There is something very satisfying that happens to my soul when I lay my head on the pillow each night and recount my daily lonely action. One day it was sending a group email with a link to sign up for a meet-and-greet for a local candidate for office. Another day I wrote a post on social media that resonated with a friend from the past and rekindled a connection. Many days I write a letter to my grandchildren that shares my reflections on institutional ground-in racism and reminds them how my skin tone and theirs provides the cover of privilege. Sometimes I am satisfied by the call I made to my two Senators and Congressional representative about a stance I implore them to take.

It was therefore unnerving to read this message posted by someone I know to usually be outspoken, with great certainty and conviction:

Say what? No matter what you say it won’t change anything???? This person who posted this, I know we have some shared values (devotion to family, for example) as well as many places where we disagree. But I pay attention to what he says. I stay curious about his viewpoint. He causes me to consider. I thought, and still think, that he matters, particularly when he takes action to share his perspective. People who know him pay attention. Maybe they take action because of his perspectives.

No matter what you say it won’t change anything???

Well, as soon as he posted this quote other people started liking it and commenting in agreement. Now, I know some of these folks, too. I believe we have had some shared values, but it is clear that many feel threats where I don’t and applaud solutions that I abhor. In the current political climate, where all these folks are now considered to be on the “winning side” and just gave Trump a “mandate” are they suddenly blind to their influence and what they have been able to accomplish? They just changed everything. They weren’t silent. So they must know their own lonely actions, attracting like shards of metal in a Woody Willy toy, made a difference.

If they decide to stay silent now because it won’t change anything, what does it mean? Silence is deafening in its absence. Does their silence indicate satisfaction? Approval? Panic? Embarrassment? Fear?

There’s no understanding some people.

As for me, I will not be silent. I pray not to be silenced until my last breath.

Silence is not a superpower. Silence is a noose.

And this is my lonely action for today.

In my pursuit of using my privilege and power as a white woman to advocate for racial equity, I am dedicated to sharing my insights with those around me who might be impacted by my journey. I take actions now with an eye on the future, particularly on my grandchildren, in the hope of instilling in them the values of a natural antiracist perspective. While I’m not a prominent figure on social platforms, I’ve found that my words and posts occasionally ignite meaningful discussions.

Recently, a TikTok video by Daniel Alexander (@the_shoe_fits) resonated deeply with me. In it, Alexander highlighted a troubling statement from Arkansas Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders, justifying the ban on an African American AP course in the state by claiming it spread a “propaganda leftist agenda” that taught kids to “hate America and hate one another.” Alexander aptly labeled this as “idiocracy,” and he asks one simple question: “If you are someone who truly believes that, why when faced with actual Black history do your kids automatically see themselves in the reflection of the slaveholders, and why do my kids, kids who have been very well educated on Black history and fully understand the history of America, why do my kids fully and completely see themselves in the reflection of the abolitionists?”

I was gobsmacked by the clarity of his question. I immediately shared Alexander’s TikTok with my own audience. He is a true influencer, mine is miniscule in comparison. The response was overwhelming to my own small action — within days, 10,000 people viewed it, 821 liked it, 55 saved it as a favorite, and 52 engaged with comments. It was evident that others reacted as I did. Thus, I’ve taken it upon myself to spread this question far and wide, discussing it with my grandchildren, their parents, friends, and anyone willing to listen.

For me, this reflection leads to an even broader query: What does a white person see in their mirror today? Do they perceive themselves as a historical oppressor or a catalyst for positive change? The urgency of self-assessment is heightened in the present moment. Regardless of when our lineage connects to American history, as white individuals today, we possess the power to take action. Throughout history, there have always been white allies and co-conspirators — abolitionists, organizers, leaders, writers, educators, and more — who recognized their role in the moment to drive change. I want to see a change agent reflected back in my own mirror.

Every day, I commit to leveraging my personal power to nudge those with equal or more influence to take meaningful action, and I intend to continue this effort until my last breath. My aspiration is that my dedication will inspire my grandchildren and their descendants to carry the torch forward. It should not take 12 generations, the number of generations of those whose bodies endured chattel slavery.

The words of Ibram X. Kendi from “Stamped From The Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America” encapsulate this vision: “An antiracist America can only be guaranteed if principled antiracists are in power, and then antiracist policies become the law of the land, and then antiracist ideas become the common sense of the people, and then the antiracist common sense of the people holds those antiracist leaders and politics accountable.”

In my journey, I’ve come to realize that being antiracist isn’t a one-time proclamation, but an ongoing commitment to action. As I navigate this path, I hope to inspire others — regardless of their level of influence — to join hands in creating a future where antiracist ideals are not just embraced, but embedded in every aspect of society.

I am writing this to deliver a message. I heard from more than 500 Black professionals, working at all levels in all sectors, who commented on a short three minutes TikTok video I created. In it I read a passage from Austin Channing Brown’s book, “I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness.” The timeframe only allowed me to recount a tiny fraction of her day, a typical work day — starting with her 8:55am arrival in her office building through her 10:05am conversation with her supervisor. It included assumptions made by people who keep stopping her in her workplace lobby in order to direct her to an outreach center (she is Black, Black people are poor so she must be looking for help), to the interaction with the white co-worker who follows her in through the building to their office (note that she is never stopped by anyone to be directed anywhere) and who, while Austin is just beginning to settle in to her cubicle, immediately reaches out to touch Austin’s hair (well, she has never seen a pineapple fro before). Austin draws back, startled by the move, which prompts the summons to her supervisor less than an hour later to discuss her attitude with a colleague who was “just trying to be nice.”

I tell you that I am not a TikTok influencer by any stretch of the imagination. I am a white person on an endless path to be anti-racist. My work has opened my eyes to my own ability to effortlessly be white without a thought to its power and advantage. My goal in creating this particular video and others like it was simply to share bits of what I am reading in hopes it would provoke curiosity and willingness to explore for another white person. None of my other videos have gained anything close to the reaction of this particular passage. This was about life at work and so I decided that LinkedIn was where I should write about it because, of the 23,700 views, 5,077 “likes,” 788 “shares and saves,” and those 549 comments, what was repeated over and over and over was how typical this experience is for every Black worker at every level every minute of every day. If you are Black, you don’t need me to remind you.

Many of the comments let me know that I had to keep up my personal work every day. Some people thought there was hope for positive change in me and in other white people; others felt I/we are hopeless My video negatively triggered far too many Black people, and for that I am sorry.

I am trying to get the attention of white workers, colleagues, managers, bosses. If you are white and don’t see yourself as in any way engaged in whiteness, I realize you are not yet on an anti-racist journey. I welcome you to be curious and observant, to learn more, to consider others’ perspectives, and to find one or two people similarly interested. But whether you are on this path or not, if you have read this far you can’t say racism doesn’t exist in yours or anyone else’s workplace. Thousands of Black people took the time to validate its existence. Here are a few examples of comments that were liked/underscored by others:

“This.This.This. Every day. All day.”

“I can’t tell you how my stomach would hurt, lunch spent throwing up then trying to “get it together” for the rest of the day.”

“I have learned to modulate my voice so it never comes across as confrontational. Soo many things … soo many.”

And since racism exists in the workplace, I think it is reasonable to recognize it exists outside the workplace.

Over the years, I’ve connected with many fantastic people on LinkedIn. Perhaps this will be a better place to lift up this truth. As someone I respect said to me, “Alisa, you don’t know many people at all on TikTok so really, what kind of action are you taking by creating these videos?” Well, I appreciate every single comment shared by anyone on my videos. I learn something from each one. And as white TikTokers are starting to pop up in the comment feed on all my videos, I think I’ll continue sharing as I go. If you are a contact of mine on LinkedIn, and in my life, I’m happy to share more details of where I’m learning so that you might start your own journey.

Austin Channing Brown’s entire book was a revelation to me. At times I felt like I was an interloper on her lessons and encouragement meant to be shared primarily with those who live the Black experience in a white world. But then there are those instances in “I’m Still Here” when Channing Brown seems to speak directly to me. She recounts an interaction with a white person who states, “Doing nothing is no longer an option for me.” Later on, she asks someone like me, “So what are you going to do differently?”

Speaking out, writing, encouraging, learning, training, advocating — these are the actions I will take.

By the way, Austin Channing Brown has just released the young reader’s edition of “I’m Still Here.” There are similar and different stories for these readers. Like the original book, Channing Brown writes from the heart for Black girls and Black boys. I will read the new edition with my grandchildren and together we will take time to ponder what we can learn from the experiences of others and discover actions we can take. They are becoming very accustomed to serving as my anti-racist traveling companions.

#antiracism #equityandinclusion #workplacelearning #purposedriven

Originally published at https://www.linkedin.com.