The work of anti-oppression and liberation should be one of joy – it should be a natural way of our work. There is nothing more joyful that undoing the nonsense of colonization and whiteness. I believe that the work of white supremacy is hard and complicated. The work of inclusion, equity and justice – that is the work in our hearts. We already know how to do this. Whiteness and oppression has erased this knowing.

On a recent webinar, as the pandemic sealed us off in corners of bedrooms and makeshift home offices, the check-in question of the day was “How is this moment changing you?” Suddenly, I was struggling, feeling tears well up at my exhaustion; of the overwhelming nature of recent events, the current uncertainty.

In 1997 I lived in Palestine. It is where I learned first hand about rubber bullets (they don’t bounce off of your skin, FYI), about the militarization of so-called "serve and protect" forces and of what oppression looks like. I learned what it looks, smells and feels like to see bombs and bullets rain down over us as retaliation for protest and rocks thrown. I learned about rebellion, survival and resiliency; that what you call security is actually terrorism.

Let's explore one of the most challenging parts of organizational change towards the active practice of racial equity. Resistors. There are three different ways people show up in DEI and racial equity work. Observers, Advocates and Resistors.

White supremacy is designed to thrive and flourish on speed, silence and shame. An essential part of racial equity work is to understand that injustice, inequity, exclusion and domination are happening right now in our systems; in this very moment. There is no “neutral” in systems of oppression.