Recently, I spent a week on a houseboat in the middle of Lake Powell. We parked the boat on a quiet piece of beach surrounded by nothing but the beautiful landscape of the lake. The first night there, I went and sat on the roof of the boat to take in the beauty of my surroundings. There was no light pollution, no noise pollution, and no service to reach the outside world.
All I could hear was the faint sound of the water and slight rustling of the wind. All I could see was the dark of the night sky with more stars than I could count. Until that moment, I did not know that the sky could be that beautiful, or that the peace I felt on that rooftop could exist.
That feeling I had on the rooftop of a boat on Lake Powell is like my experience at JustLead Leadership Academy. I did not know that such an experience could exist and how desperately I needed that experience.
I remember logging onto Zoom to begin Leadership Academy and quickly doing the subconscious inventory that I do in most spaces.
Am I the only person of color? How safe does this space feel? Who are the individuals in positional power of authority? What parts of myself can I bring forward, and which parts will remain hidden?
I stopped myself mid-thought realizing that this virtual space I was in felt different. I do not think I have ever been in all Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) space in my professional career. So much of the legal profession (and this world) is tailored to whiteness. I still felt a level of apprehension as if waiting for someone to tell me this all BIPOC cohort was not actually real.
I learned so many lessons about my leadership style, the core competencies, communication around my leadership story, and developing a counter narrative. I will carry that information with me throughout my personal and professional life.
My biggest takeaway, which in the scheme of Leadership Academy’s impact might go unnoticed, is the community intention: No Fixing, No Saving.
My family is one of fixers – my grandmother was a nurse, my mother is a teacher, and I am an attorney. I wanted to fix the issues of my former clients, and in my current role, I want to fix the issues that contracted organizations are facing. This naturally bleeds over into other parts of my personal life. I can’t help but think that I might be able to fix the problem, step up and save the day.
Our cohort shared a lot during Leadership Academy, and many of those things included professional and personal struggles that fellows were facing. When reminded that in those moments of sharing, there is No Fixing, No Saving and only space to sit and listen, I learned a few things.
I simply can’t fix all things and save all people. I realized that a level of my professional worth has always been tied to how well I can fix the issues. There are some things, especially given the state of our country, that I can’t fix. That was a hard reality for me to accept. It does not mean that I don’t voice my opinions around injustices, volunteer my time to help, join the community to work towards solutions. Realizing that I can’t fix all things and save all people is realizing that I am not solely responsible for these things, and that our collective work is much more powerful.
You miss so much when listening with the intent of responding instead of listening to understand. When you are trying to fix and save, you miss so much of what a person is saying. I realized that I was missing so much of the message because my brain was immediately thinking of suggestions and solutions. Sometimes, the person just needs you to listen and acknowledge that you hear them, and their feelings are valid. Sometimes, there is nothing to fix or no one to save.
It is not always my place to fix or save. I have been fortunate enough to work with many communities that I am not a member of. Though I am being included in discussions, it is important for me to remember my role and the space that I should or should not take up. I work with self-advocates in the Intellectual and Developmental Disability (IDD) community. They face numerous challenges with employment, housing, and access to other services. As someone who is neurotypical, I follow the lead of those self-advocates in the solutions they want. They are extremely capable individuals who don’t need my saving.
I have so much to learn still, but Leadership Academy introduced me to something I did not know existed. Now that I do – I want more.
Oh, and that all BIPOC cohort – it was real, amazing, and a life-changing experience.