One of the most powerful words of advice received, came from my friend, Dena Simmons:

“Sometimes, you have to save yourself.”

There are environments that serve as an obstruction to body and mind. You experience suffocation as you breathe in the context of your surroundings, knowing your voice holds no value. Your adherence to self-affirmations and mantras of joy become a complicated relationship while trying to love yourself in a place that has a disdain for your existence. And while you know and process the forces that strive to dim your light, you continue to share genius with those who have a hunger for your truths and neglect the one person who needs you the most: Yourself.

As many Black women, I transitioned from a job in September 2020 that protected whiteness at the cost of my well-being. Through my self-reflections and conversations with many other Black women who have taken the same path, I have realized that sometimes we have to be our own refuge. Sometimes we have to save ourselves.

To Black women, you don’t have to work in a space where core values of inclusion are a facade for white supremacy. You don’t have to subject yourself to gaslighting, microaggressions, and other forms of racial abuse. You don’t have to listen to anyone telling you that you’re less of a leader for shining a light on the inequitable structures that need to change. You don’t have to accept allyship from colleagues who won’t affirm or echo your words publicly, but place all their courage and praises in your inbox. You don’t have to stay in a place that gives you a powerful title while shielding you from spaces where impactful decisions are made. You don’t have to operate in an environment where you feel physically and emotionally unsafe. You don’t have to be told that your vulnerability and honesty are weaknesses. You don’t have to listen to anyone telling you to mitigate your emotions when they’re actively perpetuating harm or racism. You don’t have to keep fighting in a place that offers no protection.

Sis (not just cis), you don’t have to… and it’s okay to choose you.

It took a long time to come to that realization. I am an educator who desires for children to have freedom from oppressive structures. There was guilt while thinking about the people, particularly students, who I would leave behind. I also carried the weight of traumatic experiences from colleagues of color who often felt silenced at work, but validated in my presence. It pained me to know some of my closest colleagues would continue to operate in a system that would not yield love for their Blackness. To this day, it still haunts me to remember the question raised from Black students who learned of my resignation, “Who’s going to fight for us now?” 

However, I also had to be real with myself and name the oppositional forces I was navigating the summer of 2020.

The internal [educational] system was wounding AND the world beyond work due to my tendency of making noise as a DEI practitioner, also became heavier. I was targeted and harassed by white supremacists with no protection or support from the organization I poured much of myself into while serving in a DEI role. My face was found in right-wing publications, causing some of the most racist, inhumane beings in the country to have keyboard courage and send anonymous threats. I found myself not only concerned about a global pandemic, but worried about the protection of my family.  No one in a position of power advocated for me or publicly supported the work I was hired to do in the face of resistance. Some systems are not designed to protect Black women. You are left to work in isolation, and ultimately left to protect yourself.

Sis, sometimes we have to save ourselves. We have to shed what is toxic and preserve the magic whiteness attempts to deplete. We have to love ourselves and understand that some endings are necessary for our survival. We have to grapple with the realization that our purpose might be misaligned with the hidden culture and objectives of a workplace. We have to think about our wellness and physical health, understanding the toll misogynoir and racism takes on our bodies. We have to think about the people who cherish us and want nothing more than to see us win, including our ancestors who fought hard for liberation. We have to protect our peace and choose joy.

We have to choose ourselves.

I thank my mother, sister, aunties, grandmother (who didn’t make it at the start of the pandemic), Crystal Thorpe, Dena Simmons, Karen Bush, Marian Dingle, Denita Harris, Dennisha Murff and so many other Black women who offered encouragement, reflections, and their time to help me come to the understanding that radical self-love may involve you packing a few boxes and starting anew. You may have to move without looking back or expecting any apologies in return- Whew! I am sending a message of love to Black women who have been marginalized, penalized for their gifts, and dismissed.

You are seen and worth it.

Choose you, always.