A Change Is Gonna Come

Having a relationship with Kellie Easton results in me: 1. Being in spaces I didn’t even know existed. 2. Showing up because I know it must be important if Kellie invited me and 3. Never really quite knowing what those spaces entail. Today though…starting early this morning, I was in a space that offered some deep and thoughtful validation.

I attended the morning session of the Center for Trauma Resilient Communities (https://www.crossnore.org/center-for-trauma-resilient-communities/) training. I was greeted by friendly Crossnore staff members, smiles were all over the place from other participants, and I was so happy I had my mask on so they couldn’t see my “this better be good to have me out before 8am face.”

We began with introductions of the team where one does work at the University of Louisville (Kentucky) and mentioned how they started the work right before Breonna Taylor was murdered. My shoulders immediately got tense as I thought about how heavy she’s been on my mind the past couple days thinking about the local shooting, and how I opted to not wear my EarBobz with her name today. Participants, in the room and on Zoom, introduced themselves and my chest started getting tight because they mentioned who they work for and also described the trauma resilient work they’re currently doing; where it validated my thoughts of there being a WHOLE LOT OF GRANT MONEY FLOATING AROUND THIS CITY for people to do the same things.

We did a group activity (which introverts despise) around 830a (still too early for me) that increased my tension because I realized there were allies in the room, but wondered how many were also accomplices (as mentioned by Dr. Mead during last week’s Vlog)? In other words, how is this different from every other DEI training I’ve attended with White folks?

Oh……..but I almost exploded when we were asked, “What are the challenges in building a Trauma Resilient Community?” Why? Because I was listening to how participants were answering the question and realized I wasn’t alone in my thinking, I wasn’t alone in how I feel being a Black native of this city, and how I feel watching the slow progression but real-time gentrification.

I would grunt and sigh in agreement with certain comments, all while keeping my head down with my hands clasped on my forehead praying, that even though the facilitator had already picked up on the sounds I was making, she wouldn’t call on me. This facilitator always has us doing mindfulness exercises, so I had a feeling she picked up on my energy, but I continued to pray anyway. Well, prayer still works, but it wasn’t in my favor in this instance…

Beatriz, the facilitator, called me by name and asked, “Micha, what are your thoughts on all this?” It was at that moment I wish I had opted for the Zoom meeting and could turn my camera off. See, I had been asked this before by people who I thought were serious about the work, and it backfired. Now I’m being asked this by people who know who my full-time employer is, yet Kellie invited me to show up as my authentic self. What was I to do? Well, my Momma always told us to go with our first minds, and my girl told me to give the people what they asked ‘fuh’.

I told them how triggering the conversation was, how there is so much money being cycled in this city and used for pointless things, i.e. the ginormous monument on 52 near WSSU’s campus that was supposed to “help close racial divide” yet all it does is light up at night, I apologized to one of the participants because I wasn’t allowing her to be her full self since all I saw when I looked at her was my traumatic experience with Leadership Winston-Salem (where we met). I don’t know if it was what I said, how I said it or if I had a look of anguish, but Beatriz did a full stop. She had someone open the door, had me plant my feet, breathe in and upon exhale, I used my arms to throw the trauma out the door while repeating, “Not Today! I am no longer responsible for that trauma, I am not going to carry the weight of racism and discrimination. NOT.TODAY!” She also did some jumping and stomping, but it was only a little after 9a and I ain’t really know them people like that. 💁🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

We did some other things and I was also able to schedule Beatriz for this week’s Vlog, but I ultimately left so much better than I arrived. Having been heard, seen, appreciated, supported and validated about the trauma my community continues to face, while leaving with tools to help me/us heal…that’s a training worth showing up early for. Oh, and for the Leadership Winston-Salem participant to say, “Don’t apologize to me. White people have received enough apologies…”, was icing on the vegan cake I wish I had right now.

Employers, non-profits, schools (staff AND students), preachers, and parents…we need to heal. We need the space to heal. More importantly, we need to recognize the trauma we are experiencING (present tense).

Since I’m now natural, I’m getting ready to go downtown and try this “Yoga in the Park.” These White gals are finna get these thick thighs and whatever pose these knees and back and stomach will allow. Downward dog, upward dog or lay on my mat and breathe dog.

Keep showing up as your authentic selves, keep telling your stories and the stories of our people, and keep telling our truths. There are accomplices out here, and for those who are still playing with us, open the door, inhale/exhale and tell them… “NOT TODAY!”

🎶It’s been a long time coming, but I knoooowww a change gon’ come. Yes it is🎶