Inclusion is a Journey: I Would Take Something Else for my Journey Now

In 1993 the late great writer and poet Maya Angelou wrote a book of autobiographical essays and poems entitled, I Wouldn’t Take Nothing for my Journey Now. In true Maya Angelou fashion, she offered the world brilliant jewels of wisdom based on her journey in life up to that point.  

As I reminisce on my life and my 30-plus years as an advocate for diversity, equity, and inclusion, I believe that there has been a reason for every experience that has brought me to this point. When I first started writing this piece, I thought I was going to say that I, like Maya Angelou, wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now. However, after finishing it, I came back to this paragraph and unlike Maya Angelou, I would take something different for my journey. Please continue to read to see why.    

Perhaps my path was predestined from the time I was 5 years old as a kindergarten student in Niagara Falls, NY, when Billy M. called Charlene (the only other black person in the class) and me the “N” word.  That experience had a profound impact on me because, until then, I did not know that I was different, and that people might be mean to me because of the color of my skin. I changed from a carefree 5-year-old who knew no boundaries to a cautious child wondering how many more Billy M’s there might be in my midst. I no longer felt that I could be totally free and curious—saying or doing things before I thought about the ramifications. Quite a burden for a young child—wouldn’t you agree?  Of course, at the time, I was not able to fully understand this.   

My path to this work may have also been influenced by the fear and trepidation I sensed from my parents when I was a child every time we passed the Mason-Dixon line on our way to visit relatives in Baltimore, Maryland.  My mother would turn around from her front seat position in the car and point her finger at me sternly warning, “We are in the South now. You must sit there, be still, and not cause any problems.”  Again, I did not fully understand what she meant, although I do remember on at least three occasions that my dad was stopped by the police asking him where we were going. I later understood that our New York state license plate stood out and that these queries by the police were not random. I was taught from that early age that you had to be “extra good” in the South.   

In middle school, my best friend Alnita wrote an essay on Sojourner Truth. Alnita was brilliant and a great writer. She had a way with words, even in the 7^th grade. She read her essay in class and even the teacher was speechless. Most students at that age would write about a famous person in a very sterile biographical fashion, but Alnita’s essay helped you to feel the pain and suffering as well as the determination and audacity of Sojourner Truth. It was life-changing for me for two reasons. First, I had never heard of Sojourner Truth, and second, I could not have conceived that there was a black woman in the 1800s who challenged slavery and was an advocate for women’s rights in such a fervent way. You see, our text books had few, if any accounts of black heroes or heroines.  

Alnita spurred my love of writing. In high school, I was the editor of the school newspaper. This was the late 60s, and the Civil Rights Movement was in full swing.  I was writing about Martin Luther King Jr, Malcom X (that piece was banned), women’s rights, the Vietnam War, and other social issues of the day.  More times than not, my pieces were substantially edited by the teacher who oversaw the newspaper, because she thought them to be too controversial. Oh, I wonder what I would have done if we had social media during those times.  

After I was accepted to the University of Rochester, my guidance counselor suggested that perhaps that school was too lofty a goal for someone like me. Sorry, my bags were packed! I was going, and I was going to show her. The year I began college, there were 69 black students (the previous year there were 10) out of a student body of about 5000 undergraduates. Shortly after I arrived at Rochester, the University’s president said something to the effect that he thought most black students would do better at the community college. The Black Student Union took over the administration building demanding a retraction and respect. I was a part of that takeover. Fifteen years later, I was elected as the first African American female trustee of the University of Rochester.  

After I was accepted to the University of Rochester, my guidance counselor suggested that perhaps that school was too lofty a goal for someone like me. Sorry, my bags were packed! I was going, and I was going to show her. Click To Tweet

My brief experience in the corporate world, where I was soon assigned to work in affirmative action, was also fraught with messages that I was not totally accepted. During one period where I was sporting a short afro, one of my colleagues asked me if my hair would grow. When I answered in the affirmative, he said that it would be wise if I let it. I was one of 4 high-potential employees selected to attend an executive MBA program. The three others were white men. When we finished the program, each of the white men received promotions to director or VP roles. They did not know quite what to do with me, so I was given a role in a new department called “competitive intelligence.” My assignment felt much like a glorified administrative assistant. I was miserable, but the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back for me was when I had a blatant sexual harassment experience. I remained silent. I decided to leave to start my own company. I soon learned that I was a vanguard relative to entrepreneurship—so much so that the local newspaper featured an article entitled: “Woman Starts business in her Basement.” It would hardly be news today! 

The Winters Group was launched in 1984, and on the one hand, I am proud that the company continues to thrive. On the other hand, I am grieved that we are dealing with the same issues that were prevalent almost 35 years ago.   

The Winters Group was launched in 1984, and on the one hand, I am proud that the company continues to thrive. On the other hand, I am grieved that we are dealing with the same issues that were prevalent almost 35 years ago.    Click To Tweet

It makes me physically ill to think about how little progress we have really made in our quest for equity, justice and inclusion. I am so very frustrated and many times angry, that the degrading and inhumane experiences that I have had on my journey continue to be the status quo around the world.   

The inequities and atrocities that are happening today are too numerous to list here. Some major ones that come mind include:

• Studies that show that little black girls are not perceived as innocently as little white girls 
• Educational systems that are more segregated–and therefore more isolating—for poor children of color today than they were when I was in school. This segregation and its isolating effects create enduring educational disparities between white students and students of color, and obscure the accomplishments of people of color  
• People of colors’ continued experience with the same kind of racist policing that my parents were subjected to 
• Black women not being perceived as professional when they choose to wear their hair in natural styles like I did and continue to do  
• Mass killings of black and Jewish people by avowed white supremacists  
• Children ripped from their parents’ arms in the wake of inhumane immigration practices   
• The #MeToo movement that is elucidating rampant sexual harassment like I experienced 35 years ago
• Law enforcement individuals who are acquitted for gunning down unarmed black people—modern day lynching 
• The lack of progress in representation of people of color in leadership positions—the same issue we were dealing with when The Winters Group was founded. Studies show that not much if any progress has been made on this front.   

And unfortunately, the list goes on. 

Maybe I was living in a fantasy world thinking that we were making progress—but now the advances in technology allow all of these atrocities to be in our faces 24/7.  Can it be true that we have made so little headway in the past 35 years? Can it be true that all of us who have been so ardent in our pursuit of equity have totally failed? Can it be true that there is a critical mass that want us to maintain and regress to systems that are intentionally inequitable?  

I love Dr. Angelou—her eloquence and optimism. I am sorry that I cannot share it right now. I would take something else for my journey now. I would take more love, acceptance, peace, understanding, a willingness on the part of leaders to revolt against blatant inequities (there is too much silence), educational systems that provide equitable resources, fair and just law enforcement systems, and a world where I don’t have to be afraid because I and those I love are “living while black.”   

I love Dr. Angelou—her eloquence and optimism. I am sorry that I cannot share it right now. I would take something else for my journey now. I would take more love, acceptance, peace, understanding, a willingness on the part of leaders to revolt Click To Tweet

Maya Angelou said: “While one may encounter many defeats, one must not be defeated.”  

Although I am at a place of discouragement right now, I will not be defeated. I will stay on the journey for justice, equity and inclusion.  Won’t you join us on this road?  It is not for the faint-hearted, as the road is dangerous, and we will likely lose our way from time to time. There will be accidents, road rage, fatalities, slippery slopes, bad weather, construction and detours. We may at times feel like the journey will never end—and indeed it will not. I still enthusiastically invite you to join.  We need you.

Although I am at a place of discouragement right now, I will not be defeated. I will stay on the journey for justice, equity and inclusion.  Won’t you join us on this road? Click To Tweet We may at times feel like the journey will never end—and indeed it will not. I still enthusiastically invite you to join.  We need you.  Click To Tweet