While Black

01 Oct While Black

I found myself taking deep breaths and trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in my throat. My eyes were burning and I could feel my face getting hot. 

I was angry, and what made me angrier is the fact that I was also hurt. My mind had been replaying the death of George Floyd on constant rotation and I could feel those emotions rising again. Because of both their variation and intensity I was having trouble composing myself and the work day was just beginning. As I sat on the Zoom call, I listened to my colleagues recall their weekends and casually discussing the impact the protests in their areas had on their plans. Some expressed concern others annoyance. The expressions of inconvenience felt like lashes and I felt like hitting back.

I decided to proceed with the call with my camera off, offering up an excuse about a shotty internet connection because I did not want to share my emotions. I was raw, reeling, and trying to sort through what it was about this tragedy that made it so I simply could not fake it anymore. I had hit a wall. Literally just could not…not anymore.

I questioned whether it was maturity. I had grown up seeing these injustices, like we all have and voting, protesting, signing and even starting petitions felt like it just was not enough. Like everyone I was riding the waves of this pandemic. Holding on to the best parts of 2020 and the best parts of my private life with everything I had. Maybe that was it. I was engaged and soon to be married to the love of my life. This amazing, kind, intelligent black man, whose mere existence seemed to be a threat to everything and everyone he comes across. It could have been him, or my brother, or my nephew, or my father.

I didn’t want to share that there. Not on that call. Not on this job. I actually enjoy it but I didn’t feel comfortable with that level of exposure. Now here it was my turn to speak about “any fun things I did this weekend” and share any “thoughts I had about the…situation that occurred last week”. 

I fully intended to give my same arbitrary recount of the weekend, leaving out the personal details of grief and processing. I fully intended to make some light hearted, politically correct statement about how I was feeling given the “recent social unrest.” I couldn’t do it. 

My voice broke revealing our collective pain and I was immediately…embarrassed. Then again, angry. I felt naked. However, instead of retreating by making some joke that would cut the tension and shift our focus I decided that we would all sit in the discomfort for a while. Realizing that I had a captive and open audience, I spoke my truth. I was exhausted, disgusted and tired of pretending not to be. What amazed me most was that they actually listened.

It wasn’t my emotion that I wanted them to focus on. Yes, it’s awful and I feel it. We feel it everyday. I can’t escape for the weekend when the rioting and protesting gets to be too much. The world is at war with me. I am BLACK wherever I go. I love my skin, my culture, but I don’t need you to love it. I need you to respect it. I am a human being who deserves all the rights and privileges afforded to the next human being. We deserve it. I am just so sick my people having to be publicly lynched for you to acknowledge it.

I realized in that moment that I was done. I was done ignoring inappropriate comments. If you are wrong I will call you out. That moment on Zoom showed me, that even without the emotion, I can speak clearly about what offends me and the discomfort that may come from that is something to be faced head on. It also reminded me that I can affect change. I’ve had moments in the past where I endured openly racist employers, co-workers or clients. I constantly debated which battle was worth it. What would the outcome be? I’ve gone to HR only to find myself on Performance Improvement Plans and live under not so subtle threats to my job security.

That moment on Zoom confirmed the way I chose to operate at work from that moment forward. I was already a member of the Diversity and Inclusion council but it reminded me that I needed to advocate for myself and those that will come after me with every opportunity I am given. If the opportunity doesn’t present itself, I’ll create one. I already have the power. I don’t need to given to me.

Outside of the inequities, I speak up more than I ever have about my role and career trajectory, about opportunities to upskill, and my goals. I celebrate my wins, rather than brushing over them for the sake of being humble. I acknowledge my strengths and put myself in positions to use them.

I had worked so hard to start owning the outcomes of my personal life that I finally realized that it was now or never to take over the narrative of my work environment. I’m not sacrificing my mental health for the sake of a paycheck. No more thoughts about coming off as confrontational or being labeled as having an attitude.

When had I started shrinking? I’m not exactly sure, but everyday I consciously decide to live in full bloom wherever I am and in whatever I do. This is part of the way that I remind them why my black life matters…and his, and hers, and yours too.