We don't need perfection. We need action.
I've been trying to write this email all week. There have been so many editions, so many attempts at getting it just right. Right language. Right tone. Naming the national imperative of taking up anti-racist work in just the right way to stir you without offending.
But honestly, there is no place for perfection in the fight for justice.
We are being called to stand in solidarity with black people and communities of color to end the systemic oppression and racial injustices they've endured for generations. And to allow our fear, discomfort, guilt or perfectionism to get in the way of this work is just another example of privilege.
Our job here is to bravely, respectfully and humbly offer care in every way we can.
Care looks like:
Saying the names of George Floyd, Tony McDade, Ahmaud Arbery, Beonna Taylor, David McAtee, Sean Reed and every other person who has fallen at the hands of racial violence
Uncovering and fighting against white, supremacist patriarchy
Defending underserved populations
Supporting protesters
Challenging the inherent biases we all have
Demanding investment in systems of care
Acknowledging privilege and using it for good
To take this care into focused action, we can:
Donate to organizations working towards justice. (Donate here to end national police violence. Here to end Oakland police violence. Here to support people of color in Minneapolis/Minnesota.)
Listen to and uplift BIPOC voices.
Seek out and support BIPOC artists, craftspeople, restaurants and businesses.
Educate yourself and your children about systemic racism, oppression and white supremacy. (Check out this 21 day racial equity challenge and THIS incredibly thorough document with countless resources on books to read, podcasts to listen to, organizations to follow and films to watch.)
My prayer for us all is that we each, imperfectly, pick up the work of anti-racism and never put it down. May our actions help build systems of care that buoy us and may we embrace and draw strength from this work as a universal journey that frees us all.
For as the great civil rights activist Ella Baker said, "We are not fighting for the freedom of the Negro alone, but for the freedom of the human spirit, a larger freedom that encompasses all mankind."
Stay safe and take good care.
If you enjoyed this post, please keep reading!
As a self care coach, schedule buffering is one of my go to self care tips after a big presentation, after a work trip, after solo parenting, after a holiday party, and after any sort of transition. I make sure to enter slowly. I don't over commit. I leave LOTS of space for me to take it easy and move at a slower pace rather than slamming into the next thing after having just put so much out.
Women are uniquely tasked with carefully navigating the way we interact with the people around us. We aren't to make anyone mad. We can't let anyone down. We mustn't offend anyone. Don't even think of hurting anyone's feelings. And don't you dare inconvenience anyone.
Truth is, many of us are amazing shit-picker-uppers. It doesn’t matter who the shit belongs to, if someone drops a steaming pile of it in front of us, we always pick it up. Always.
I've been thinking a lot about change recently. It's as if every time I catch my breath and get used to life "as it is", something shifts. There's a change in the world. A change in my 3 year old's sleep pattern. A change in my body. A change in the law.
Change, change, everywhere change.
In my 15 years of coaching I've had countless clients ask me, "If I know I want to be less controlling in my life, why do I keep defaulting to it?" There are a number of reasons why we seek to control. Many of us developed controlling behaviors as children to create a sense of stability and safety in an otherwise chaotic/unsafe environment.
For most of my life I toggled between wanting to be a "good girl" and wanting to tell people (and systems) to leave me the f*ck alone. It was a hard line to walk with one part of me wanting to be liked and held in "high-standing" and the other feeling put upon, judged and resenting it.
Question for you: What were you taught about slowness? Perhaps you were taught that slowness is a form of laziness. Perhaps you internalized the message that going slow is a waste of precious time. Maybe you see slowness as the antithesis of productivity or worse, that slowness is a reflection of low intelligence.
Since January began, my partner Adam and I have been randomly looking at each other and making an exasperated "BLAH!" face. It's the face we use when either of us is feeling uninspired, listless or just, well, BLAH.
As the days shorten we find our bodies naturally craving slowness and inwardness.
This conversation is between myself and an incredible woman named Ani, who shares how she learned how to be authentic, practice self-compassion, and take up space without guilt or shame through my 6-month group coaching program, Homecoming. Ani is a model for how to excavate internalized misogyny and live authentically without fear of others’ opinions. The conversation originally took place on podcast, The Path Home.