Category: Blog

Exploring the very real ways I am both challenged and nurtured by conscious relationships, particularly those that span identity and power.

The anti-racist stretch goal is s a core element of the Authentic Solidarity Program that pushes us to take action. It’s about building new practices, stepping outside of routine, creating neural pathways, building new muscles, and getting out of your head. It’s about taking your equity and inclusion values and making them real. 

To be successful in your anti-racist stretch goal, it is important to choose a goal that is uniquely tailored to your experience, passions, skills, and platform. I will describe what the anti-racist stretch goal is and provide you with examples to support your implementation of a goal that makes ​​sense for you.

There are three core ideas that inform the anti-racist stretch goal that we must take into account before getting started.

#1:  What does it mean to be anti-racist?

#2:  How does racism show up in the world, and where can you intervene? 

#3:  What is a stretch goal?

Let’s take these, one by one.

#1:  What does it mean to be anti-racist?

The idea of being anti-racist has been around for a while, but became popularized in 2019 when Dr. Imbrim X. Kendi wrote: “How to be an Anti-racist.” In this work, Kendi quotes famous civil rights activist, Angela Davis, explaining:

“in a racist society, it’s not enough to be non-racist, one must be anti-racist.”

Below, I will describe my take on what Davis and Kendi mean by being more than just non-racist. To hear more on Dr. Kendi’s anti-racist definition, see here. 

Being non-racist means refraining from being racist, right? Most of us today, when we think of racism, we think of things like telling racist jokes, only hiring White people, making ill assumptions about people of color, or more serious incidents like BIPOC targeted police brutality. We think of racism as serious, overt actions that “other people” do. 

So, if I don’t do any of these things, that means I am not racist and have done my part, right?. Unfortunately, the systems of racism and inequality are so deeply rooted that simply refraining from overtly racist acts is not enough. Being anti-racist goes that step further. 

Many people are starting to see that simply being non-racist isn’t enough to create meaningful change. My favorite synonym for being anti-racist is to be “pro-active.”  Rather than waiting for something racist to happen, what can you do to get ahead of it?  Or rather than refraining from feeling judgmental towards people of color, can you make an effort to understand why you have that initial perception and then shift towards acceptance?  (Only if you really mean it though).  Rather than making sure you don’t discriminate against people of color in hiring, what if you made an extra effort to recruit qualified candidates of color?  These are all definitions of anti-racist actions vs. non-racist actions.  Being proactive, making an extra effort, and intentionally amplifying the achievements of people of color, are all part of being anti-racist.  

#2:  How does racism show up in the world? (So you can pick a focus)

Ever heard of a SMART goal? (If not, you can learn more here.)  I like to focus on what the “S” stands for, which is SPECIFIC.  The idea being, that the more specific your goal is, the more likely you are to focus your energy and actually achieve an outcome.  So, how do you get “specific” when it comes to racism?  Racism is a complex, multi-faceted, long-standing dynamic.  

To be successfully anti-racist, I don’t think you need to study the intricacies of how racism functions in society, but I do think it is key to have a general understanding of the four primary ways racism shows up in society. 

The  four primary ways racism shows up in society are:

• Individual:  Within oneself
• Interpersonal:  Between two or more people in a relationship
• Cultural:  Within messages, symbols, films, books, and shared assumptions
• Structural:  In the legal structures of organizations and institutions

And of course, these all overlap and influence each other, but let’s look at them briefly one by one.  

Individual (Within oneself):  Racism lives within each one of us that has grown up in a racist society.  It lives in our thoughts, beliefs, stories, assumptions, and unconscious associations we make about people of different races.  Research shows that every single one of us is biased as a human, along all different vectors, race certainly being one of them.  Changing our thoughts and beliefs is hard, but possible for humans.  We can become more self-aware if we are willing to try.

Interpersonal (Between two or more people in a relationship):  Racism also shows up in our communication with each other.  When you show up to your child’s first day of school – who do you choose to talk to or introduce yourself to?  During a team meeting at the office or group discussion, who gets the most air time?  These tendencies to be around and offer preferential treatment to people who look like or remind us of ourselves is called inter-personal racism.  

Within culture: Racism shows up within culture through the constant flow of information and entertainment that we all digest. Movies, streaming series, advertising, symbols, history books, music, etc.  All things which inform our collective thoughts, beliefs, and actions. And when these different forms of media reinforce racist stereotypes or assumptions, we are being influenced by racism within our culture, which can be extremely powerful in upholding a racist society.. Therefore, we can define cultural racism as the patterns of interpersonal relationships getting played out at large across society. 

Within legal structures:  While all areas of racism are important and worth attention, this fourth area is often considered the most important. However, strangely enough, it is often the most overlooked.  Note:  Many, many organizations have their take on these four levels, some use five or more.  The World Trust Educational Center uses this graphic. The National Museum of African American History and Culture at the Smithsonian describes it this way.

While many of our laws have since been refined, for hundreds of years there were legal systems in place that discriminated against people of color, particularly Black people. The effects of those discriminatory laws are with us still today.  Until the 1970s, Black people were legally turned away from acquiring bank loans to buy a house as well as to attend universities they were equally or more qualified for. The way wealth works in this country is that it gets passed down and accumulates, primarily through homeownership, generation to generation. – it’s the single largest driver of wealth in the country. Therefore, through legally sanctioned discrimination, people of color have been historically locked out of access to build wealth.  Pulitzer Prize winner Nikole Hannah-Jones describes the history of legal discrimination against Black people and its relationship to building wealth in the US here.  

No single one of these areas alone will eradicate racism, yet all of them are crucial.  As my participants draft their stretch goals, I recommend focusing on one area deeply.   Are you going to work on deepening your own self-awareness of your racist thoughts and attitudes?  Are you going to work towards speaking up more about racism that you witness or are a part of in relationships?  Are you going to contribute to cultural change through writing or producing art?  Are you going to organize to change laws and policies, either in government or in your company/organization? Know that being an anti-racist is a lifelong journey, you can devote a year or more to one area and then move on to another. 

#3: What is a Stretch Goal?  

The “stretch goal” is a common idea in leadership development and behavior change. The basic idea is the following: Choose a goal that is not so outside your comfort zone or what you are used to that you panic or freeze, (The Red Zone) but also not something so close or familiar that you aren’t challenged at all, (The Comfort Zone).  The idea is to be just uncomfortable enough that you are learning and growing, (The Green Zone).

Let’s look at this idea of a “stretch” with a racial equity lens. For many people, taking any action at all around race is intimidating.  Immediately, many people feel like they are in the panic zone.  

So, if that’s the case, be real with yourself;

What can you do that isn’t so scary but is a bit more than you are doing now?  

Here’s another thing.  I can hear my colleagues of color taking deep breaths as they read this, trying to manage their frustration with White people who are “so scared” of taking any action.  Let’s look at this, fellow White people. What are we actually scared of when confronted with the prospect of examining our internal racism, speaking up around race, putting some anti-racist art or messaging out there, or organizing with others for more anti-racist policies?  Damaging our reputation? Losing credibility?  Rupturing important relationships?  Probably some combination of these fears is coming up for you.  And these are legitimate fears! The stakes are pretty high professionally and personally for getting it right when having conversations about race. We don’t live in a culture that allows for a lot of mistakes.  It does seem sometimes like one slip of the tongue, and you could be “canceled.”  This is the reality we live in, and it does need to be taken into account when considering your stretch goal.  

While these fears are real, let’s look at what our colleagues of color face in the workplace, what they might be scared of, and what’s at stake for them.  Every day the challenge of re-training people to think of them as competent, qualified, “easy to work with”, and not a threat is present, if not in the foreground, in the background of everyone’s consciousness, including their own. Every day the prospect of being stopped by the police, or someone they love being stopped by police and being mistreated either verbally or physically is in the background.  Every day, navigating the question of the impact their race has on interpersonal and professional dynamics; did I get that promotion because of my race?  Did I get passed over for that promotion because of my race? Can I give my supervisor feedback, or will I be perceived as a problematic employee because of my race?  Every “risky” moment that we all face in navigating power dynamics, is that much riskier if you are Black or a person of color.  

So, when thinking about risk-taking (which is basically what a stretch is), I suggest to my White clients and partners, what if you thought about what could be gained from this risk, rather than what could be lost?  What if by talking more openly, honestly, and bravely about race in the office; you gained more trust among a broader, more diverse group of staff?  What if your risk-taking added to your credibility?Because even when you made a mistake, you owned it, apologized, and then were able to move on. What if Black employees, peers, and colleagues felt more seen and appreciated – felt the effort to really see and appreciate them. What if that could lighten their daily stress load and allow for more creativity and calm throughout the office?  If all of that were possible, wouldn’t it be worth it? That’s the thing about learning and growth, you can’t really get the rewards without the risk. And usually the greater the risk, the greater the reward. 

If equity and inclusion are something you truly care about and genuinely want to experience, you aren’t going to have that experience without taking the risk.  

Let’s look at some examples of anti-racist stretch goals:

• Call-in my colleagues to anti-racism by naming and noticing unconscious racism when I see it. (Inter-personal)
• Add IDE (i.e., equity and belonging) as a standing topic to the monthly meeting with the expectation that leadership will cascade topics and conversations to their teams. (Inter-personal and Cultural)
• Increase racial diversity by 20% on the Executive Team via proactive recruitment. (Inter-personal and Legal/Policy-oriented)
• Build a social & racial justice lens to our innovation launches, bringing tangible new products to market as a clear and bold commitment and point of differentiation. (Cultural)
• Ensure that an inclusive process, across race and other historically marginalized identities, exists for assigning task force project opportunities for career development, by end of Q1. (Inter-personal and Legal/Policy-oriented).

Notice that the goals span interpersonal, cultural, and legal realms. They are also specific and measurable, with many including specific time frames. The degree of risk must be determined by each person, leader, and team.  

What is your anti-racist stretch goal? How will you challenge yourself to go beyond being non-racist and be more pro-actively anti-racist, or pro-actively and intentionally inclusive across race? What feels like a do-able stretch for you? How can you step outside your comfort zone without panicking and stick with it?  What is a small but significant change you can make consistently over time? And finally, who can support you? Choose a friend or colleague that you can share your goal with and talk about how it’s going in order to help you stay accountable. I’d love to hear more about your stretch goals here. The more transparently and openly we all talk about how to make our values of inclusion real, actionable, and measurable, the closer we get to moving towards justice.

For most of us, 2020 has been marked by loss.

Hundreds of thousands of fellow Americans have lost their lives — or those of family members — to the coronavirus and COVID 19. As has been well documented, the pandemic has disproportionally affected communities of color.

Ongoing racial injustice – historical and present-day — continues to result in the loss of additional Black and brown lives. Police brutality and lifetime prison sentences continue to afflict minority communities while Native Americans continue to mourn the loss of their ancestral lands, culture, language, and more. All of us, if we stop and look, have to face the loss of human and civil rights — either our own or those of our neighbors.

Over the last six months, we’ve also lost our routines. Parents have lost child care and youth have lost their schools, friends, and their primary places to socialize. So many have lost their jobs, their homes, or their sense of security – and again, these losses are carried disproportionately by people of color.

In a stunning and stark reality that has been brewing for nearly four years, we are on the brink of losing our democracy and the institutions upon which it is so fragilely built.

Are we also losing our collective grip on reality?

There is so much loss and so much grief.  But how should I grieve?

What function does grief have in society? Is it best done alone or among others? Do I risk going into a dark place I can’t get out of? What if I don’t know what to say or how to respond to someone else’s grief?  

These are all questions that were alive for me when a colleague, Erica Peng, invited me to a ‘grief ritual’ online, in community, last week. Despite how much I was walking into an unknown experience, it felt right. I NEEDED it.  And the experience was profound.

Here are three big learnings that happened to me that will help me continue to grieve while holding space for others who need to grieve as well:

3 Steps to Grieving

#1 The Setup Matters

Before coming to the grief ritual, I had made a deal with myself. If I got overwhelmed, I was going to give myself permission to leave. When I arrived, the facilitators had set up a wonderful list of intentions to help keep the container safe and inviting. The intention that made the most difference for me was an offering to meet with one of the co-facilitators, a trained somatic healer, in a private one on one space, if anyone was feeling overwhelmed. In this way, you did not have to “leave” the community, but you could get a tailored kind of support, respecting you may indeed feel overwhelmed, to help you stay connected rather than opting out altogether.

While I didn’t find I needed to take advantage of the offer, knowing it was there calmed my nervous system tremendously. Other intentions that were meaningful included: acknowledging the courage that it took to come, confidentiality, and a reminder that while we may be remembering moments of pain and harm, the harm isn’t here now with us today in this space.

#2 Share the Labor:  Your Grief Allows Me to Touch Mine

This was a new idea for me. We were invited to give gratitude to others in our group for expressing their grief because when they do, they are lightening the load for all of us. To witness someone else feel into their pain and begin to release it, it was as if all of our loads began to lighten. As people began to cry and release, emotions I had stuffed deep down began to surface, and I started letting them go. I thanked those that cried first and I meant it from the bottom of my heart.

#3 Move In and Out of Darkness and Light

We spent three hours together in the grief ritual. We grounded by calling in how we are resourcing ourselves lately, which reminded us of our natural resilience (this was by design to do first our facilitators later shared). Throughout our time together, we read poems, we breathed, tapped our bodies, and sang. We learned a call and response chant and our facilitators played drums. We brought symbols that were meaningful to our grief and the wisdom of our ancestors known and unknown.

For me, there were moments of deep sadness, but also moments of giving and supporting others by simply holding space and witnessing, which also served as a break from my pain. There were moments when I simply paused and rested, there were moments when I felt light and joyful, and moments when I dipped back into my sadness.

“Crip Camp,” the 2020 Sundance Film Festival Winning documentary, recounts how a summer camp designed for people with disabilities led to a revolution in the 1970s.

I was moved by the passion and persistence of the real-life activists featured in the film and saw so much relevance to today’s work of fighting to end structural racism and also re-imagining education.  

From Serial and The New York Times: “Nice White Parents” looks at the 60-year relationship between white parents and the public school down the block.

This podcast is essential listening for anyone who wants to understand white privilege and segregation in today’s education system. 

We are in a moment, as Angela Davis would say, of “radical reckoning” with respect to race. White people are waking up to the vast difference in our experience compared to our friends, neighbors and co-workers of color. Our histories are different, and our present experiences are different, even when we live in the same neighborhood, go to the same school, or work in the same building. White people are seeing how truly segregated our lives still are. Real integration — in our schools, our neighborhoods, our churches, and our work lives —  has failed. Collectively, we are finally starting to talk about this failure.  But it is not easy. Black, Indigenous, and People of Color often have vastly different experiences than White people even in the same conversation.

Here are few examples of these differences that I see showing up in organizations:

• An email exchange in a large women’s empowerment network post-George Floyd blows up because years of unchecked micro-aggressions finally get called out. The White women feel shamed, embarrassed, and confused. The Black Women, and Women of Color, feel some relief, but the resistance of the White women triggers both anger and exhaustion.
• A multi-racial social justice network adds to their norms that space be made for BIPOC (Black, Indigenous and People of Color) to speak first in the debrief of a presentation.  Questions and comments from White people are taken only if time allows. BIPOC feel seen and appreciated in new ways, while many of the White people feel left out and express themselves at length in online chats.
• A company begins recognizing that systemic racism may be playing a part in the fact that their leadership is mostly White. Race starts to be a topic that comes up frequently.  The mostly White staff complain, “I can’t say anything anymore.” The staff of color on the other hand, say “acknowledging the problem is just the first step; we’ve barely begun.”   

When any of the scenarios above arise,  someone in charge is likely to say, “We need to deal with this!  Let’s facilitate a conversation to try and bring people together.” 

Navigating Tough Conversations

As a seasoned facilitator myself, I know that the first step in navigating tough conversations is  to develop a good set of ground rules that guide the way participants will engage in that conversation before launching into it.   

Unfortunately, when addressing potentially uncomfortable race issues, a common trend I see come up again and again during the ground rules conversation — the conversation before the conversation — is this: White people will request that the conversation feel “safe” and that everyone “assume best intentions.”
The result of these requests is that BIPOC feel silenced from the get go. Should they make any of the participating White people feel unsafe by sharing their actual experience, they will be pegged as ‘the angry BIPOC employee.’ In these scenarios, the stakes are especially high for those who identify as Black.  

When talking about the need for creating a ‘safe space’ such as in the scenario above, it is important to consider two key questions:

• What does “safety” mean when talking about race?  
• Does  “safety” mean the same thing for White people as it does for Black, Indigenous and People of Color?

When White people ask for “safety” as a prerequisite for even beginning a conversation about race, the impact on Black, Indigenous and People of Color is often: “You have to be f-ing kidding me?!”  When Black people are shot and killed by the police regularly, when their competence in the workplace is constantly questioned, when the only neighborhood where they can get a loan approved is a high crime area, the fact that White people would ask for “safety” before having a conversation is the ultimate expression of privilege – the luxury of not needing to know or care about the context of danger in which Black people live on a daily basis. 

It also plays directly into the myth that Black people are dangerous. Many of my Black colleagues have shared with me that this lack of awareness from White people is deeply painful for them.  

And it is.  

However, underneath the request for ‘safety’ and ‘assuming best intentions’ is an expression of a different kind of risk. Entering into a conversation about race in which many White people believe (rightly so) that they could say something triggering or harmful to People of Color — and that this will be noticed and probably commented on publicly — feels risky.  And it is risky. But we must then ask: What’s at risk? Is it a human life? No. Is it a sense of identity and belonging? Probably. If my White identity is built around me valuing diversity, appreciating human beings regardless of race, and of being thoughtful, sensitive and inclusive, and this gets called into question, it can indeed feel deeply painful. And if belonging and feeling accepted in this multi-racial group matters, having that sense of belonging threatened feels risky too.   

Let’s acknowledge that these two risks — losing and/or shortening one’s life due to structural racism vs. a loss of identity and belonging — cannot be compared.  They are in two totally different spheres.  So, White folks, let’s not use or request the safety parachute for these conversations — It’s a cop out, and it is just too painful.  

Alternatives to Safety: Start Somewhere and Grow

So, what ground rules can create containers for productive conversations about race? What’s the alternative to safety? This poem by Micky ScottBey Jones offers an alternative. The first few lines of the poem recognize that:

“There is no such thing as a ‘safe space”’ — We exist in the real world. We all carry scars and we have all caused wounds.”

This deeply human recognition that we have all hurt others, and we all have hurts, different as they may be, allows us to connect to our own and each other’s humanity, and invites us to drop the notion of “safety” altogether, because the notion itself is not even realistic.  

Later in the poem, one of my other favorite lines is:

“We have the right to start somewhere, and continue to grow.”

Rather than asking for assurance that everything we (especially us White folks) say will be seen in a positive light, this line asks us to be compassionate with ourselves and non-judgmental with each other, because we all have to start somewhere, and to simultaneously hold that we all have the capacity to grow. As a White person, I can totally live with this. I can let go of my need for safety (i.e. to be fully understood in my good intentions) if I can also recognize that I am on a journey of growing and evolving. 

“We have the responsibility to examine what we think we know.” 

This is a powerful call to action for us White folks especially, not to be passive or extractive in conversations about race.  

Creating a truly integrated multi-racial space in which power is shared, requires a mutual investment in examining our beliefs and being open to those beliefs changing. This is a responsibility — it’s a requirement, I would say — especially for White people, in creating a truly integrated space.  

Really good ground rules should be oriented towards not only what does one need from the group to show up fully, but what will one give to the group so that others may show up fully. I sense in my facilitation that us White folks have been socialized to think of ground rules as an opportunity to ask for what we need from the group. When we consider the generations in which our needs as White people have come first, stepping into a multi-racial space in which we are committed to making a truly integrated space, should be seen as an opportunity to  give  to the space.

Letting go of safety and acknowledging that we are all starting somewhere, and growing, allows us to be more human – with ourselves and with each other. It doesn’t give us an “escape route” if things get hard, but it does open the door for self-compassion. Actively participating in questioning our beliefs, rather than advocating, explaining, or making really great points, also invites connection and builds trust.  This communicates that we understand that the world has tried to shape us in ways that divide, and that no one is immune to this. Trust comes not from absolving oneself from the impact of white supremacy, but from noticing it and actively questioning it. 

I hope we can all embrace the words of wisdom from Micky ScottBey Jones and create more brave (rather than safe), multi-racial, truly integrated spaces.  

People ask me all the time; What makes Coaching for Transformation different from other coaching schools? There are some obvious answers such as; we focus on the role institutional oppression plays in personal transformation, we have a diverse and seasoned faculty in both Coaching Competencies and Social Change work, and we offer coaching programs around the globe from New York to the Bay; from India to LA and in community organizations, corporations, and even prisons. But you probably already know all that. I’d like to share some of what personally moved me about my experience as an emerging coach in training in 2011, prior to becoming faculty.

One of the first areas of inquiry I embarked on as a student of coaching, was needs and values. (All the “skills” of coaching are taught through immediate application to one’s own life). While reflecting on my needs and values, I realized how much I missed my kids during my long hours working and commuting. Even the notion that I had “needs” at the time felt revolutionary. But I did have unmet needs. My kids were young, my marriage strained, and my income limited. I had unmet needs for stability, rest, and presence. I learned that it was OK not to know how to meet these needs, but that I could recognize my needs and honor them, even if they were not fully met. This patient approach was essential to eventually accessing the strength and creativity to (eventually) get more of my needs met.

By participating in a supportive community of other change agents, I also was able to take a courageous look at my relationship to my activism. I realized my social change work had stymied. While I was consulting non-profits and training in multi-culturalism and diversity, I was disconnected. I had become so focused on “getting it right” that I had lost track of the love and the joy of doing the work. There wasn’t a place in my mental model of a strong white ally for vulnerability. I learned that my feelings are the path to my authentic voice. While analysis and courage are important in social justice work, I learned that by being vulnerable, I can access my heart. My heart; including all her questions, doubts, fears, and longings, allows me to connect with and build bridges across difference. As a faculty member at Leadership that Works, I have continued to uncover my unconscious bias – be in conversation with it – as well as use a coaching mindset to address the effects of systemic racism within myself, on organizations I am a part of, and that affect all the relationships that are important to me.

Another poignant memory for me is having a peer coach challenge me around a tough consulting negotiation I was going through. When she said to me; “what if you earned this client’s respect instead of getting her to like you?” something landed inside of me. Because I had also been practicing listening to my body in the program, I was able to track more readily my internal response. My body told me – YES, this is EXACTLY what you need to hear right now – welcome this challenge and do something about it. PLEASE. (And I did, and it felt GREAT!) In coaching, we call this; “Calling out the Power.” My peer coach was able to hold up a mirror and say; “hey, trust your intuition and your experience – you know what you need to make this project work – Ask for it!” That was a game changer for me.

Another game changer occurred during the individual mentoring. In CFT, each student is matched with an individual mentor coach who listens to a 30-minute recording of one of your coaching sessions and gives you feedback. I sent off a recording of a coaching session I was pretty proud of, and waited for “the good student” story of my childhood to play out. This “story” is the pattern of working hard and getting my teachers to like me and praise me in school. I got so good at it, I had come to expect it. And then my mentor didn’t give me praise! He didn’t criticize me, but he simply stated the facts of where I had exhibited coaching competencies and where I had not. He reflected back my strengths and pointed me towards where the coaching could have more of an impact on my client. It was SO WEIRD! And, it changed the way I think about feedback and learning forever. I no longer work for praise or depend on it to feel good about myself. I can step into things as a beginner (not a pretend beginner but an actual beginner) and have faith that I can practice and get better at something. While part of me always believed that with effort and hard work, one can improve, a less confident and more insecure part of me believed “you either have it, or you don’t.” I realized, again through coaching, that this belief is false and not serving me. We all have “it” within us to support our own and others’ transformation. Coaching is a practice, an orientation, a self-discipline, and a set of skills, that with support – anyone can master.

If you are longing for a change in the pace of your life, seeking community to explore your unique contribution to positive social change, wanting to stop giving away your power, and willing to let go of whatever old stories are holding you back; then join us in June for Coaching for Transformation in Oakland, CA; there is a place for you.