26–27. You can learn more and register here.

I am wowed every day by the impactful updates from Anti-Racism Daily, particularly these:

- Don’t have a plantation wedding. This update includes ways to reconsider how Thanksgiving is celebrated by you and your loved ones this year. Read it now, even though that’s a couple of months away, because it will likely take intentional rethinking and convincing if you want to make changes to your traditions.

- Support equitable school funding.

- Reflect before reaching out. I needed to be reminded of this because it’s so easy, when something happens in our country, to reflexively reach out to people to “show” you’re a good person instead of taking a few minutes to reflect and really think about why you’re reaching out.

Use this new school year to identify the one or two things you want to throw your energy into and bring others along with you! Let me know if I can help.

Emily
Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.

Isolation Undermines Survival

Hi Friends,

I have been thinking a lot about what it means to live in a community, but not to be in community with our neighbors.

What I have observed and experienced about affluent White parenting is how isolating it is, how competitive and closed-off it can be as families hoard information and resources and scramble to get “the best” for their kids. These tendencies reach beyond parenting and into white supremacy culture generally.

Something about the affluent part is key. A friend talked to me about growing up in poverty and how community was naturally built because everyone depended on each other, for childcare, for errands, for basic necessities, for job opportunities. They had these struggles in common and they worked to alleviate the challenges for each other, as a group. Isolation in that context had clear negative consequences.

My experience of becoming affluent has led to an understanding that the more financial security we have, the less we need each other for support because we can just buy it/hire it/delegate it. We are more isolated from our community because we are self-sufficient, we have everything we need. Except we don’t.

We lose one of the most valuable things about being a human being. We lose connection. We lose meaningful relationships based on mutual respect and love and interdependence. It takes effort to find connections with our peers that go beyond hoarding and wealth and competition.

I read an article about how people survive during and after natural disasters and while wealth can make a difference, “it is the personal ties among members of a community that determine survival during a disaster, and recovery in its aftermath.” As climate change threatens communities all over the world, our ties to our communities will prove to be our lifelines in many different ways.

It’s also about being White. White supremacy culture teaches individualism, pushing the idea that anyone can succeed if they work hard and that success is only because of an individual’s actions or choices. This is an isolating way to see the world, encouraging competition and severing interconnectedness. This is not how humans have survived for hundreds of thousands of years and it is not how we will continue to survive the many challenges ahead of us.

I’m slowly reading Debby Irving’s Waking Up White and she writes partially about how White culture encourages people not to depend on each other, to be self-sufficient because that’s what success looks like. To depend on others means to be a failure in some way. And yet, one of the contradictions of white supremacy culture is that one of the reasons White people have the privileges they do is because of the way White people support each other, with bank loans, job recommendations, educational opportunities, and a myriad of other ways that the systems in place support the hopes and dreams and efforts of White people over those of everyone else.

White people end up being doubly isolated by white supremacy from those outside of our segregated communities and by our own individualism within our communities.

So many things are isolating us from each other right now. The pandemic and remote work has been isolating for many people in ways that are obvious and in much smaller ways. Our focus on our phones and on technology in general can make us feel like we’re connecting with people, but it is more often negative and undermining of our love for humanity than it is positive and love-affirming. We often pay more attention to our devices than to others in our household.

Our interactions with people tend to be more transactional — the delivery person, the ride-share driver, the mail delivery person, the wait-staff, the person scanning our groceries. How many times in the last month have you tried to connect in a meaningful way with one of these people? How does your conversation contribute to your connections with each other?

I’m making a lot of assumptions and generalizations here, and maybe you have a robust, interconnected community, and if so, that’s wonderful. Keep it going. But I’m an introvert and I know there are a lot of potential barriers to what I’m suggesting here. So please, however you feel comfortable, choose at least one or two people to connect with in a more meaningful way than you have before. And if that goes well, choose another one or two. Make a point of showing some love and kindness to someone outside of your current community. And look inside and consider the connections you have inside your community. Are these relationships what you want them to be?

Are you living in a community as an isolated household, or are you in community with your neighbors and fellow humans? If you need inspiration, I suggest Crowded Table by The Highwomen. It brings me to tears. Every time. We cannot have solidarity if we don’t even know each other.

Emily
Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.

Reproductive Justice is Part of Liberation

Hi Friends,

Little did I know when I wrote about grief last time, that it would only be compounded further only a few weeks later. I hope you are taking time to process what you’re feeling and that you are kind and patient with yourself.

I need to take my own advice. Having my kids home for the summer has meant that I find fewer opportunities alone for me to openly process my outrage, my grief, my refusal to accept a world in which my (currently female identifying) children will have fewer rights than I have had in my lifetime. I can tell that my emotions are close to the surface and ready to be freed. After I dropped my kids off at camp for the day and got back in the car this morning, the tears started falling, even before my music (a “Power Mix” I created in November 2016) turned on.

My mantra for this work, “Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.” applies to all justice work, including reproductive justice. Please seek out local organizations that are helping people get the access they need to health care services. Large national orgs have huge endowments and are not as dependent upon donations as small, independent nonprofits are. Support those who are already doing this work, however you are able.

Whatever your stance on abortion, it is undeniable now (if it ever was) that women in our country are oppressed, alongside/overlapping with additionally marginalized people who will experience increased oppression more acutely than White women will. A majority of the population in the United States is now overtly oppressed by the racist, sexist, and misogynistic systems in place.

White, straight, cis-gendered men have the most power in our culture and must be part of liberation work, just as White people must be part of anti-racism work. To use a comic book cliche, with great power comes great responsibility. So the question becomes, are you an oppressor or a liberator? Will you ignore or deny oppression or will you work in solidarity with those who resist it? Just as with anti-racism work, if you are silent then you are complicit.

If you’re ready to take action, here are some suggestions:

- White Awake training for White Men

- See this Teen Vogue article for guidance in supporting community organizing and collaborative work.

- If you’re thinking about how to be an organizer in your community and how to work towards a community where everyone is welcome, consider Garrett Buck’s questions.

- How to Show Up For Abortion Access

- Work on supporting related issues like affordable child care, universal healthcare, paid family and medical leave, contraception access, expansion of SNAP programs, a federally funded school lunch program, a permanent child care tax credit, and maternal mortality rates especially for marginalized populations.

Whatever you feel about abortion, the work needed now is about inclusion.
The work needed now is about how we take care of each other.
The work needed now is about finding common ground to ensure that everyone has what they need.

The work needed now is not about vilifying everyone who disagrees with you. From a newsletter by Loretta J. Ross (7/14/22, emphasis mine): “As Fania E. Davis said in The Little Book of Race and Restorative Justice: Black Lives, Healing, and US Social Transformation (Justice and Peacebuilding), ‘A punitive, vengeful response harms us psychologically.’ It also harms us as a society if we continue to inflict harm on each other with our unhealed and unaddressed traumas. We must protect the human rights of the person who was harmed, as well as those of the person who committed the harm. We must recognize that harm to another is also self-harm because of our interrelatedness.”

If we want a better outcome, a better life for everyone in this country, we have to stop attacking each other, find common ground, and work together to make it happen. White supremacy is doing everything it can to divide us. Do not let it.

Please also invest your time and energy in voting rights efforts, bolster up our democracy so that a small minority of people cannot dictate their values and priorities to a majority that does not agree with them. Change can happen on every scale, locally, regionally, and nationally. But it will not happen if we take our form of government for granted or if we spend our time yelling at each other. Take steps to engage in positive actions that reaffirm the way you want our country to be. Envision it and work in that direction. And bring as many people as you can along with you.

Emily
Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.

The Power of Names and Grief

Hi Friends,

My heart has been so heavy, like something is pressing on my chest. Emotional grief, compounded with the onset of covid in our household, has had me focusing on everyday activities and very little else for the last couple of weeks.

Even so, there are moments of clarity. The power of names and the power of grief, for example.

The act of naming things can be a path to truth, which can lead to growth. Naming an institution’s role in upholding the system of slavery. Naming the dynamics in a relationship as abusive. Naming historical and current realities of one’s lived experience.

Names are also memory and legacy. Many families name their children after beloved ancestors, linking past and present in a person’s identity. Sometimes names cause families to protect a particular reputation or status that the legacy of their name has achieved, often tailoring to the point of a break with reality. The names of schools, roads, and institutions declare who should be remembered.

Names and their use carry the power of being seen or erased. Using a person’s chosen name (and their associated pronouns) or refusing to. Renaming enslaved people or indigenous children in boarding schools using English/western conventions, erasing their cultural identities and connections. Removing last names, breaking a familial connection, uprooting people and separating them from each other. Erasing an aspect of people’s humanity.

So when a deadly event occurs, it is right to name the victims of violence, to commit their names to our memories, to choose to never forget them. To let their names, their humanity, propel us forward in making changes that will prevent another such event. It should make us pause and consider — how will our names be remembered?

There is another set of names to be considered and how we use them can have a particular power. Naming perpetrators, naming slaveholders, naming legislators. Holding people accountable for their action/inaction, showing them that their names and the ways they are remembered are not guaranteed to be positive or lasting.

For example, John Boozman, Mo Brooks, Mike Crapo, Rand Paul, Donald Bacon, Andy Barr, Cliff Bentz, Michael Burgess, John Carter, Madison Cawthorn, Michael Cloud, Andrew Clyde, Rick Crawford, Dan Crenshaw, Jake Ellzey, Pat Fallon, Drew Ferguson, Mike Flood, Virginia Foxx, Tony Gonzales, Kay Granger, Marjorie Greene, Brett Guthrie, French Hill, Richard Hudson, Jr., Patrick McHenry, Carol Miller, Greg Murphy, Troy Nehls, Greg Pence, Hal Rogers, Mike Rogers, David Rouzer, Chip Roy, Pete Sessions, Mike Simpson, Adrian Smith, Van Taylor, GT Thompson, Jr., Beth Van Duyne, Randy Weber, Sr., Steve Womack (US Senators and Representatives endorsed by the NRA in 2022).

So now for the power of grief. Based on my observations of American culture, our social conventions around grief demand restraint, control, expression of emotions only in private. In many cultures around the world, grief is shown in public lamentation, in community expressions of loss. What would it look like for our communities to express our grief in a more public way, to stop hiding our tears and our wails and our screams? What would it look like to speak the names of those who have died through voices that break with the knowledge of humanity lost? What would it look like to chant the names of those who allow violence in our communities, in our schools, to continue unchallenged, to call them out ritually, publicly, as part of our expression of grief and outrage?

In times like this, we must use our voices and our power in any way we can find, including (and maybe especially) in ways that make those in power uncomfortable.

Emily
Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.

We Are Not Powerless

Hi Friends,

This is not about Buffalo and it is about Buffalo. That’s because Buffalo (and so many more) is about each and every one of us. And I’m not sure I even know what to say. But since I am a White person, I know that my role is to speak to my people, so here goes.

I went to the grocery store today. The entire time I was there, I was acutely, painfully aware of how powerless I felt, how deeply my heart ached that I am constantly, actively and passively separated from being in true community with my neighbors because of the white supremacist culture we are all harmed by.

There are barriers to building those relationships everywhere we look, including inside ourselves. My heartache is always there, just freshly exposed by the most recent racist violence. These wounds we suffer cannot heal when they are reopened over and over again with new names of community members murdered and new locations of tragedy to tally in our national consciousness.

I also understand how essential it is that I use every ounce of my willpower and determination to ensure that anti-racist work continues and grows and that each and every one of us participates in dismantling white supremacy. And I honestly don’t know what to say to encourage more people to start and/or continue the self-work and community work that is needed. But I refuse to give up, so here I am, writing to each of you.

This work is both urgent and long-term, and while it is happening in many places, we need to keep going, to keep doing more. White supremacy culture influences everything we do, every institution and organization and government office and it fights back when challenged. And yet it must be challenged or it will continue to spread and grow and harm and kill. Do not imagine that “good people” will be spared from its effects — we are each already harmed and often blinded to that harm. Choose to see the harm so that you can choose to fight against it.

If you’re already feeling overwhelmed because you’re already fighting for something else, do not see this as an “extra” cause to take on. See it as a shift in the WAY you fight for justice, in whatever manner inspires and sustains you. If you’re focused on reproductive rights, do it in an anti-racist way. If you’re focused on environmental justice and combating climate change, do it in an anti-racist way. If you’re focused on educational equity, do it in an anti-racist way. If you’re focused on politics or criminal justice or housing or poverty or hunger or anything else you’re focused on, do it in an anti-racist way.

Do you know how? What barriers do you face to doing this work?

Some oversimplified guidance for White people doing anti-racist work:
(1) Commit to the self-work for the rest of your life. Keep learning, keep apologizing, keep unlearning biases and assumptions, keep growing. Use self-care so you don’t burn out.

(2) Don’t do this work alone. Find others who will support you, help you grow, listen to your failures and struggles, and encourage you to keep going. If you don’t have a person like this in your life, contact me and I’ll be that person for you.

(3) Choose solidarity (doing with) over helping/supporting (doing for). Build relationships with the communities you want to work with in an inclusive way, following existing leadership and trusting people to know where they want to go.

(4) Wherever you are, show up in an anti-racist way and be open to adjusting as you earn the trust of those you are working with. Earn that trust every day in the way you show up, the way that you grow, the way that you listen.

Ok, here’s the hardest one (again, for White people):
(5) DO NOT exclude people who disagree with you or challenge your beliefs. Turning people away, excluding people and banishing them because they aren’t on an anti-racist path yet (or as “woke” as you) will always undermine our efforts. We must be welcoming to all because white supremacy will always make white people feel like they belong, even as it harms them.

Anti-racist efforts must be as inclusive as we want our communities and institutions and governments to be. We must model the solidarity and liberation of the world we are trying to create. As my dear friend Whitney taught me several years ago, do not allow your anti-racist work to send people towards racism. Bring them with you.

Emily
Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.

Solidarity with Honesty and Compassion

Hi Friends,

I hope you’re all well and finding your way clear-eyed and hopeful. One month until summer!

I have been circling around a few themes this month that I wanted to share with you. The first is how important memory and history are to our current understanding of the world and to our ability to solve our problems. It is essential that we advocate actively for honest history and for honoring those we would want to be in solidarity with if they were still alive.

For example, Simon Maghakyan writes “Opinion: This unsung Colorado hero is actually worthy of memorializing” about Silas Soule, who refused to participate in the Sand Creek Massacre and testified against its perpetrators, likely resulting in his assassination in 1865 when he was 26 year old.

Learning for Justice Magazine, Issue 2, Spring 2022 “explores various perspectives on teaching honest history: what happens when we don’t, how educators are overcoming attempts to stop it, views from communities who are often left out of these conversations — namely rural and Indigenous — and why it matters.”

And in encouraging news, Cathryn Strout writes “Tennessee is close to becoming the next state to require Black History education.” Perhaps this is a model other states can use to address curriculum deficits.

While we’re thinking about schools (one of my favorite topics!), I wanted to share that The Urban Institute has two fabulous and eye-opening interactive tools:

- “Which Students Receive a Greater Share of School Funding?” can be used to understand state by state how progressive funding is for low income students, urban/rural students, and students of color in public schools.

- “How Much Does Your School Contribute to Segregation?” can be used to understand how your school compares to your district’s racial demographics. It can also help you find a school that is more integrated and/or more accurately reflects your district’s demographics if you’re open to making a different school choice.

After finding ourselves zoned for a very segregated school here in Denver when we relocated here last summer, we are exploring schools nearby that better reflect the student demographics of the district overall. This is a complex, personal process, taking many things into account, and I’m happy to answer questions you might have if you’re curious to learn. I just know that my kids need to learn in an environment that looks more like their diverse, heterogeneous community, not their current homogenous school, in order to prepare them to live and work and be in solidarity with their future communities.

To encourage all of you to advocate for our public education system, check out the HEAL Together Pledge — for solidarity with others who believe that we need to advocate for robust, fully funded, honest public education for our children. I hope it will inspire you to take action locally or beyond.

And finally, I have been consciously working to incorporate more humanity and compassion into my life and my work. It is hard for me to unlearn a punitive way of responding to behavior from others that makes me uncomfortable (often from my children!). A punitive approach separates people from each other when they are struggling and is steeped in white supremacy. I have been learning more about restorative justice and there are resources out there for applying this approach to families! Check these out.

I am also grateful for Elisabeth Long’s “Bringing Our Humanity to the Long Work of Change” — a conversation between Suzanne Pharr and Linda Evans. Here’s a small piece, “Building community is critically important for the rejuvenation of all of our people, but also because these circles are places where organizing takes place, and momentum takes place towards solving the problems that we’re suffering from.”

May you each build a community that loves you and nourishes your work.

Emily
Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.