Power and potential
A personal reflection
Hello dear reader,
There seems no better time to share this. It’s taken me several months to work out what I want to say, sitting with the discomfort and embracing something that had the ability to shift my thinking. Kay Badu’s story of their experiences in the Civil Service prompted me to pen my reflections a little faster. There is so much that needs to be said; even as I write this piece, my efforts seem small and inconsequential, unlikely to significantly move the needle.
There’s something, for me, about writing and naming some of these experiences. I’m openly offering a view in the hope it is made better with others. I can only speak from my experience. The story I will tell, of participating in a collaborative inquiry into the conditions that enable us to show up as anti-racist in our organisations, is mine and mine alone.
So, here goes.
The power of conversations
I participated in Carolyn Parker’s action research inquiry to expose myself to challenge, to begin to have conversations with others. I wanted to discuss anti-racism and racial inequalities more openly. I was joined by five other senior white women. We all came from different places and were part of organisations that were all in different spaces. There were some commonalities and differences unique to each of us based on where we are in our own journeys. What we learned about ourselves and each other through the process or the learning and the growth and the changes that we want to make for ourselves.
The inquiry created a safe and brave space to talk. The conversations were honest, difficult, open, and raw. We were, in our own ways, trying to affect some personal and organisational changes, to use our experiences in the inquiry as a catalyst. We learned better when we engaged and interacted in conversations, using the space to decide how we wanted to be together to get the best out of one another and the best out of the experience. We spoke at length about what it might mean to speak up. Our agitation and restlessness was something that knitted us together.
Personally, I hoped the process would challenge me and help me to challenge others. The conversations we had opened my mind to different perspectives, to the idea that things could be better. I struggled with the framing of the research question, wondering if there was a different way to look at it, and then reflected on why I thought that. But that’s exactly why I wanted to work with other people…because I wanted to make sense of and have my thinking challenged. My discomfort with the question was a good dynamic to explore and to think about with the group.
I believe in the power of conversations. The single biggest thing I have learned from doing this is that there is never a bad time to have an awkward or difficult conversation. We often think we need to “wait” for the right time, but there is no such thing. The right time is when you think you need to have the conversation. And in that space, I felt able to show up, acknowledge the unacknowledged, and speak the unspoken. It’s what helped me to be present differently day-to-day.
Being ‘not racist’ is not enough
Anti-racism: the active process of identifying and eliminating racism by changing systems, organisational structures, policies and practices and attitudes, so that power is redistributed and shared equitably.
- National Action Committee on the Status of Women’s International Perspectives: Women and Global Solidarity conference
I’m sitting here writing, thinking to myself that I need to do more. What can I do from my role? How do I actively challenge everyday behaviour? How do I go from being an “ally” to an “accomplice”?
Personally, I am scrutinising the seat in which I sit and using it as a source for further action. I am supporting the humans currently alongside me, and also shaping and improving the structures of my organisation. I am learning to voice my uncertainty, to be curious about why I feel discomfort, to sit with my reactions, of the work I need to do, of the things I don’t want to accept, to speak bravely, and not see myself as the exception.
I am working to be a better ally. The first step, for me, has been embracing my responsibility to continuously educate myself and find avenues where I can take action, big and small. I have been learning from Cheryl Samuels and Tracie Jolliff, but I also know I must do my own work on this.
I’ve thought hard about how I can intervene to create a more equitable and just organisational environment. I know my forays will be clumsy, at first. Unless I’m intentional and thinking about the role I play in disrupting policies and practices that surround me, then I’m complicit in an unfair system that harbours an institutional bias, often in ways I don’t even realise. If we don’t know how to look at our actions, reflect, take real responsibility for their consequences on others, and then aim toward changing our future actions, we can’t truly do this work.
I’m uncomfortable in saying I’m successful at anti-racism, because I don’t actually know. I hope I am. I would describe myself as “working towards anti-racism,” rather than “anti-racist” because I am learning and trying to get better all the time. I know there’s more work to do. I haven’t got all these things right. I’ve made mistakes along the way; I will no doubt make more. Anti-racism is a process, and I’m aware I have much further to go.
Racism is not just out there
What action have you personally taken to make your organisation more diverse and inclusive? What self work have you done/do you still have to do, to enable you to use your power and privilege to address inequity of experience and outcome?
It’s easy to fall into thinking that racism is a phenomenon of the past. It’s not. Racism is not just out there; it is a chronic daily occurrence. Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not happening.
We each have a role to play in creating an inclusive workplace. Kay’s story is appalling, unsettling, and sadly, all too common. I’m becoming more aware of how whiteness stays centered, even in moments where it really shouldn’t be. I’m getting a sense of how history operates in the present, how we have come to have the society we have that positions people in different ways, to see how those old stories about who people are operate in big and small ways and work deliberately against them.
This story laid bare the systemic problems within governmental organisations. We have pretended that we are much better at addressing racism than we really are — and without honesty, we will go nowhere fast. I feel a responsibility to directly impact the extent to which my organisation counters historical inequity, inequality, and injustice. I feel the weight of this responsibility, it is constantly on my mind — as is the presence of risk. The risk of being involved in the action research inquiry, of showing up as anti-racist, of getting it wrong, of making things worse. I’m becoming more aware of my appetite and perception of the risks, and how it differs to others.
Everyone has a role to play in racial justice. It’s the job of senior leaders to do this more than anyone else. We have an opportunity and imperative to encourage these conversations, support others, and demonstrate personal action. This work is deeply personal — it starts within, requires looking in the mirror, and means taking action. Accountability is about showing up when needed — not just when it’s convenient for us or for the optics.
I’ve thought hard about what kind of a senior leader I want to be, what kind of environment I want to create, and what impact I want my actions and behaviours to have. True allyship is accountability and action. I aspire to be the senior leader that cares about and understands equity, inclusion, and diversity. I have a part to play — educating myself, uplifting voices of experience, using my power to remove barriers, listening to how people want me to help, and amplifying the voices of others. But what do I do when my conditions aren’t met, how do I still show up?
There is no passive way to build an inclusive culture; it is long overdue for us to step up. The Civil Service has real work to do. We need to take a look at ourselves, and also our internal cultures, processes, and systems. Kay’s story was an invitation for us all to take a closer look at what is happening around us. We can’t let our discomfort stand in the way.
Comfort is complicity. Discomfort means change
Silence is a strange thing. It can be louder than words. And there are different types of it: sometimes it surrounds us, other times it takes up space, filling gaps with something unsaid, often, it is an armour.
For me, it’s rarely acceptable to remain silent. But sometimes it’s difficult to know what to say, let alone how to say it, or when to cede space. I often don’t know what to say. I fear getting it wrong. I question my own intentions and motivations. I tend to rush in to fix a problem. Instead, I’m listening. I’m resisting the urge to centre myself. I’m learning to sit with the discomfort, to get comfortable with speaking with my own voice and knowledge.
Silence and indifference during times of great strife never accomplished anything. The difficult conversations are the ones we need to be having — and that makes them difficult to have. It requires deep work and social bravery, all of the time. I recognise that this work is not without risk. But there’s dialogue rooted in different experiences. If we’re to make change, then we’ll need to collectively think about the dynamics happening in our own groups, teams, and organisations.
Power matters
We don’t talk about power and resources enough, particularly who has access to opportunity and influence.
All social relations are laden with power. It is always present — casting a shadow and being a force for change. To be a white woman, senior in my organisation, is to hold power, albeit one that is sometimes undefined, unwritten, and fluid. It is nested within an organisational structure and a hierarchy…and also codified in rules, process, and procedures. We lead out of who we are. And with this power comes the potential for influence, coercion, and impact. If we don’t address power deliberately and strategically, we may replicate patterns that sustain an inequitable status quo.
Power is complex. We hold different forms of power, to different degrees, at different points in our lives. And understanding the limits of our power may be more important than understanding the substance of it.
- How are we powerful?
- How do we find the edges of power?
- What is the impact of power?
- Where lie the consequences of using power?
- What is the fragility of power?
Through our discussions into the conditions, we explored how power works, the shapes it takes, the limits it has, and the fragility with which we hold it.
Fear is an amplifier, or brake, on power
Fear itself may act as an amplifier, or brake, upon power. So, to understand what our fears are, and how fear operates upon us, is valuable.
I fear I am not going far enough. We need to go further faster than we already are. At today’s pace, and without more revolutionary ideas, we may not see changes in our lifetime — or even our children’s lifetimes. I feel I am constantly having to temper the need to do more with what is possible in my lifetime, striking a balance between my fears and aspirations. But change takes time to work its way through. It necessitates meeting people where they are, as they are, in their journeys. And these two things don’t sit comfortably together.
I fear a false sense of security. I know I need to go further, to challenge myself whether what I have said or done has been impactful or even enough. Conversely, I often feel like stepping into something dangerous, both personally and professionally. Whilst walking this tightrope of perceived and real risk, I fear I could become complacent or stay silent when I should speak up. Will I get over my fear of saying or doing the wrong thing? Or will I learn to live with it?
I fear allowing other stuff to get in the way. Making change can be lonely; it is easy to be diverted. I often feel that I am acting with agency, but I’m reminded how that agency is found. It is often through the permission, support, hard work, or consensus of others. Which is why fear is a powerful force: it can limit or motivate us, it can empower or silence others. There are no easy answers, so I’m exploring my thoughts, judgements, and feelings the inquiry sessions have stirred up in me.
Allyship is a lifelong journey, not a destination
I’m just beginning my journey of affecting change in the spaces I operate in. I’m struck by the levels of reflexivity needed to interrogate my daily actions, behaviours, and motivations. Without it, how can I hold myself to account for progress?
The inquiry has helped me have the conversations I needed to have to help drive the small, and big, actions I must take. I feel emboldened by our conversations. They gave me permission, implicitly or explicitly, to show up differently, express things, to openly sensemake with others. In them, I found energy, momentum, solidarity, and hope to keep me committed to making change.
It’s as easy as breathing to leave things as they are — but we mustn’t. There’s work to do. And if enough of us speak and enough of us listen, we can perhaps use the current moment to make something brighter and better — for all of us.
Resources
There are many resources out there if you take the time to investigate, so start by helping yourself. The first step is yours to take, and it must not be the last.
- Compiled by Tatum Dorrell, Matt Herndon, and Jourdan Dorrell
- Compiled by Sarah Sophie Flicker, Alyssa Klein in May 2020: Anti-racism resources for white people
- Compiled by Nicola Carpenter in May 2018 and updated by Nina Berman in July 2020
