This Matters.

I’m just going to come right out of the gates with the bald truth here: I’m freaking terrified of writing this blog post. 

I feel 150% sure I’m going to do some part of this wrong and I’m so afraid of causing harm when I do. 

I hope and trust you to call me out on it, because I need to know. Because I need to make changes to how I move through our world.

Because our world needs changing and I need to be a part of that in ways both big and small.

A little over a week ago, Justin and I went up to our land in the North Cascades to take some unplugged time in the mountains. 

We don’t get internet or cell phone signal there.

It’s rural and isolated and we go there to escape the stresses and pressures of the busy and chaotic modern world.

Yesterday we came back. We plugged back in. And I immediately realized a few things:

  • The email & blog post that went out last Tuesday was inappropriate given the context of what was happening in the world. I apologize. Not okay.

  • I have benefited in so, so many ways from white privilege and have also often allowed myself to conveniently forget or disregard that fact.

  • I need to do better. Right now. And every day after this. For the rest of my life. 


I mean, just read that paragraph above. The one about going to our land and unplugging.

I keep thinking about all the ways just that single paragraph demonstrates my privilege: 

Even setting aside the fact that we had the means to purchase that land in the first place (i.e. the access to education, jobs, financial resources, etc), we feel safe in that small, quiet community tucked into the mountains. 

Which means that when Justin goes for a trail run and ends up being stopped by a stranger in a truck on a random logging road, he can interact with little fear for his personal safety. 

It means I can stay back and lay in a hammock and read my book without wondering if the love of my life will come home from his run. 

It means that we can exercise our bodies in a beautiful setting— activities well known to decrease stress levels (and all of the accompanying physical and mental issues that come with prolonged elevated stress) and facilitate connection and inspiration. 

It means that we return from that time away refreshed and energized and rested and able to do better work and think more clearly and live more creatively. 

Which means we are better equipped to do our jobs well, navigate difficult circumstances, manage relationships, etc. 

Which feeds that cycle of then having the increased creative and economic freedom to thrive financially and emotionally and continue to better our circumstances.

And I know that doesn’t cover a fraction of how this works. How a multi-tiered and multi-layered system has historically benefited me and set me up for success in ways that are wide-ranging and far-reaching.

So.

What now?

As far as I can tell, wallowing in the shame and talking about how I’ve benefited is, frankly, a cop out.

Action is what’s necessary. And not just action right now, during this week or next week or until another crisis gets our attention.

As it turns out, paying attention and working for change in one area is not mutually exclusive with paying attention and working for change in another.

Here’s where I’ve begun:

  • Began the work of setting aside my defensiveness and need to assert that I’m a “good person” and instead listening hard and beginning to more fully understand the ways I’ve profited from and contributed to harm

  • Signed the petition for transformation and donated to Black Lives Matter as well as added them to my ongoing Giving Back options.

  • Donated to The Bail Project

  • Signed the petition and donated to the Color of Change

  • Went through each link on The Obama Foundation’s Anguish and Action page to learn, to sign petitions, and to donate. I also downloaded and read the toolkit from the Leadership Conference Education Fund— this resource guide is an incredible place to begin when it comes to questions around policing and police practices and there was a lot in it I didn’t know.

  • Went to the Justice for Breonna website to sign the petition and get the contact info for Louisville, Kentucky mayor, Greg Fischer (Greg.Fischer@louisvilleky.gov⁣) and special prosecutor Daniel Cameron (attorney.general@ag.ky.gov⁣)— then I actually emailed using the script provided by the website as a jumping off point.

  • ⁣Began reading Ibram X. Kendi’How to Be an Antiracist— the process of unlearning is deeply uncomfortable and utterly necessary. This is the beginning of my education. I’m also working through Layla F. Saad’s White Supremacy and Me and it’s transformative.



This is where I’ve started. Not all in one day, but something everyday.

Because we’re all capable of doing something every single day.

Showing up. Having a conversation. Making a phone call. Signing a petition. Making a donation. Holding a sign. Demanding change. Educating ourselves. Staying receptive. Listening hard. Unlearning what we've been taught as part of a dysfunctional and oppressive system of harm.

We all have choices in our lives every single day. Tiny moments or big events. Spaces where we choose how we show up. For ourselves. For each other. For this world we live in.


Look.

I know it’s not enough. I know it’s not enough to send this email or write a blog post. I know it’s not enough to post some stuff to social media or simply talk about change or repost hashtags. 

I know that there is more to do. That much of it happens away from public view or applause.


This is lifelong learning and unlearning and calls for transformation on levels I’m only at the very edge of seeing. 

This is humbling, uncomfortable work. And I’m so deeply grateful for the opportunity to do it, to acknowledge my own contribution to suffering so that I can stopso that I can change, so that this world is safer and more just.

I’m leaning into my curiosity, into staying with openness and not retreating into deflection or defensiveness.

It is another mark of my privilege that I am able to learn about racism instead of having spent a lifetime experiencing it. 




Where are you in this work? What have I missed here? What can I do to support you? 

Let me know. We’re in this together.


Stay curious out there, my friend.