I have been committed to anti-racism since before I started my coaching practice five years ago. I believe very strongly that it is something that needs to be practiced every. single. day. in all aspects of our lives. Same with anti-oppression more broadly. I am not an expert at doing this. I still have a lot to learn but I am committed to that learning, and I hold a vision in my mind of what America could be like if all beings were truly free.

I do this because when some are suffering all of us our suffering and I want for all beings to feel like they can claim their agency, stand in their power, and do what’s theirs to do in the world.

For all its flaws, I love this country and I want so badly for he U.S. to ACTUALLY live up to it’s nickname of “land of the free.” I think that might be possible, with a whole lot of structural change, cultural change, and reparations and restorative justice for BIPOC.

I also have selfish motives for practicing anti-oppression:

  1. I know that my life will be way better when everyone in this country feels truly free, and all our systems reflect this.

  2. I think life is a lot more fun and joyous when there is less struggle.

  3. I want people of all races, abilities, gender, sexual orientation, etc. to feel like they can trust me so that I can coach people from all walks of life and host vibrant and diverse coaching and writing groups.

As I mentioned recently in this Instagram post, I have been very lucky in that a lot of people, Black folks and otherwise, have taken the time to call me in/out when I’ve said something racist, to recommend resources, and otherwise support my anti-racist education. I have also royally screwed up and have hurt and excluded people and some of them still took the time to tell me how I could do better next time. It is not the job of oppressed people to educate the privileged so I am grateful to people who have nevertheless taken the time to educate me.

Part of how I express that gratitude is by continuing to do my own healing work and my own research. I know not everyone has the network and experiences that I do so I want to offer myself as a resource. If you’re a white person looking for support on your anti-racist journey, please reach out to me. You can set up a free 30 minute session with me here and we can just chat about whatever is coming up for you. I am also including some of my favorite anti-racist and anti-oppression resources below.

Why anti-racism and anti-oppression together? Because we cannot ignore how gender, sexuality, and physical and cognitive ability tie into racial oppression. Being born Black in this country at this time automatically lowers one’s life expectancy. Being Black, trans, and a woman cuts life expectancy nearly in half. If she’s also disabled, it makes the amount of oppression (and potentially violence) she faces that much more significant. First and foremost, Black lives matter. Period. And, we need to make sure that we are always holding ALL Black lives as sacred.

I am not keen to list all my anti-racist actions because, as I mentioned, I see anti-racism and anti-oppression as an ongoing practice, and I don’t want to seem as if I am being defensive or painting myself as an exemplary white ally. I am trying to be an agent of social change, but I still have a lot of work to do to uncover my blind spots and metabolize the white supremacy that lives in me. I do want to share some of my practices in case it is useful to potential clients to see what I’m up to, or in case it can be of service to other white folks, and white coaches in particular.

Here are some of the practices I have, in addition to reading, engaging people in positions of power, and having conversations about race with colleagues, friends, and family.

  • I do a lot of noticing. I notice how I feel in my body in a room that is only white people. I notice what I feel when a Black person enters. I notice what it feels like in my body to walk down the street in a mostly Black neighborhood. I notice how I feel when I am one of the only white people in a room. I notice when I feel scared, when I feel safe, when I feel happy, and when I feel enraged. And then I examine those feelings and consider why I feel the way I feel. As an empath, I also track how people around me are feeling in different situations and offer space for them to process when I can and it feels appropriate.

  • I take on Black teachers. One of my most precious spiritual mentors is a Black dancer/coach/entrepreneur and I’m grateful that she and her husband (also Black) have been in my life for nearly a decade. I have learned a lot from them. Amazingly they continue to facilitate spaces in which Black and White folks can heal together. In 2018, I took a course specifically for white coaches on how to practice diversity, equity, and inclusion in their businesses. Most of the people I quote in the book I am writing are Black. The book is about the connection between healing from health challenges and social change and, as you might imagine (or know well yourself), Black folks have a tremendous amount of wisdom when it comes to healing and living well in the face of tremendous oppression and hardship. The three individuals who most influenced the concepts in my book are Black or mixed race: Resmaa Menakem, Rev. angel Kyodo williams, and adrienne maree brown.

  • I consume Black media. Some of my favorite TV shows are Insecure, Dear White People, and more recently, #blackAF. I listen to black radio, and podcasts hosted and created by Black folks. Trudi Lebron and Louise “Weeze” Doran’s podcast, That’s Not How That Works is an incredible resource for white folks to learn more about justice, diversity, equity, and inclusion and what those words really mean in practice. I also follow Black coaches and healers online. Consuming media by Black creators has helped me learn more about Black culture and the concerns of the Black community from the Black perspective. When I don’t know what something is, I look it up and try to learn more. I love hip hop, and growing up in communities with almost no Black people, it provided some of my first exposure to the Black experience. When I first heard Common’s “A Song for Assata,” for example, I didn’t know what it was about so I did some research and started learning about Assata Shakur and her contributions to Black liberation.

  • I try to support the team. I look out for opportunities to elevate the voices of Black, disabled, queer, and indigenous people, immigrants, and those who hold other marginalized identities, both in my personal and professional life. I do this when I’m in group settings by trying to make sure all voices are included, ideally most marginalized first, and I choose to promote the work of more marginalized voices, e.g. by choosing the books of POC poets for prompts in my writing group, and asking everyone I know to read Resmaa Menakem’s My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies. I practice speaking up for individuals with certain identities whether or not they are in the room, and offer to educate others when I’m able. Last year I organized a training for my team at work on disability justice and how our team could best support disabled students. I recently introduced my boss to oops/ouch so that we could start using it in meetings as a mechanism for addressing microaggressions. I have a meeting scheduled with our Office of Diversity, Inclusion, and Belonging later this month to talk about what I can do to support Harvard Kennedy School in its anti-racist journey. I recently worked with some neighbors on NextDoor to raise a little money for a local Black-owned hair salon to buy supplies for reopening after quarantine. I have been learning more about the Black-owned businesses in my community so that I can support them when the time comes, e.g. when I need to see an auto mechanic, I will try to support the Black mechanic first. In the last round of my coaching group Operation Dream Job, the group I recruited was 50% POC and we offered partial scholarships to four individuals who were low-income, POC, and/or disabled. I’m going to aim higher next time but it felt like a start. And, it’s a small thing, but I also make a point of holding doors open for Black women when I get the chance. It’s the very least I can do to be respectful and honor how challenging it is to be a Black woman in America. My hope is that these practices add up to something meaningful and inspire other white people around me to take similar actions. I also understand that I can do a lot more, particularly when it comes to combating systemic oppression, and I plan to do so.

  • I ask for feedback and welcome accountability. I’m currently paying a POC friend to do a sensitivity read of my book because I KNOW I’ve written things that are hurtful and tone deaf, and I want the book to be as accessible and inclusive as possible. If you see me share, write, say, or do something that feels racist, ableist, homophobic, or otherwise offensive (including this post!) please reach out and let me know. If you have ideas for how I can make my coaching practice more diverse, equitable, and inclusive, I would love your feedback.

Here are some of my favorite resources on anti-racism:

Anti-Oppression more broadly:

In the coming months I’ll be working on a more robust resource page that will also include resources specific to supporting and lifting up queer, trans, sick, and disabled folks. If there are any resources you’d like to share or recommend, please send me an email.