I find myself drawn to the concepts of equity and social justice and all their messy complexities. We refer to the ideas of equity and social justice by so many names: diversity, inclusion, disruption, decolonization, etc. I strive to try to do as much as possible to learn about and understand the problematic power structures found in so many of our systems by reading, listening, asking questions, and engaging in deep ongoing reflection. As an educator, I grapple with the effects of equity and social justice on the kids and families I serve, especially after reading several books that have been weighing heavy in my mind:
· The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Areby BrenéBrown
· Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemptionby Bryan Stevenson
· Cultivating Genius: An Equity Framework for Culturally and Historically Responsive Literacy by Gholdy Muhammad
I have several friends who have experienced the repercussions of the problematic power structures found in so many of our systems. They have endured unthinkable life experiences and actively work to “disrupt” the status quo. When I hear their stories, I feel ashamed of my white privilege—ashamed of my story. I feel unworthy of entering into a conversation that will bring much needed change to so many inequitable power structures. I wonder, how I can contribute to the work of disrupting the status quo in a meaningful way when my white-privilege is the root cause of those power structures? In his book Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, Bryan Stevenson addresses my feelings of shame when he states: “We all share the condition of brokenness even if our brokenness is not equivalent. … But our brokenness is also the source of our common humanity, the basis for our shared search for comfort, meaning, and healing. Our shared vulnerability and imperfection nurtures and sustains our capacity for compassion (p. 289).” In her book The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are, BrenéBrown defines connection as “the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgment; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship (p. 19).”
With Stevenson’s and Brown’s words in mind, I began to rewrite the shame narrative playing in my head. I believe that all of us have something to contribute to the conversation of equity and social justice regardless of our past life experiences. Putting a measuring stick next to our brokenness is a nothing more than a value judgment of our past, and that distracts us from moving forward with a conversation that will affect change. I have also made the mistake of believing that my passion for a topic gives me the right to “call out injustice” in others. What I have learned is that being intensely passionate can be very off-putting to people, which often causes them to be defensive and shut down the conversation. Calling out others implies that I am better or that I have the right to judge. I have learned that, at its heart, advocacy and being a catalyst of change means actively listening to understand more than speaking out; and that building inclusive trusting relationships grounds the process. Trusting relationships provide us with the space to be vulnerable; allow us to feel seen, heard, and valued; and give us common ground to find our humanity.
But that is not enough. Advocacy is easy if I surround myself with people who share my beliefs. But, being a true advocate, or catalyst of change, also necessitates that I intentionally seek out people whose philosophical beliefs are in opposition to mine and continue the process of actively listening to understand. These beliefs are not easy to live. I continue to reflect on, and refine, my beliefs about equity and justice. Honestly, I am also overwhelmed by the messy complexities of equity and justice. There is so much work that needs to be done, especially in today’s world. So, I embrace my own imperfection in this process and take small steps every day to affect change. It is probably not enough, but it is a start—and we all need to begin by taking a step forward.
In the end, I remember the words of Brown, “Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light (p. 6).” Together our light shines like the north star beckoning us toward the hope of connectedness.
