BECOMING AWARE...BRING YOUR SHOES:
INTRODUCTIONS FROM THE EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR

Can we chat?  Real talk?  I’ve been here for a little while now.  Since just before the election, which I’ve been chewing on…for months.  I’ve concluded that it’s time for introductions, from an historically informed, and curious perspective.  Let’s take it way back…as I tell you about myself.

I’m the great great great granddaughter of a woman who was 18 in 1865, when slavery was abolished in the United States. She was born in Norway, and immigrated to the States in 1872, at the age of 24.  That means she never experienced living in an America that legally endorsed owning people with dark skin. She did, however, experience an America that suppressed women's voices by denying them the right to vote.  I wonder, sometimes, if great great great grandma was aware.

Turns out she stepped into America during an historic time, as 1872 happens to be the year Susan B. Anthony was arrested for voting, as the law insisted her voice was not valid.  I wonder if great great great grandma was aware.

Fast forward 3 generations, to 1920.  My grandma was about to be the first generation of women in my family to finally be granted the right to vote at birth, but only because she was considered white. People of color’s voices (and Native American voices) were still deemed legally invalid for another 45 years.  When my grandma was born, in 1923, her future voice was deemed more valid than those whose skin was darker. Living in the Upper Midwest surely impacted how my grandma experienced this reality.  I wonder if she was aware.  I never worked up the nerve to ask her.

Another generation later, in 1965, my mom was 13 when people of color’s voices (and Native American voices) were finally deemed (sort of) valid enough to vote. Managing their own money was a separate issue. Women, regardless of skin tone, still couldn't open a bank account or apply for credit (like a mortgage) in their own names.  I'm not sure whether my mom was aware.  

I do know that her generation kept pushing; building from the labor of generations past. My mom became legally eligible to apply for credit in her own name in 1974, two years before my older brother was born. This helped protect her and her children from becoming homeless when an abusive relationship ended.  I think she may have been aware.

Another generation later, it was 1994, when Joe Biden was key to the passing of the Violence Against Women Act, which was modeled after the Civil Rights Act of 1964.  I have no specific memory of being aware.

It’s now 2021.  I'm 42.  A woman finally hails from the White House for the first time.  She is a woman of color.  I am acutely.  Aware.

I am acutely aware that Kamala Harris now occupies the White House in historical leaps and bounds, as just two generations before her, women of color were not even allowed to vote.

I am also acutely aware that she has chosen to work alongside a white man.  But not just any white man.  Vice President Harris has chosen to work alongside Joe Biden - the (definitely imperfect) white man who is largely responsible for passing the Violence Against Women Act. 

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I am acutely aware, because I choose to challenge the silence surrounding the history of women and the history of skin tone and also the history that extends beyond gender and this thing we call color.  I choose to challenge the silence surrounding the history of economically and politically oppressing women, people of color, Native Americans, and so many others; oppression that enables and fuels abusive relationships. 

I join countless generations of women, men, and nonbinary individuals across the rainbow who continue to work towards gender, racial, ethnic and overall human recognition of equality; working to be respected with economic autonomy; physical, emotional, and spiritual safety; and prosperity.  We deserve more than to simply survive.  We deserve to thrive.  We finally have a woman of color in the White House, where the political power of voice ultimately resides. Kamala's voice is especially significant because she is both the first woman and the first person of color to serve as Vice President of the United States.  

If my generational math serves me, Kamala made it to the White House just two generations after the women in her family were finally legally recognized as having valid voice.  Talk about strides.  As a woman, I am aware that the lighter tone of my skin affords me the privilege of being the 6th generation of women born into the right to vote, clearing the way for women to also lead our country.  My sisters of color are often only the 2nd generation of women in their families to see such hope.  If my generational math serves me.

Real talk.  Vice President Harris is helping us challenge systems of abusive relationships that differentially impact each one of us.  That’s one heavy ass weight.  Sexism and racism.  Misogyny and bigotry.  Two systems of abusive relationships among many.  So many abusive systems …including classism… she has that one weighing on her shoulders, too.  Classism.  And poverty.  And homelessness.  Veterans and queers and …am I allowed to say “queers”?  I’m learning that context and affiliation count, as I strive to lend my support.  She needs our support.  Vice President Harris.  Sexism and racism and misogyny and bigotry.  Classism, poverty, homelessness, Veterans, queers… is she allowed to say “queers”?  I hope she steers clear, because words matter, and this weight is massive.  She is imperfect, as are we all.  She deserves our support.  She faces systems of abusive relationships most of us cannot even begin to fathom. 

Standing up to abuse can be dangerous.  Fatal at its worst. Misogyny at its finest can be dangerous.  Fatal at its worst.  Bigotry.  No less.  Classism, too?  Given my understanding of homelessness and the slippery slope en route... I sincerely suspect so.

Real talk.  Let’s talk about what this really means for each of us.  Personally.  …Personally, I find myself thinking about 1492… versus 1872.  That song they taught us glossed over the Native American genocide to follow, after slavery moved on to African Americans.  Further abuses of power forced lighter skinned life into darker skinned women.  All of this before Susan B. Anthony’s vote the year my great great great grandma arrived from Norway.  And I don’t know anything about great great great grandma's awareness. 

I don’t know a lot about my family’s awareness of these early systems of oppression, at all.  Systems of oppression in the country we now share with those whose ancestors were here first, and those whose ancestors were shipped here against their will.  I do know that my family lineage has lived through the challenging of abusive systems since at least that fateful year, 1872, when a woman’s voice rose up, despite consequence.  It’s hard to know much about family history this far back.  I’m learning that it’s a privilege to have access to even the small amount of information we’ve been able to dig up. 

Knowledge matters.  Knowledge of family history.  Matters.  Understanding how history has impacted those who came before us.  Matters. 

Learning this history.  Can be painful.  It’s personal.  Often traumatic. 

As I learn about the intersections of gender and this thing we call race and also this thing we call ethnicity, I want to thank the darker skinned women in my life for taking me under their wings.  If even for a brief moment.  To explain how what I just said might have sounded pretty…fill in the blank.  Because I am imperfect.  I am still learning.

It’s worth it, to me.  The pain of learning.  The shame of errors. 

Women of color and Native women have shown me compassion.  I am deeply grateful for their sisterhood.

Sending love to all of our sisters, both present and past.

Sending love to our brothers, both with us and not.

Sending love to the haters, too. I’m aware we share this world.  If the Grinch could grow a heart, I believe you can, too.  Until then, sending much love.  For reals.  No shade.

…As I reflect on our past and present, I look to the future.  My son is a young adult.  The youngest generation to know a woman of color helping to lead our country… while he seeks to navigate this world… as a White man… learning about the lived experiences of those whose voices are finally being heard. 

I’m his parent, more than an Executive Director.  Sitting here with him, as we discuss the history of abusive systems.  A world in which people who look like him have abused their power in so many ways.  A world in which at least one person who looks like him has used their power… to learn from the Civil Rights Act and apply that knowledge to hold men accountable for harming women...and then go on to play second-in-command to the first man of color to hold the highest position of authority in our country...and then invited a woman of color to lead with him, as he was elected to that highest position of authority, himself.  My son is learning about his own power. As a man.  Whose skin is more akin to Joe Biden's than Barack Obama's or Kamala Harris's.

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Glass ceilings are being shattered all around us.  I'm wearing my shoes to show my son how.  Learning about ceilings is hard.  We need not carelessly step into the vestiges of oppression.  With awareness, we can protect our feet, while we clean up the mess left behind when injustice is...busted.

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To all the parents of boys and men ...and girls and women…and nonbinary children...all across the rainbow…

#raisingchildrenisneverdone 

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To all the femmes…and even those who are not...

#wearyourshoes 

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To both the lovers and the haters…

#worktobedone #togetherisbetter

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Sincerely,

Executive Director

Parent

DCMJunsilenced