My j-o-b is to do anti-racism work, to facilitate transformation in people and the systems in which they work. It is a weird job to have, to be sure, but so deeply purposeful. It is who I am, and I am grateful to have a platform to be of service to truth. To carry on the work in the shadows of Elders, Ancestors, Freedom-Fighters, Abolitionists, Healers, Widsom Makers and Keepers, and fellow Edge-Walkers.
One of the most painful parts of this work is the amount of creative bobbing+weaving that is required to get white people to show up, to design activities that are deeply reflective and transformative, but "not woo-woo" (as many white people have told me), to create spaces for change and dialogue that are within the confines of socially (white) accepted culturally appropriated personal change, to accommodate the inherited white patriarchial norms that confine and colonize what change looks like.
It is so heartbreaking and mindbending to create spaces for Black, Indigenous, and People of Many Beautiful Colors healing in the midst of the fire, while we are choking and our lungs burning. But I do, and we do. Because our labor is where our liberation sits. Our willingness to try to heal, to show up, to talk and explore, to shift is where our being thrives.
And now, as a new reckoning comes into question - to feel like there are almost no tools left except the masters...? This is the heartbreak.
And yet, the work to activate tools of liberation, to emanate love and build a movement, to heal ourselves by speaking truth - this is the work.
The work nourishes hope (hope is not a precondition to action). The work sets us free. My place in the arc of history is one I refuse to relinquish. #mylaborismyjoyfulprotest