On Drivers, Passengers, and Road Trips

When you're in a position where you have privilege, power, positionality, or some combination of the three, you are more than likely the driver—the driver of your destiny, your learning, your unlearning, and your personal development and growth, which means your privilege allows you to actively and passively drive things for others who aren't as centrally positioned. But one thing most people seem to neglect thinking about is that when you have so much power as the driver, you need to recognize that half the time, you think you should be driving but would be better off as a passenger.

Being a good passenger is equally as crucial as being a conscientious driver.

Evolving as a person is more about how you engage and absorb information, insights, and uncomfortable truths about yourself and the world around you than it is about being in control of everything. As a passenger, I've learned and unlearned many things. By being humble enough to let someone else take the wheel and giving them an equal share of my power, privilege, and positionality, I have grappled with my discomfort, ignorance, and the hurdles to my growth and development. And I honored those drivers in those moments by paying them back for their time and energy, amplifying their voices, and sharing my own time, energy, and resources to let them be passengers when they wanted to be. If we're all claiming to be on the same road and heading to the same destination, we should be taking shifts as the driver and passenger to give everyone on the trip the chance to be heard, seen, supported, elevated, and to rest, especially those with less privilege, power, and positionality.

That's one of the best road trips, y'all.

That's the road trip to liberation for all.

Why I Didn't Post Anything on MLK Day

A white "professional" who follows me on social media dropped me a line yesterday to tell me they were surprised I hadn't posted anything on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. They're right: I didn't post anything on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Real talk?

I'm not obligated to post about Black sh—on a national holiday primarily created to appease Black communities by white politicians who wanted to feel like "good" white people.

I'm also not obligated to explain why I didn't post thoughts on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, especially to white people. But you know what? I will explain why because I'm feeling generous enough to put the anxiety and weight that the white person who reached out to me tried to put on my shoulders right back on theirs and teach 'em something while doing it.

You’re welcome in advance.

So why didn't I post anything on MLK Day?

Why bother?

Look, white folx. We [Black folx] have the same discussion about how y'all misappropriate quotes and belittle the words and works of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. with y'all every year. We have similar conversations with y'all about Dr. King and other Black luminaries that your grandparents hated and that you've deified and misinterpreted the work of all year long. We have to check y'all all the time on treating Black people like your Great Value gurus and "your spirit animals" on the other 364 days of the year (someone's Lord, don't get me started on the spirit animal thing). To be honest?

I have nothing else to teach you about the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. that I didn't teach y'all last year, the year before, and every year for at least the last decade.

You've likely forgotten what I said about this day last year. I could post the same message on my social media channels on MLK Day every year, and most of y'all will respond to it like it's new to you. Every Black person in the United States could post the same post we wrote together in a Google Doc annually, and only a few of y'all would catch it. And that's the problem.

Most of y'all aren't paying attention, learning, and doin' the work until we stop doin' it for you.

Us telling you not to sully the name of Dr. King on MLK Day is your security blanket. Us telling you to do better, be better, and dismantle the sh—you created is like comfort food. And once we don't do it? Y'all be around here actin' cold and hungry when you've got on a winter coat and didn't finish the first plate you grabbed in the buffet line.

Maybe you should finish digesting what me and mine have been sharing with y'all for years before you expect us to give you more of ourselves.

Holla at me when you begin to remotely respect the legacy and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Black U.S. America in general without needing an annual prompt.

Drop me a line when you respect the Free99 labor and energy Black folx give y'all and start taking in and processing the hard truths we've been giving y'all for over a century.

And stop dropping me a line because I didn't post something Black on a Black holiday. I don't work for you.

Not a good look, white people. But y’all already knew that.

P.S.: I spent MLK Day resting my tired Black bones and avoiding white sh--. It was time well spent. If you're white and had MLK Day off, please understand that it's not a day of rest for you and yours; feel me?

Some Thoughts on Voting on Election Day 2022

Image description: A screenshot of a measure from the 2022 Oregon midterm election. The measure centers around the Oregon State Constitution stating that slavery and involuntary servitude are prohibited - unless it’s considered punishment for a crime.

Here’s an example of why voting matters. The picture accompanying these words is a ballot measure rundown for the Oregon 2022 midterms. The highlighted measure in question is a measure called Measure 112. Measure 112 addresses a state constitutional matter. You see, the Oregon State Constitution was amended some years ago to remove most of the white supremacist racist language that was its foundation. Not all. Most. Most of the language was addressed via amendments. However, those amendments created loopholes in state constitutional law. And what is the loophole that Measure 112 addresses? Slavery and involuntary servitude are prohibited - unless it’s considered punishment for a crime.

You read that right.

I should’ve been surprised when I saw this on the ballot, but I wasn’t. Over the years, I’ve seen some of the horrific things removed from the Oregon State Constitution, leftovers from Oregon’s founding as a white utopia. What sits with me whenever I see these things is that we have to put removing racist laws from a state constitution to a freaking vote. This should be a given: abolish hateful laws without asking the public for their opinion. Yet we all know we couldn’t be further from a consensus on hate and history as a country if we tried. And you know some people will vote “no” on removing this hateful loophole. If enough people don’t vote “yes” to have this removed, how long do you think it’ll take before some cruel creature of a person or law enforcement in some small Oregon town weaponizes this loophole?

Why do we vote? We vote because we are nowhere near a point in U.S. history where our laws and human rights are intended to apply to all citizens.

[Image description: A screenshot of a measure from the 2022 Oregon midterm election. The measure centers around the Oregon State Constitution stating that slavery and involuntary servitude are prohibited - unless it’s considered punishment for a crime.]

On Social Media Scrolling and Inaccurate "DEI" Imagery

Image description: Two pictures. The left picture, labeled "equality," shows three people of varying heights (from L to R: tall, medium, short) standing on the same size wooden crates. They are all trying to look over a fence to watch a baseball game with varying success. The tall person can see the game; the medium person can barely look over the fence to see the game. The shortest person cannot see the game at all. The right picture, labeled "equity," shows the same three people watching the baseball game. However, this time the tallest person is not standing on a crate and can see the game. The medium-height person is standing on one box and can see the game. The shortest person is standing on two crates and can see the game.

Scrolling through my social media feeds, it is not lost on me that in the year of someone's Lord, 2022, some of us are still out here educating folx on the difference between equity and equality while watching some of y'all share that ancient picture with the people on the damn wooden crates, watching baseball, with one of your woke rants. Could someone please take that picture out back and put it out of its misery? It wasn't accurate when it was first rolled out to the masses 20-plus years ago and isn't an accurate visual depiction of equity and equality today. Equity and equality are more than standing on some crates, trying to watch a baseball game, literally or figuratively.

Let's break this down for what feels like the umpteenth time, shall we? Equality is typically defined as treating everyone the same and giving everyone access to the same opportunities. Equality, however, is not attainable without addressing the hurdles that intersect with white supremacist values and other discriminatory values and ideologies. These include but are not limited to racism, classism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, and ableism.

Equity refers to proportional representation (by race, class, gender, gender identity, disability, etc.) in those same opportunities. To achieve equity, policies and procedures may result in a necessary redistribution of resources to eliminate and mitigate the impacts of the systems and ideologies that threaten equal treatment for all.

There is no equality without equity.

Do you still think you can sum up the difference between equity and equality with some people standing on crates? And don't get me started on how ableist this image is.

Everything ain't meant to be summed up in a couple of images.

Everything can't be whittled down to a few visual Cliff Notes, especially regarding the health, safety, and access to rights, resources, and privileges of marginalized and intersectional identities in a biased and segregationist society.

The oppression of others ain't a meme, y'all.


[Image description: Two pictures. The left picture, labeled "equality," shows three people of varying heights (from L to R: tall, medium, short) standing on the same size wooden crates. They are all trying to look over a fence to watch a baseball game with varying success. The tall person can see the game; the medium person can barely look over the fence to see the game. The shortest person cannot see the game at all. The right picture, labeled "equity," shows the same three people watching the baseball game. However, this time the tallest person is not standing on a crate and can see the game. The medium-height person is standing on one box and can see the game. The shortest person is standing on two crates and can see the game.]

On Fresh Baked Bread and Finding The Medium of Identity and Career Aspirations

Image description: A picture of fresh-baked herb focaccia bread. The bread has been sliced into squares.

As a melanated person, a Black person, in white-centered workplaces, I speak from experience when I say a great deal of energy and a sense of grounding and peace comes from not caving into the "norms" and demands of white supremacist workplace culture ideology as a means of survival. It is liberating to work toward finding the medium in your career that allows you to maintain your identity while thriving personally and financially. With that said, I can also say that by doing so, you open yourself up to a great deal of uncertainty in your future employment opportunities.

Everybody isn't going to be too keen on you maintaining who you are, even those who claim that's why they hired you. They'll expect you to be someone different, to change yourself, and make yourself "acceptable." They will verbalize these expectations, putting your job on the line and leaving you feeling like you're inadequate or a "bad" employee. There will be times when you decide to change yourself to protect yourself. Those moments will hurt, and you might find yourself harboring some resentment, anger, or disappointment toward yourself because you won't feel as protected as you thought. You might not feel protected at all. You may feel more unsafe than ever in your workplace. You'll feel alone.

But you're not alone, far from it.

So many people are flipping that same coin every day because of the world we live in and the workplaces our society has cultivated.

Please know that you are not alone. Please know that I do not judge you because I've been in your shoes and see the weight you carry with your decisions. If anything, I wish you the space and energy to find ways not to shrink who you are and what you bring to the workplace into a trail of crumbs instead of the fresh, robust focaccia you genuinely are. It's not easy, but I promise it is worth it.

Sending you energy and love as you navigate the quagmire of career employment.

P.S.: Yeah, I just compared you to bread. Focaccia, to be exact. Your future and needs are decadent fuel for your soul, like focaccia. You know what? Maybe you should have some focaccia and dipping oil and call it a day. You deserve it.