Brave.
I was never a set intentions-put things into the universe-manifest your dreams type of gal. But in 2023, I found myself drawn to the need to set a a one word intention for the year. Perhaps it was the prior few years of a global pandemic that upended any semblance of what was considered to be normal. Or the continued processing, grieving, healing and recuperating from the consequences of the 2016 election. Certainly it had to do with the fact that the country was still reeling from the fall of Roe v Wade in the summer of 2022. Maybe it was the fact that 2023 was a year in which my boss —- the Mayor of the third largest city in the United States — was up for re-election and I had no idea what to expect from the next few months but understood they’d be rocky, challenging, and discomforting at times.
So when I saw that an ice breaker for our upcoming team meeting included a prompt about intentions for the year ahead, I decided to give it some serious thought instead of scoff at the idea. I found myself re-reading Amanda Gorman’s inaugural poem The Hill We Climb from President Biden’s inauguration. I recall feeling hopeful, inspired, and curious about the future —- feelings I had not felt in a long time. I was in awe of her poise and ability to encapsulate exactly what America needed to hear in that precise moment. I remember hearing the end of her poem and thinking how brave she was for stepping up to that podium and speaking her truth particularly in that moment of time.
When day comes, we step out of the shade aflame and unafraid.
The new dawn blooms as we free it.
For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it.
If only we’re brave enough to be it.
Then I recalled a chapter from Glennon Doyle’s book, Untamed, about what it means to be brave. It challenged my definition and dismantled the myth that was engrained in me since a child — being brave is being scared and doing it anyway.
“Brave does not mean feeling afraid and doing it anyway. Brave means living from the inside out. Brave means, in every uncertain moment, turning inward, feeling for the Knowing, and speaking it out loud. Since the Knowing is specific, personal, and ever changing, so is brave. Whether you are brave or not cannot be judged by people on the outside. Sometimes being brave requires letting the crowd think you’re a coward. Sometimes being brave means letting everyone down but yourself.” - Glennon Doyle, Untamed
I found myself reflecting on the state of our world, about the world that I was raising my young children in, and because this reflection was prompted by an ice breaker for our team meeting, I began reflecting on my tenure in the Mayor’s Office as the first Director of Gender-based Violence Strategy and Policy. The challenges that we had to navigate since 2020 were unprecedented and I witnessed how many decisions come before the leadership of the Mayor’s Office on a daily basis, how those decisions were informed, and the impact of those decisions. There were dozens of opportunities to test values, ideologies, and loyalty —- dozens of chances to demonstrate bravery or concede to the pressures of politics, power, and money. And indeed, so many moments of uncertainty.
In moments of uncertainty and particularly during shifts in the political environment and culture of our country, it is common to turn to what we know, what we are comforted by, and what has been consistent. It’s a coping mechanism. It can also be dangerous in that it allows us to seep into the the garden of status quo and plant more seeds there. That is no way to move forward because it will not transform systems or shift culture towards equity, justice, and peace. Instead, it will further perpetuate harm, oppression, and maintain the power among the few at the expense of the many.
Challenging or questioning the status quo, however, can certainly create tensions with other people. As Glennon so accurately points out, being brave sometimes means letting people down, because you’re upholding your values that likely are misaligned with those who perceive you to be a coward for questioning the status quo.
At this point, you must be thinking that this is quite the reflection to prepare for a team ice breaker. But the fact that I was reflecting so deeply demonstrated to me that for the first time, I was about to set a one-word intention for the year and it was clear to me that word needed to be brave. I committed to continued reflection, listening, and learning that was consistently grounded in questioning what is and helping to bring to life what should be. It is necessary, now perhaps more than ever, as a White woman to lean in to moments of uncertainty and look inward.
This space is a means to share those reflections, questions, and ways in which I am grappling with my position in the current state of our world. As you’ll read below, my positionality is one of privilege and my beliefs and ideologies have not always been how they are now —- indeed our Knowing is always changing, Glennon. This is not going to be a polished space. It is going to be messy, vulnerable, and I’m not always going to get it right. Actually, that’s kind of the point. I hope this creates further discussions and dialogues (in safe, respectful ways) and I am so eager to continue to learn and grow.
Onward.
My positionality.
I am a white, cis-gender, heterosexual woman with New England roots living in Chicago where I have been building a life and family for the past thirteen years. I am a proud mother to five year old twins (biological boys) — or as some like to call it, two children at the same time.
I moved to Chicago in 2010 to pursue my master’s in social work after graduating from the University of New Hampshire with my BA in Psychology and Justice Studies. I attended the School of Social Service Administration (now the Crown School of Social Work, Policy and Practice but will always be “SSA” to me) with the intent of working in the non-profit sector to address sexual violence at a macro level. After graduate school, I helped to lead a social service program for immigrant survivors of human trafficking (both labor and sex trafficking) in Chicago. Approximately eight years later, I made the unexpected jump to work for the Mayor’s Office in Chicago in 2019 under Mayor Lori Lightfoot. I joined just two other fellows in the country placed in local government to create a coordinated response to human trafficking, specifically labor trafficking. Five months later, COVID-19 happened and the world got turned upside down. Long story short, the incidents of domestic violence were notable locally and nationally and I was asked to create a plan to address the issue.
This led to the development of the City’s first-ever Citywide Strategic Plan to Address Gender-based Violence and Human Trafficking in 2021 which was drafted in partnership with community-based organizations, survivors, and City officials. The plan was not only unprecedented in the City of Chicago but it was the most comprehensive plan published in the country.
I learned a lot from my experience in the Mayor’s office and I grew exponentially both professionally and personally as a direct result of helping to govern through a global pandemic and civil unrest. As a result, I spend a lot of my time thinking about and unpacking my Whiteness in this movement to address gender-based violence and will share my thoughts, opinions, expertise, and things I am grappling with here with you all. I remain committed to achieving gender and racial equity across all systems, organizations, and communities.
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