Community Matters: Raven Mack

Leave a reply
A handsome white guy with a blackberry bush beard in a customized Adidas tracksuit gestures and speaks to an audience of people in a restaurant setting.
Raven Mack speaking at Community Matters

I’ve been delayed in writing about Community Matters for this week because it’s been such a busy week, and frankly, I’m writing about my guy which has been . It’s been a busy week for the two of us– Tuesday was Community Matters, Wednesday was the first Haiku Slam of the year, Saturday we went to Leni Sorensen’s house for dinner, and Sunday we went to dinner to meet X of the Black Power Station in South Africa– a week full of the things we love most– ideas, community– new and old, the arts. 

Raven and I met in August of 2018. He signed up to be part of the community care response to the one year anniversary. Within minutes I recognized that he was smart and observant and “deputized” him to make decisions. After that weekend we started talking. I went to his September haiku slam and recognized that he had created an environment that felt akin to CLAW and BE, but in 17 syllable poetry battles. A year and a half later, we’ve increasingly become partners in plans– plans for the apocalypse, the arts, community, and some undiscovered empty building. 

Tuesday, Raven talked about his vision of how writing and the arts can be a path to healing. Here’s some takeaways from his talk:

  • Thrive vs Survive. Raven talked about how difficult it is to simply survive, and that participating in the arts can push someone over into being able to thrive. 
  • When he was a painter he’d have a stack of 3”x5” cards in his pocket in order to quickly write haiku without getting fussed at for slacking off. Make art in the corners of your life.
  • I’ll be honest– so much of what Raven was talking about wasn’t new to me– repackaged into the format for the evening, but I was so proud to have some of my best friends witness what a brilliant, creative thinker my partner is. 
A white woman smirks lovingly at a gesturing and speaking man
Raven and Dolly at Community Matters

Wednesday night was Raven’s haiku slam. The 3 top finishers were all under 22. The energy was amazing. The room was full of laughter, righteous anger, and wordplay. Having back to back Community Matters and Haiku Slam, made me so proud of how we support each other to foster the community that we desire and need.

Photos by Kristen Finn

DART: Identifying Resources and Relationships

Leave a reply

As homework in preparation for class two of DART, participants made lists of all of their resources (ranging from skills to property, assets, finances) that they have access to, and all of the relationships with Black people they have. These lists were for private reflection and to prime them to think about their own place in the world. Because thinking about race is difficult for many white people, we don’t. It’s easier to maintain plausible deniability about white supremacy if we don’t investigate what structures our lives. The maintenance of  white supremacy is not “other white people”, it is us, unless we activate to restructure our own lives to disrupt this status quo. 

So much of what we see as anti-racist work is geared toward white people. Calling in and calling out white people can be helpful, but without accompanying work supporting Black People, Black Work, and Black Excellence, it is merely white people interacting with white people, maintaining a segregated society that is centered on whiteness. 

The homework of listing resources and relationships was in preparation for individual work on creating a plan to support Black people. Let me be clear. This is not in preparation for “doing onto Black people”. This is in preparation for deepening relationships with Black people so that there is a pathway for you, as a white person, to share available resources with Black people. This naturally occurs in your existing relationships. When you research grants, you forward to people who may want to apply. When a job opens at your work, you share the application with people you know are a good fit. When you think of two people who are doing complementary work, you introduce them via email. When you are in relationship with only white people, you are doing these small daily tasks only for white people. When you know more information about Black people, when you know what their needs, wants, and aspirations are, you can opt them into your daily life. I say opt in, because I always ask for consent. “Please let me know if you don’t want to get these grants.” “I understand if you are too busy to meet someone new. Feel free to say no.” “This seems like something that would be a fit. If it’s not, please feel free to ignore it.” 

While you know that you are intentionally focusing on supporting Black people, you don’t need to announce it. And it’s not random acts. It’s observing, and listening to what Black people say they want, and being responsive. It’s offering, not forcing.

This work would not be possible without Toni Barskile and all of the other Black Thinkers who have led the way.

Hey, Unnamed Annoying Person!!

Leave a reply

I’m like a dog with a bone when I get irritated; I cannot stop mentally wrestling with all the words I want to throw at someone. I often want to have long ranty diatribes at people who say dumb stuff around me. But I don’t think it’s helpful or effective to do it, cuz they’ve already shown me they aren’t ready to listen. I’ve found flipping the script is cathartic for me. I think about how I’d like their behavior to change. It reminds me of my values, and how I hope to act myself. It completes the loop, and makes it so I can turn off the irritation faucet. So, unnamed annoyance, this is my request to you:

  • Show appreciation, gratitude, and admiration for someone doing work that you are not doing. 
  • Avoid suggesting additional work that you are not going to do. 
  • Ask opinions about proposed work, rather than make suggestions of future work. 
  • Value expertise that is unfamiliar to you. 
  • Understand and respect that community exists prior to your arrival. 
  • Recognize that your privileged identity or associations have context and history; if you feel that is unfair or unrepresentative, dismantle by demonstrating growth and change in your actions.  
  • Assume less. 
  • Communicate with respect. 
  • Check for mutual understanding. 
  • Listen to feedback.
  • Respect boundaries and requests.
  • Understand it’s not others’ job or responsibility to create or disrupt your experiences, particularly if you don’t share a mutual community.
  • Reject hierarchical thinking that includes notions of charity or help. 
  • Realize that you exist in communities of mutual aid and support.
  • Have clarity about the lack of correlation between formal education and intelligence and wisdom.

Community Matters: Marissa Turner-Harris

Leave a reply

Donor Diapers on Facebook

Marissa blew me away last night. 

I’ve known Marissa since she was a 14 year old 9th grader. We immediately became very close because of our shared sense of humor and absurdity. Marissa is very intelligent and funny, and has taught me so much with her ability to cut through nonsense with her own wit and nonsense. 

Last night, Marissa delivered an activity that was the most interactive one yet. The group was divided into 4 tables, and each table was given a different set of money and bills. Marissa gave instructions as to how to divvy the money up– money was tight as it was, but add in diapers, and childcare, and the occasional emergency, and each table was in deficit quickly. Everyone was engaged with their tablemates. The energy was great. Later I asked Marissa if she had presented this exercise before and she said no. Her natural presentation skills made it seem like she’d done it a thousand times. 

This exercise led to Marissa describing Donor Diapers and its mission to provide diapering supplies to families in need. Providing the context for the need including informing the room about the lack of social service support for diaper supplices, the health consequences of insufficient diapers, and the financial realities of diapering. 

Major take-aways:

  • Diapers are expensive. $90/month on diapers seemed like just a beginning number. That’s a $1000/year, and you can have more than one child in diapers at once. 
  • I had never even considered the health consequences of penis circumcisions in babies. If a penis is circumcised, then it becomes irritated, more prone to bacteria, and therefore needs more regular diaper changes. 
  • $500 donated to Donor Diapers would outfit 5 babies for an entire month in diapers. $500 to some other nonprofits in town might be a drop in their budgetary bucket.

DART: White Vulnerability

1 Reply

Here’s a true thing that feels absurdly difficult to talk about. White people do not have enough authentic relationships with enough Black People. We know it’s true. Why is it so hard to say? An authentic relationship with a Black Person is just like an authentic relationship. It’s all of the things. It’s not just getting a meal together. It’s the joyful things, right? It’s the love and laughter and giggling and relaxing. It’s also the anger, and the reconciling, and the sorrow, and pettiness, and hurt feelings. This is the hard stuff about relationships. With an interracial relationship you add in the intersection of race, and power dynamics, and privileges. White people are uncomfortable even thinking about our relationship to racism, prejudice, privilege, and power; we don’t want to do the internal work to hold ourselves accountable, and so we don’t do the external work to have a genuine relationship with a Black person and so we don’t even try. And worse, we talk about our Black Friend, and how she said it was okay to be racist. 

My advice to white people, particularly white women, is NOT to suddenly intrude onto Black people and think that they want you as their white ally friend. They probably don’t. You’re probably not going to be a good friend, yet. I don’t remember when this popped into my head, but recently I thought, “White people sure need to work on being likeable.” Likeable is NOT being nice; it’s being present and authentic in a relationship. White people need to trust Black people enough to be their best authentic selves. I think unexamined fears and anxiety cause well-intentioned white people to display a range of unpleasant emotions and actions when interacting with Black people.

There are so many different kinds of relationships– as many kinds as there facets of our personalities. Some white people in Charlottesville seem to think that the only way to have a relationship with a Black person is over racial justice activism or talking about race. It seems so elementary to say, but Black people have fully formed lives. To expect a Black person to talk about racism with an unknown white person is a traumatic act. To reduce a Black person to only their racial identity is a traumatic act. I can’t give you a list of what Black people like to talk about, because Black people are not a monolith. But I can tell you this, from my lived experience, Black people like the full range of dumb, boring, pop cultural, esoteric, oddly specific things that you do. Again, it seems basic, but if you’re trying to develop relationships with people, probably avoid saying stuff like “I wouldn’t have thought you’d like that…”, or “Huh, how’d you’d find out about that?” I do think discomfort and anxiety leads to saying dumb things. I feel like there are people who are saying “But I don’t do that…” If you aren’t, who are these white people saying dumb stuff? I’ll tell you, sometimes it’s me. 

There’s a balance in moving through the world. I try really hard to not say hurtful or ignorant words, but I also accept that I sometimes do. White people hate to be vulnerable or wrong– that’s a part of white supremacy/fragility. If breaking down white supremacy involves me looking dumb for the cause, I’m good. White supremacy manifests itself in personal relationships in white people having to dominate and make the decisions or always sounding right or in authority. They pick the restaurant– the kids come to play at the white household– They head the committee– White people still hold the power. Developing an authentic relationship requires being vulnerable. White people becoming vulnerable is devastating to white supremacy.  Anti-racist vulnerability does not look like dumping all your feelings onto a Black person. Anti-racist vulnerability means asking for support or help, asking for accountability, ceding control, apologizing, asking permission. Anti-racist vulnerability looks like respect and trust. 

I can only speak for myself, but I don’t think my anti-racism work is legitimate if I do not have deep authentic relationships with Black people. I don’t know that I trust myself enough to know what institutions need to be smashed without someone to yell, “Hey, Dolly, not that one!!” If I don’t have mutually trusting relationships with Black people, then there is no accountability for my anti-racist work.

This work would not be possible without Toni Barskile.

Being White While White People Are Doing White People Things

Leave a reply

Toni and I are starting our Anti Racism class tomorrow. Race and equity are never far from my brainwaves, so it’s hard to tell if I am more activated or not, but it’s nice to have a focus. I’m excited, but nervous, because I’m so much more prone to anxiety and exhaustion than I used to be. I’m hoping that I’ll continue to feel better as the days lengthen, but I’ve taken to staying at home on Wednesdays with no appointments because I’m so tired by Community Matters on Tuesday nights. I take all sorts of lessons from this– how lucky I am to be able to structure my time like this, how other people are afforded this kind of self-care, and that this is the world I want for all people. It does worry me to take on another high emotional labor event, but we shall see.

All this sets the backdrop for the fact that I have more time on Wednesdays for social media and general catching up on my computer time. Facebook pulled me into a thread about JLo and Shakira and sexuality. The conversation took its predictable twists and turns. And then we went into the land of white fragility. I know in the abstract that it exists, but I don’t encounter it much in the wild. This friend of my FB friend doubled and tripled down on how people were calling her racist, and that her feelings were hurt. Because I’m me, I had looked at her profile page– her profile picture was a picture of her and maybe her daughter wearing large pink sunhats at what was certainly the woman’s march. Her picture, her non-intersectional view of feminism and sexuality, and her fragility all was almost a caricature of white feminism.

In no order here are some takeaways and thoughts I have about this:

  • I feel conflicted about my balance between calling in and calling out. It hard to tell who is worthy of engaging with. Who, if held to account, and engaged with, will become activated to become anti-racist? I have seen people transform towards equity and justice. It’s long and hard work, but to get more white people activated to be anti-racist in their personal and professional lives is worth it. At a certain point tho, I wanted to say today, are you fucking kidding me?, particularly when this woman started pulling the “people are being intolerant to me” card.
  • I was reflecting on how there might be power in engaging with people at a social distance– friends of friends, rather than people in your immediate social or professional circle, but then I was blown away by my (relatively new to me) FB friend calmly and collectedly reading her own FB friend on internet protocol and social justice acceptable practices. It was a visible reminder and modeling on how to do the things.
  • This work is hard. It is hard emotionally and intellectually. And it’s not harder than what Black and Brown Women and Men have to do to survive in our culture everyday.
  • For me, practicing anti-racism looks like values the well-being of Black and Brown people in my life over the social constructs and constraints of the White dominant society.

Community Matters: Ibby Han

Leave a reply

Like Lisa, I met Ibby as part of the organizing from the summer of hate. Ibby was and is still a relatively young human. As I said in her introduction last night, she is one of the most gifted facilitators I’ve ever experienced. When I’m in a planning session or a meeting, and I want reassurance that it’s well-planned and organized, I look for certain people; Ibby is one of them.

Ibby wanted to speak on two topics that both came under the umbrella of Mutual Aid: Street Medics and CHIDA. Street Medics are people who provide immediate first aid care during actions and/or rallies. Actions and rallies have health risks inherently built in. They can have large numbers of attendees, face police interference and brutality, and be in extreme weather. Street medics are there to provide immediate care without being entered into the system.

CHIDA has been meeting Greyhound buses filled with asylum seekers released from detention from near the Mexico/US border. Migrants are released from incarceration with nothing but the clothes on their back and sent to their sponsors as far away as Maine or Connecticut. About 60 migrants a day, 7 days a week were moving through Charlottesville. CHIDA made sure that they were able to select water, coats, and snacks. Ibby estimates that 15,000 migrants were assisted in the past year. With the border closed, there is reduced need to provide this support.

Major takeaways from Ibby’s talk included:

  • Even with the very short layover with the Greyhound bus, it was important to employ radical consent– the idea that you do not do onto people, but that you work in solidarity with people. Rather than thrusting a bunch of objects onto people, asking what their needs are, and providing them the opportunities to choose allows them agency.
  • There is so much trauma around A12 for our community, and yet it also brought us together in community. There were 6 people in the room last night that I would not know but for the organizing around that time, and the year after– and they are people who I consider to be integral parts of my trusted community. I don’t think you have to have trauma to build organizations and solidarity, but it sure jumpstarts the process.
  • Ibby was talking about not having a line item on her resume for her community work. I giggled in my head, because I now included it. There’s two reasons; the first, community building was pretty much my full time job both summers 2017 and 2018. I wanted to account for that time spent. The second reason is that at this point I don’t want a job that doesn’t value, or at least see, those skills. To feel that I can include it on my resume is a privilege, and yet also a risk. Below is the text so you can see how I framed it:

Community Builder: Anti-Racism Efforts in Charlottesville 2017-present

Worked with a wide range of community members to safeguard our community against the white supremacist rallies of the summer. Partnered with members of SURJ, BLM, Congregate Cville and BSA, as well as mental health professionals, legal representatives, business owners and other stakeholders to prepare for an unpredictable threat against the community. Created and distributed educational materials, facilitated meetings between community members, and communicated concerns with University and City officials. Facilitated resource and fund distribution to people affected by the white supremacist attacks. Designed and taught Anti-Racism course to activate white people to incorporate anti-racist actions into their daily life.

Community Matters: Schedule

Leave a reply

For more information about how we got here: click here.

For information about each presenter, click on the link of their project. For my reflections on their presentation, click on their name.

Calculating Risks in Service of Equity and Justice

Leave a reply

Many people feel stuck when considering taking action because of fear and undefined/ill-defined risk. If privileged people can identify where our reserves and resources are, and what risk we take on, we can be more expansive and effective in our social justice work. Thinking through risk helps us to expand our diversity of tactics. Sometimes the imagined consequences of new actions are more than the actuality.

N.B. I know that many people do not have the privilege and luxury of calculating risks. I see and honor the work of People of Color, particularly Black Women, who have been leading in this work for generations. This post is written to encourage those reluctant in their privilege to begin taking more risk to build the world that we want to see.

Social Risk

Social risk happens when we feel like our families, friends and/or group isn’t going to like or accept us any more because of new and/or political stances or actions. I think that this is the silent killer of action. When you begin voicing different opinions, or stand up to your identity, you may be afraid that relationships can end. That is hard; particularly if you already feel socially isolated. You’re able to take on more social risk when you feel confident in your breadth and depth of relationships. Social risk can look like bringing up taboo topics in conversation, sharing articles that have a political point of view, challenging wrong assumptions, or ending friendships that have or feel like that have social or other value. The bright side of ending relationships that don’t feel aligned with your social justice goals, is that it can open up energy and time for more supportive relationships. It can also be a risk to join new events/movements. It can feel that you’re not far enough on your journey to be able to join a new social justice event or movement. It’s okay. Meeting new people can be hard. Sometimes people can be welcoming and ready to invite you in. Sometimes people can be tired, and nervous about meeting a newcomer themselves, particularly if you’re joining the group after a traumatic event. When you’re new, it’s a good time to be a listener, learner, and your most authentic self, including practicing saying “thank you” and “I didn’t know”.

Physical Risk

Having a physical presence in the streets is so critically important for to show our strength in numbers, to create obstacles to the status quo, and to bring us together in solidarity, yet it can be a risk that many feel that they cannot take on. For people who are differently abled, have mobility issues, have invisible illnesses, are more likely to be targeted by LO, have an outstanding warrant or previous charges, have undocumented status, are suffering from trauma and/or anxiety, or are the primary caregivers for children, the elderly, or anyone else, the logistics and physicality of physical presence can be overwhelming. If you feel that you cannot participate for any of the reasons mentioned, or others, including fear of police incitement, targeting, and escalation, there are other ways to get involved. There is need for on- and off-site community care, legal observers, communications, amplification of online messaging, etc. in most public actions. Because physical action and work is often the most visible, those of us who feel that we can’t participate in one or all on-the-ground actions feel left out or that we’re not doing enough. There’s lots of work.

Professional Risk

Professional risk lives next door to social risk. When you begin talking out about things that you feel strongly about, and holding others accountable for justice and equity in the workplace, there may be consequences including denial of responsibilities, raises, promotions, networks, invitations for speaking, conferences, and on and on. Seek out support for your work within your professional sphere– a caucus, so to speak– to help you and others speak out and up. Expect that some will applaud your efforts, and other feel threatened. You may find that your fear of reprisal (particularly, the more privilege you hold) was overblown. If you see that others are facing consequences due to their advocacy for justice, make sure to support them both privately and publicly.

Emotional Risk

It is a risk to care. Our emotional health is taxed daily. This is on purpose. I first drafted this in cold, sunless January of 2020. Then, a friend needed rent money. The impeachment trial– which was ultimately toothless– was on the radio. Now it’s June and there’s a pandemic, and an uprising, and it is a time of emotional chaos. To make the emotional connection with our own trauma and lack of agency in this system is hard enough– to make emotional connections to support and heal one another can feel overwhelming. Yet, I’d encourage you to open yourself up to hearing stories that others wish to share about their own journeys. If you can access therapy, counseling and mental health support, go. If you have access, work to make sure that everyone has access to excellent, affordable/free mental health support. I’ve also come to realize the emotional risk of telling the truth to yourself about family, resources, relationships, etc. Reconciling your ideal values with your concrete actions requires emotional risk and work.

Legal Risk

When we recognize that the legal system is built for White Supremacy, we can choose to to push the boundaries of that system in service of Black Liberation. Our networks often include police officers, judges, lawyers, and their spouses, and other family. We get waved along during inspections. We get free consultations and payment plans. We get our privacy protected. We’re seen as respectable and safe. How do we extend protections? How do we use this privilege to smash the systems of inequity.

Financial Risk

Taking on more financial risk one of the most important and available opportunities to us with greater financial stability. Financial stability is NOT only having cash in the bank– lots of people with privilege are struggling to pay bills, and do not feel that they can give as much as they like. Wealth is not only money, but it is also property, networks of relatives, available credit, banking relationships, etc. One example of taking on financial risk is co-signing a credit card with someone who has no or poor credit history. It is possible to limit your financial risk, while helping someone access the benefits of a higher credit score. Assessing your threshold of financial risk could allow you to give more money, altering working hours in order to dedicate more time to unpaid community work, offer services on a sliding scale, etc.

To close, I’ll share this FB post from Scott Woods via Wear Your Voice Magazine

Speaking out puts you outside the pale of polite spaces. 
Speaking out costs you opportunities, gigs, and jobs. 
Speaking out suggests that you have time to waste, that you don’t have certain things. 
Speaking out costs you friends and lovers and camaraderie. 
Speaking out generates as much loneliness as it does attention. 
Speaking out makes you “that” cat. 
Speaking out means there are people you won’t get to meet once you speak, but who will have an opinion of you anyway. 
Speaking out makes you a target, makes you susceptible to judgment, makes you vulnerable to people and systems alike. 
Speaking out will dry up your associations and make you a pariah, force you to wear the scarlet tweet in your world. 
Speaking out may cost you your world. 
Speaking out makes an argument out of nothing, makes a fight last a year. 
Speaking out gets you uninvited to parties. 
Speaking out gets you invited to meetings that only want to co-opt your presence because speaking out makes them look like they’re speaking out too. 
Speaking out gets you dismissed, gets you fired.
Speaking out can make you poor. 

So if you’re out here arguing that someone speaking out doesn’t cost them anything, you’re probably wrong.

Community Matters: Lisa Woolfork

Leave a reply

Black Women Stitch, Stitch Please

People sitting at tables. The people are a variety of races and ages. Most are women. They are all engaged in small group conversations.
Students and community members ordering food before Lisa Woolfork presents.

Lisa Woolfork presented at last night’s second “Community Matters”. I’ve known Lisa since the summer of 2017 when we were doing preparation and response to the white supremacist Unite the Right rallies. I’ve heard the origin stories of Black Women Stitch and Stitch Please before; each time I hear Lisa talk about it, she brings more layers and understanding to why this is such an important project for Black women and femmes.

Lisa is an amazing seamstress– she’s been sewing and quilting for over 20 years. As part her work she’d pay to go to retreats where she’d often be the only Black woman in attendance. Last night she talked about it took some traumatic events to make her realize that she didn’t want to be part of those circles anymore. Lisa talked about fear, risk, and regret that she didn’t act sooner. Some of my major take-aways from last night were:

  • It’s not the responsibility of Black people to educate White people about their microaggressions. Lisa disappeared from the White sewing community that she had been part of for 20 years and almost no one followed up with her to check in about her absence. It’s not on Lisa to get them to understand why she is no longer there. Lisa wants to create her own productive, supportive community.
  • It is unusual and special in Charlottesville for a Black person to be able to share their story and perspective to a mixed race crowd and for their perspective to be honored without question or gaslighting. I hope that we can grow these moments.
  • By Lisa sharing her full perspective– full of examples of strength and self-doubt, a space was created for younger Black women to share their own struggles and doubts, and to get validation from other community members of what they are achieving.
  • Lisa’s story is inspiring other Black women in attendance to create and further their own projects.