I was recently sitting on my couch watching Michelle Obama’s Becoming and I found myself smiling, crying and laughing . . . and it felt good. It felt good to express my emotions- unhinged and uninhibited. I needed that expression because seeing your black and brown community dying left and right without justice is heavy.
I have sat and met with different leaders, colleagues, acquaintances, and friends to discuss this racist pandemic and every conversation begins with them asking, “How are you?”
And you know what, I’m exhausted.
But contrary to popular belief, the exhaustion started way before this most recent Black Lives Matter moment. I’ve been tired for a while.
- I was tired when I walked into my first corporate job and was the only black woman in my department.
- I was tired when another woman in that department thought it was funny to come up to me to ask about the black men that she dated and what she should expect with their personal grooming habits.
- I was tired when I held up a GQ magazine cover with the actor Idris Elba’s face on the front and my co-worker said, “I’m not up on football, I don’t know who that is.”
- I was tired when another co-worker accidentally touched my curly hair and said, “Oh! It’s so soft” but didn’t have a response when I asked her what she expected it to be.
- I was tired every time a leader said to me, “You were so articulate” because I couldn’t help but wonder if that was a compliment given to all the leaders who spoke that day or just the young black woman.
- I was tired when I sat in the meeting and a male leader told me “You’re really aggressive” when I was simply doing my job the same way my non-black co-workers did and even when he said that, no one else said a thing.
- I was tired when a co-worker picked up one of my braids without my permission then dropped it and wiped her fingers on her pants.
- I’m tired when I look at our senior leadership team and don’t see a face that looks like mine.
- I’m tired that I can count the number of Black leaders who are VP and above on one hand.
Yep, I’m tired; tired of the microaggressions and racist commentary that peppers corporate walls all around America. We need a change. But this need for change started before I grew tired of adding names to the long list of Black lives lost.
In 1960, there were four young black men who staged a sit-in in response to the brutal murder of Emmett Till. Other young black college students followed suit and staged a protest at a segregated Woolworth lunch counter in Greensboro in 1961. They were all denied service but refused to leave their seats, igniting a movement of lunch counter protests all throughout the south. That movement in history forced many companies like Woolworth to change their policies, impacting history, and the strength of the Civil Rights movement.
Like those four men, we must be a spark for change. We must fight the good fight when the hashtags die, the bright Black Lives Matter-painted streets fade and the world “opens back up.” We must refuse to grow weary even when the black boxes on Instagram are no longer in your newsfeed, businesses aren’t posting about their Black employees and anti-racist books are magically back in stock.
We have a responsibility to use our voices and roles in society to amplify the voices of others without the same opportunities. We need people in all spheres of the world to drive change within corporations, churches, schools, politics and more. Whether you protest, educate, entertain, or create – your voice can make a difference.
This may be uncomfortable for some of you to read. But I invite you to sit in the discomfort. Because discomfort can lead to curiosity. Curiosity can lead to questions. Questions can lead to education and education can lead to accountability. That accountability should lead to change.
What spark will you ignite?
