Kujichagulia

Self-determination. What does that mean anyway? As someone who grew up racially ambiguous in a couple of really different environments, I’ve always struggled with that. At least, since I started intentionally celebrating Kwanzaa a few years back. I don’t think I had ever really heard of it before then actually. But I guess it’s just hard for me to imagine a world in which anyone has any control over defining or naming themselves, speaking for themselves, or even creating for themselves. I was taught those were always activities that were to be done, “a certain way.”

Black, white, African American, bi-racial, brown, colored, mixed, high-yellow, mulatto…just a few of the identifiers I’ve been given over time. Over the years, it hasn’t seemed to matter how I defined myself. I imagine that’s probably why I had never really given it much thought until I started doing racial equity work back in 2017. And even now, many people still give me names I never gave myself. Lazy, weird, off-putting, polarizing, kind, mean, manipulative, generous, inconsiderate, charismatic, graceful, outgoing, gentle, rough around the edges. It’s not just limited to how I am either—but what my roles or vocations are too. Singer, community organizer, motivational nurturer, activist, teacher, evangelist, preacher, elder, leader. So most days, the idea of defining myself seems like a pretty big waste of time. Even something as simple as acknowledging myself as an introvert—someone who recharges privately & is drained by large groups of people, is typically met with a, “no you’re not!!” As if they are somehow inside of my body and can discern what makes me tired and what doesn’t.

Only recently has the work of defining & naming myself become something important to me. And I use the word work intentionally. What I’ve discovered is that it’s actually much easier to let someone (or someones) tell you who you are and how you should be. Because self-determination actually requires self-awareness. And frankly, many of us just don’t reflect on ourselves or check ourselves out in the mirror outside of measuring the consequences of one stylistic choice over another. We’re too busy trying to keep food in our bellies and gas in the tank to be concerned about anything other than what we need to know to survive. Developing self-awareness is a luxury given by time and space. Time and space that most of us don’t have to give to anyone—least of all ourselves.

There’s a bible verse in the first chapter of James that talks about looking in the mirror and, after you’ve walked away, forgetting what you look like. The context is someone who is given instruction and doesn’t follow them. Or someone who has been given knowledge and wisdom, but doesn’t apply it to their lives or allow it to impact their actions or decisions. But like, who has time to look at their face in the mirror unless they are altering it in some way? No, but really. Who does that?? When was the last time you saw someone over the age of 5 just look in the mirror at themselves. Not to figure out what to fix or how, but just to look and learn. For me, I think that might just be never. And if so, I definitely don’t remember it.

Maybe it’s because I’m poor and spend most of my time around relatively poor people. But taking a moment to look at myself, then another few to think about what I’ve seen, then a few more still to name what it is that I’ve seen, is not a regular practice of mine. And when I do it metaphorically, it’s typically because I’m replaying a conversation over and over and over again in my head to see where I may have offended someone, or how I could have done a better job to articulating what I was thinking. How I should have paused longer before responding to a certain question. How I should (or shouldn’t) have made a certain look with my face. What questions I failed to ask. What many may refer to as my “self-awareness” is probably more accurately named my “self-critique.” Because I’m never actually looking to learn. Never looking to bear witness. I’m looking to improve or fix…because the one name I have cemented in my mind is “not good enough.”

To create with consideration of my own joy, rather than making something that might be most appealing to others, rarely crosses my mind. So when I think about doing any of these things myself, the first question that comes up is, “with what energy?” Quickly followed by, “but how??” Yes, I can use my physical vocal cords to say words, but how do I choose which words to use if not for what others would most like to hear? How do I decide what to name or how to define myself, if not for those who have the greatest power over the resources I need to survive? And okay, even if I can figure out all of those things, do I then code-switch so that I don’t become a source of discomfort for anyone else? There’s already enough tough stuff in this world—I don’t want to contribute to it being harder for anyone else…right? In a society of manufactured scarcity, it all just feels like too much.

But then…when I think about kujichagulia as something built upon the umoja of a particular people, that load seems to lighten. In my mind at least, it becomes for feasible to figure it out if we’re holding one another while we’re doing it. If we’re all connected, then have enough diversity to be able to discern the ways in which we are the same. To identify the pieces we share—and use our collective intelligence to give it a name. From that perspective, I suppose it doesn’t even really matter which word we land on. Because we’ve developed shared understanding along the way. It stops being about perfection & choosing the “right” word, and becomes more about cohesion, and strumming our common threads. What if defining, naming, speaking, & creating for ourselves isn’t four separate things—but one? What if it’s not word smithing, and thinking, and doing, and brainstorming? What if it’s not conferences or meetings? What if it’s bringing out some instruments, opening some space on the floor, and seeing what happens? What it it’s being present for what room looks and sounds like after an hour?

As a people, it’s so hard to bring us together—let alone get us to agree. I mean, have you seen the fights that break out when we try to discuss how to properly eat grits?! But at an individual level, it seems completely unrealistic to do all the naming, speaking, defining, & creating ourselves. (And then there’s the question of what do words matter if we don’t have a shared understanding of what they mean, but that’s an esoteric post for another time.) So we have to do it within the context (and with the support) of community. But I’ve found that if you play music loud enough for everyone to hear, somehow there’s no limit to the number of people who can do the electric slide in unison, regardless of what kind of music is being played. All you need is a couple of people to start it. Then it doesn’t even need a leader. And if someone who doesn’t know how to do the dance happens to be around, you can typically expect they’ll know by the end of the 2nd verse.

At this point in my very short life, to me kujichagulia is actually less about the specific acts of using a voice, pen, or paintbrush to express who we are. It’s about, as a community, finding the beat of our drums that is aligned with the beats of our hearts, playing it without hesitation, and vibing together. And individually, it’s about finding the way my body twists and turns and slides to the beat. Then it’s doing it with my eyes wide open, smiling at my people all around me. These days, when words mean so little and are more likely to become reasons to fight than unite, it feels more important than ever to find one’s tribe. The place, I’d say, where your self-determination is aligned with those around you. But I don’t think that has to happen through discourse. If the path to self-determination begins with self-discovery, maybe we don’t start with lifting the un-liftable loads of identification, synthesis, reflection, & experimentation. Maybe it begins by breathing into our own rhythms, and riding the beat home—wherever it leads.

Individual Collectivity

Yesterday I was a part of a collective decision-making process for a group of about 60 people.

It was absolutely horrible. And incredibly educational.

I'll try not to touch on too many details, because they aren't really the point. But after taking the last few hours to process both independently and with a colleague, I'd like to share. There were several super valuable things that were highlighted for me during this 3 hour process. I can't make any promises, but I'll try to summarize them here. Here we go.

1) The quality of a decision will always be affected by the conditions under which it is made.

As much as we would like to say that the ends justify the means, the reality is that the means *impact* the ends. They can poison or prosper a decision or result that may have otherwise been healthy--even if the decision is the same. Asking someone to make a choice or come to a conclusion under duress or coercion reduces its integrity. We must combat the demands of "perfection" and urgency for urgency's sake with empathy, forethought, patience, and understanding.

2) Intent & purpose are best served explicitly.

If we don't make clear our "whys", the door remains inevitably open for everyone to assume their own "why." This would be great if we were all psychically linked. However, we're not. And where there's room to assume, there's room to folks to assume *differently.* And when we're making collective decisions by way of consensus--that, my friends, is a problem.

3) The how is important from the beginning. Process can't be an afterthought.

Yes--many of us have "built planes while in the air" and survived. But would any of us, after counting the actual cost, recommend our next flight be taken the same way? Of course not. Because as much as experience is a great teacher, it's easier to use a saw on the ground. As much as many of us would love to throw process to the wind and just "do," that's not only highly ineffective, but leaves equity to chance and typically hurts a lot of people needlessly in the process.

4) Equity is the result of intentionality.

Guess what? In 2018, capitalist "modern" society, we've all been conditioned to destroy equity and humanity. So if we aren't intentional about establishing equity, it's not going to happen. Imperialism has become imbedded in our DNA so marginalization is our default y'all. We know this.

5) The erasure of individuals is impractical & unhelpful.

As much as I appreciate the commitment to collectivity, condemning conversation that is not almost strictly "we" is problematic as well. In fact, the use of "we" when it should be "I" is used frequently to speak on behalf of those who haven't actually voiced their position. Taking responsibility for our own experiences actually requires the appropriate use of "I" statements and not assuming we have the ability to speak for others without their involvement or consent is a key piece of healthy communication.

Also, a healthy, authentic collective understands the value of the individual within the collective. The the full expression and realization of the diversity of each individual is why many of us are fighting for liberation. So as much as we embrace the "one for all" mentality, we cannot neglect the beauty of "all for one" either. While this typically slows processes down and is, for many, counter-intuitive, we have to remember that many of our intuitive behaviors have been molded by oppressive systems. Our determination to challenge our "norms" and choose equity over equality is what saves us from "mob mentality."

6) People are triune beings--mind, body, & spirit. And our decisions are impacted by all three.

Pretending we can be all knowledge and action leads to escapist (often self-harmful) choices and mental breakdowns. I have often heard the phrase "hurt people hurt people," when discussing the reasons for people making inconsiderate or harmful choices that negatively impact others. I'd like to take that a step further with, "Broken people build systems that break." If we do not do the difficult work of deconstructing our own internalized oppression as a priority than whatever we build 'after' we conquer this oppressive system will only serve to oppress in new ways. Our histories and trauma enter into every decision we make, so we have to not only be aware of them, but actively work to heal them. Oppressive systems have worked to dehumanize people for centuries--this includes the devaluing and lack of acceptance for our emotional and spiritual experience. If we are to truly work to see the humanity of all beings restored, we must begin with reclaiming our own as we do the work, not afterwards. That is what liberation looks like.

7) Bias will never be eradicated, so we have to keep good track of its location.

Even those of us with the best intentions of "balance," have bias. Every interaction we have with human beings and media shapes and develops our preconceived favor or misgivings about a situation or person. That's how we're wired for survival! So trying to achieve this unattainable goal of "impartiality" or "unbiased" anything isn't just unrealistic, it's problematic because it offers the illusion that "unbiased" is something that it's actually possible for a human to obtain. What's far more helpful is that we are able to quickly assess where our bias lies when entering a situation so that we might have the ability to filter the words we say & decisions we make through that lens to ensure that our reason for doing something isn't solely our bias for or against something.

8) Words matter. Clear communication doesn't happen by accident.

It may "all be semantics," but semantics actually has an effect on things. If we all agree to run to the nearest store in a little bit, but for some people that means a gas station within the hour and for others it's a Walmart in the next 5 minutes, we're not likely to end up at the same destination at the same time--if ever, together. As a friend of mine likes to say, "Words mean things. And people believe them." So we have to be intentional about what we say because we are certain to develop feelings/ideas and eventually act upon them. And ain't nobody got time to build houses based on misunderstanding the instructions.

Ultimately, culture is everything. All I've just said falls secondary to it. So we have to build and mold our communities with who we want to be when we arrive at our destination at the forefront of our minds. As many a cultural consultant will tell you: "Culture eats strategy for breakfast." So we can't just talk it and occasionally walk it, we've got to live it.

Good things ahead y'all. Leggo!

<3 K. Marie

Multi-ethnic Jesus

Can I talk a moment to be transparent? Thanks y’all.

I’m, frankly, tired. Due to where I live, my identity as a person of color must be muted, rather than exemplified, when it comes to practicing my faith. It frustrates and saddens me that to wear my “Black Lives Matter” shirt into my church would be “asking for trouble.”

Now we all know that there are times and places where we, regularly, have to mute certain things. For example: Bringing up politics at work isn’t typically recommended. And certain industries require a level of temperance from those who might be a bit more rambunctious by nature. So I’m not being naïve and saying that my “full self” should be on display everywhere I go. But what I am saying is that when I walk into my church, I put every part of me through a sifter—ensuring that none of the pieces that make me “different” are too large or loud. And I am exhausted.

The problem is: What’s the alternative?

You see, I live in northwestern Vermont. And while I live in the most diverse county in the state, the state-wide population is still at least 90% white. It always has been, but lately it’s looking more and more like it won’t always be, as each year the amount of diversity flooding one of the healthiest, whitest, and safest states in the Union is increasing exponentially. Known to many as “where Bernie Sanders is from,” there’s not really a lot going on here, besides, well, an influx of brown people. And on paper, that’s working out great! Vermont law-makers are known to be “progressive” and “inclusive.” I mean, the state that took on Monsanto must be forward-thinking, right? Of course. Vermont is, technically, forward thinking in a lot of ways. But unfortunately, our forward-“thoughts” are often more forward-“ideas” that aren’t rooted in experience or practice. They aren’t the result of community interaction, but rather external observations. So, while we say “all are welcome,” what is lived is “come and be like us.” And because it is assumed that this inclusive mentality is just as strong in reality as it is on paper, the idea of “training” on the topic is seen as an insult. It’s astonishing just how often I’ve heard that “Hate doesn’t grow in the rocky soil of Vermont.” That “racism doesn’t exist here.” Or, best of all, “All lives matter here.”

Now please don’t misunderstand me, if all of these things were actually true, I would be singing an entirely different tune. But the greatest danger here is that the words are out in full force, but the actions and reality don’t match. A part of the reason we’re in this predicament is because, from the perspective of thousands of well-meaning white people, the statements above are completely true based on their experiences. The issue, however, is that the experiences of every single person of color over the age of 10 stands in direct conflict with those perspectives.

Yes, I said the age of 10. That was not a typo. The struggle is real.

Church, for me, has always been something I’ve desired to be a safe space. In fact, over the course of history, places of worship have usually gone into the “safe space” territory. And growing up, my faith was always a central part of my culture. But, as a millennial woman of color, the contemporary, white church that I grew up loving (not the exact same church, but a similar one) has become more of a “space,” where I’m allowed and welcomed, but my “blackness” is tolerated, not embraced. Rather than being a place of refuge where I can find freedom, it is, most days, a place where I can worship as long as I crucify my “flesh.” Again, please don’t misunderstand—I have a deep appreciation for the call to holiness and sacrificing my desires for will of God. But at what point do we acknowledge that all things culture-based are not displeasing to God? At what point do we recognize that somewhere along the way we’ve lumped in ethnicity that is “different from our own” in with the poor & lowly? As something to be “improved upon?” As something that “we just don’t do here?” If the Spirit of God dwells here, then how can there be limits on what “we do?” Shouldn’t there only be the tearing down of boxes that we put His manifestation in, not reinforcement of their borders?

There is nothing more diverse and inclusive than the Holy-Spirit. He is all things to all people. And as you travel the world and begin to see His Presence through a wider lens, the manifestation of His Spirit is more of a technicolor dream coat than a robe of pure white. After all, isn’t the grafting in of other nations a big part of the reason Jesus (Yeshua) came? So that those who weren’t the biological descendants of Abram could become a part of the lineage of Abraham? And in what’s now know as the Great Commission, Jesus said to “make disciples of all nations,” which is to help the people learn of [him], believe in [Him], and obey [His] words. He didn’t say to help the people learn English, sing songs with these chord progressions, and only talk about these topics & rejoice in this way so that the people who have been here a long time can remain comfortable. When Jesus instructed the disciples to drop their nets and “Follow Me,” I don’t recall him asking them to also, “stop speaking your native tongue.” In fact, on the day of Pentecost, which is arguably one of the most glorious outpourings of Holy Spirit in the Anno Domini church, the members of the body all began to speak in other languages! I think here it’s important to note that what it didn’t do was allow all people to speak one language. What that tells me about the Holy Spirit is that it takes the path of flourishing diversity to achieve unity, not the path of assimilation.

So when I enter a church that I call my home, whose congregation is becoming increasingly sprinkled with people of color, and the inclusion of my (our) culture is an afterthought rather than a priority—an uphill battle rather than an exciting step of development, I am tired. When the leadership sees diversity training as optional or not a priority because “we’re all the same in Christ,” I am concerned because while Christ might make us pure in the eyes of God, He doesn’t make us all white. I am tired because church is all fine and well, as long as I come with my quiet, reserved, minimized face on so that no one is intimidated or uncomfortable or offended.

But sometimes, I just want to come as me--all of me.

How and When Lives Matter

If you have not yet come around to #blacklivesmatter on the principle that #alllivesmatter, I do not judge you or think less of you. And I certainly don’t think you’re a “bad” or “stupid” person. But, similar to those who oppose feminism out of concern for true equality, I think there’s simply a misconception (likely no fault of your own) on what this movement is truly about. Facts remain that (in general) in the United States of America (and its media) African Americans are treated radically different for a variety of “reasons.” The problem, I’d like to suggest, isn’t that justice was not brought for the deaths of the Tamir Rices & Freddie Greys. It’s that a system that claims to be colorblind is very clearly not. It’s when a young brown boy (Tamir Rice) & a young white man (Dylan Roof) have the police meet them with different responses–choosing a more strategic & gentle route with the one of the two who had already accrued a body count upon their arrival.

If the problem were the lack of justice actually obtained with our justice system, this fight would read something like #justicematters. But that fact is not the one for which resolution is currently being sought. The problem that the #blacklivesmatter movement is attempting to address is that African Americans, or “Blacks” are treated with far more hostility & less rationality than “Whites.” The issue here is not simply the mistreatment of one group of people, but the lack of EQUAL treatment for everyone.

You see, it’s not the shooters that are the primary problem here, it’s the system that processes them and tells them that there are different standards of appropriate, wise, and safe self governance depending on the amount of melanin in your skin. The thing here, is that this is not a black vs. white issue–although many would have you believe it is. It is an established and imbalanced system vs. social equality. If this were simply a government issue, it wouldn’t be that big of an issue; the root is far more embedded and subconscious than most realize because it’s the ingrained belief and social norm that African Americans are more aggressive, less rational, more manipulative, and less contributing than other members of society BECAUSE they are African American. This more, in turn, allows society to find it acceptable that they are treated more sternly–as one would misbehaving children, than others. Unfortunately, this is the same mentality that determines a “successful & respectable” black adult to be an exception rather than the standard. Which, in celebrating the “rare occurrence” of an admirable black person, and simply reporting their failures, reaffirms this idea. When that which is considered standard for the white youth is considered impressive for the black youth, their view of themselves (along with the community’s view of them) is further shaped in the current unbalanced mold of our culture. It subconsciously justifies the different treatment. And it’s a cycle that self-propels, accommodates, and rationalizes.

The most dangerous thing I’ve found this far is, however, that I haven’t a single realistic clue on how to stop it.

-Selah-