Many of the climate solutions that are currently being developed and financed come from a small and largely white part of the population and will remain inaccessible to most. These “solutions” fail to understand that climate and environmental justice intersect and underpin the movements for economic, gender, housing, and LGBTQIA+ justice as well as the many other struggles. Additionally, many of these solutions are created in isolation, without community input, and without the praxis necessary to address the core of the crisis.

Why is it that those most privileged in society are being resourced to mitigate a crisis fueled by their own dismissal of Indigenous traditions, hoarding of resources, and extractive practices?

For those of us who are living in bodies that are constant targets of state violence. For those of us who have experienced genocide and are descendants of survivors of genocide. For those of us who have been forcibly removed from our homelands. Those who are systematically cut off from power, resources, and stolen from but continue to survive. For those of us who come from enslaved people. Those who know so many who have not made it and will not make it but continue on. We understand the necessity to have a constant and steady practice and outlook toward a free, just, and joyful future.

The journey toward collective liberation and freedom demands a practice of steadiness. A commitment to finding the ground beneath you and staying firmly rooted for the long game. Resisting and undoing centuries of colonial, imperialist, and genocidal devastation isn’t a short-term project. And if you’re in your body and paying attention, it’s impossible to not feel the deep grief that comes from witnessing this. It’s impossible to not feel overwhelmed.

I offer steadiness as an antidote to apathy.

It’s no surprise that the recent Supreme Court decision to upend affirmative action triggered another wave of statements. And many of these statements warrant a deep side eye as they are coming from institutions that operate from the same ideology as the conservative Supreme Court judges. That is to say, they willfully and actively resist acknowledging the impacts that race has on access to higher education, opportunities, and livelihood in this country.

As a queer Black woman, I’m situated at an intersection of identities that demand I dream the world I want to live in into reality. Even as anti-blackness, misogynoir, classism, and a myriad of other oppressions push Black women to the edges of our society, we are also inextricably linked to the communities we come from and chose to be with. We are the backbones, feeders, connectors, nurturers, truth-tellers, curse breakers. Because of this when one of us is resourced, a community becomes resourced. Living in a society that doesn’t expect us to survive, forces us to create frameworks and shift paradigms that create space for us and others to exist within.

When we build relationships that are politically, socially, and justly aligned, we can look around and see that we aren’t alone in our desire to move us all closer toward liberation. There is rest to be found in knowing you exist in a strong network. It’s these networks that keep us afloat and don't let us sink when we need to rest. I want to live in a world where people say, “If I can’t do it, I have a community of people that will.”

“A year ago I stepped away from what might very well be my last full-time role in an organization. My decision to start consulting wasn’t part of a long-term goal or something I considered in depth before leaving my last job. It was a leap I made in hopes of relieving the crushing pressure I felt as a young Black person in the nonprofit sector. I didn’t know exactly what I was getting into with consulting but I did know that the mental, physical, and emotional toll of making space for myself as a Black woman, trying to make space for others, and doing my job, all while being underpaid, was too much.”

Often conversations about power and privilege stall when it demands someone to give up power. It’s not the norm. It involves introspection and humility. And sure, we are still dealing with many issues that plagued us fifty or more years ago but shouldn’t that inspire us to radically shift who is supported and resourced to address the issues?

With more attention on Black, Indigenous, People of Color, and others from marginalized identities, there is a sense of things shifting. This, in some cases is true but largely, this representation is performative and not backed up by structural changes that will lead to long-term benefits for those most impacted by structural racism and oppression. In fact, in some instances, DEI has further exacerbated and coddled the problematic ways white leadership and organizations maintain the status quo.

In this blog, Angela and Grace share their motivation for a fellowship, the vision and design thinking they’ll be engaging in, and what their hopes are for their work moving forward. We’re pleased to be able to share their perspectives with you.

Grantees are asked to innovate and yet, foundations have pursued the same unimaginative, trite and rigid funding strategies for decades. Given the devastating impacts of state violence, systemic under-resourcing of communities of color, and climate change for Black folks, it’s vital for our communities to be resourced —not just to survive, but to thrive and dream.

IT’S OKAY TO LEAVE SOMETHING GOOD FOR SOMETHING BETTER. And just because it’s good doesn’t mean you don't deserve better. Give yourself permission to unapologetically pursue the depths of your fulfillment, joy, and happiness. (Applies to all aspects of life)

In a world where no one bets on me, I’m going to wholeheartedly and unapologetically bet on myself. I am turning away from giving my time, energy, and creativity to organizations and investing it in myself. I am going to give myself the full-time energy that I have given to building the dreams and organizations of institutions that didn’t deserve it.

I was able to let down the wall of resilience I maintain to survive and give way to softness. I took the time to readjust boundaries that allow me to remain soft and energized in an unrelenting world. I reclaimed “no” even when it came with guilt and shame.

Black women are propped up and tokenized only until we are “too much”. Until it’s realized that we are interested in systemic and institutional change, and not to merely be there to add more Black faces to diversity committees. And then we’re pushed out.

As I introduce myself to new networks, communities, people, I have recently looked at my bio and yawned. Who did I write this boring bio for?

It has always been possible to center and uplift the intersections at which Black folks experience the world. You all have been aware of the high turnover of Black folks at your organizations. You knew that folks in leadership were perpetuating racism. Affinity groups may have made you uncomfortable but they were never discriminatory or unfair. You could have dismissed racist volunteers and donors a long time ago.

Maybe now you are starting to realize that moving towards equity and justice is a long-term commitment to anti-racism and dismantling white supremacy in your organization. Maybe you’ve realized that your organization’s all white leadership and boards are problematic and have been overtly complicit for years. Maybe this time you are watching the pain of our struggle as Black people play out on a national stage and you won’t dismiss it as us being “too sensitive”.