A Point of View: Remembering Your Counter-Narrative

Recently, I have been thinking a lot about the toll it takes on Diversity, Inclusion, and Equity practitioners when we are faced with the challenges of doing the work in such polarizing times. In fact, as an empath, I find myself really taking on the feelings and emotions of those who I work with and frankly, in light of all that we see happening around us, I have been in a bit of a sad place wondering if what I do makes a difference, or if it’s the right work to be doing at all. 

We’ve talked about the “Black fatigue” and emotional labor we experience as people of color, and the difficulties of being Black women, operating under the expectation that we have to shape our identities to create comfort for others, and knowing that bias against us shows up in big and small ways; from the unavailability of our shades of makeup in local stores to not having our medical concerns addressed with the same urgency because Black patient care and pain assessment is also grounded in bias. How could one know these things and not be just a little bit angry? 

Much of my work is done in schools and school districts and after years of experience working with them and seeing very little shrinkage in the opportunity gaps in student performance, it can be frustrating for the teachers and leaders who are working really hard for all students, but often seeing disparate results. That too forced me to ask if I am making a difference when I am brought in to help. Am I just a part of the larger problem if I can’t help find the solutions? Is this just the way it is and will always be for students from marginalized populations in all schools? I started worrying if maybe I was beginning to believe the narratives that tell us that there is no fix to the social ills that plague most school systems trying their best to meet the mandates to equitably educate all children. 

It’s exhausting work. It’s heartbreaking work. It’s a lot of work. If you aren’t careful, it can be easy to justify throwing in the towel and finding other uses of your time. I was in that place, wondering if I could make better use of my skills and talents doing this work in other settings … but then something happened. 

One thing is for certain; the universe will always answer your questions. And here is how I got mine: On a heavy travel week where I had delayed flights and sat on the tarmac for over an hour as our plane was de-iced, and then de-iced again- I sat and thought about why on Earth I subjected myself to the weekly travel and frustrations. I was exhausted and just wanted to get home. To distract myself, I reflected on my day and began to scroll through the pictures in my phone. And there it was in the palm of my hand; a picture I had taken with a few beautiful kindergarteners earlier that day. In it, I almost recognized the person at the center. It was me. Not the frustrated, tired, ready to get home me, but the me that couldn’t help but have a smile on my face that showed almost every tooth in my mouth. The me that felt so much joy in taking a picture with the very children that made me ever want to do this work to begin with. The me that couldn’t help but be filled with the joy that you can only get from hearing children giggle. They were the answer. They were my counter-narrative to “ its hard”, “it’s just the way it is and will always be”, “maybe you should find something else, somewhere else to make a difference.” 

In that moment, I knew all of that to be untrue. They are all the reasons I need to fight the good fight, stay in the work, and pour myself into our schools. I was reminded that my work does make a difference and can help change the trajectory for even one student if I am lucky. 

They don’t know it, but those smiling faces, changed the trajectory for me that day. 

Thanks KIPP St Louis Class of 2032. For you, I’m not going anywhere.