We celebrate Juneteenth to honor ourselves, those who came before us, and prepare the next generation to continue carrying forward this legacy. It is the epitome of ‘Black Joy being the ultimate form of resistance’, being ‘our brothers/sisters keeper’, and putting on for ourselves.

When our culture is one that ensures you and I know that whatever version of ourselves we want to present at work, at school, on the Boards we chair, and the committee we support - is more than welcome, and there is space for that version of us - connection within these spaces will thrive. People will feel as though they belong. There will be no need for awkwardly positioned “safe spaces”.

Oneness isn’t sameness. Your employees are there to help drive the work. They are the ones who truly hold the beat. They are the rope turners. Turn to them and make it clear that your commitment to this work isn’t recess or extracurricular.

Whether it is a middle school classroom, a college admissions board, or just another day at the office, equity must be at the forefront of our decision-making and play a key role in developing professional relationships.

Reading is a privilege that my ancestors were punished and brutalized for engaging in. Our stories were lost along with our native tongue. The reservation and fear that initially held my grandmother bound is countered when I read. It is freedom. It is justice. It is community. It is a bridge.

White people, we must break our silence when friends, family members, colleagues, and neighbors share their stories, their feelings, their hopes and dreams. We must break our silence and intervene when we witness harm. But how do we unbury ourselves from fear?

We defy the odds when we laugh. There is so much power in a Black woman’s laughter. It is healing salve for the souls of all who experience it, hear it, and cause it.

White people, we must break our silence when friends, family members, colleagues, and neighbors share their stories, their feelings, their hopes and dreams. We must break our silence and intervene when we witness harm. But how do we unbury ourselves from fear?

I am in the business of learning, teaching, disrupting, and repeating. I am a black educator. I have stayed in schools because I believe the people with the closest proximity to the work are the ones who are best positioned to build a system that is designed to serve black and brown communities.

As I think about my self-work journey, I understand that there is still much for me to unlearn, and I try to check myself often. I sit with a lot of questions especially now as I celebrate Latinx Heritage Month as a non-Black, non-Indigenous, cis-Latina. What “images” of Latinx people do I perpetuate?

We are taught to be “strong” and given high-5s for our perseverance to keep going and “keep our head up” while the world is crashing down around us.

I don’t know who needs to hear this but... it is OK to not feel fine all of the time.

The students I work with go into the world ready to ask ‘Why do we do it that way?’

Our kids need people surrounding them and guiding their schools and community who are not okay with the status quo. Our kids deserve the best, and nothing short of that.