By Robin Wright-Pierce, MPA, Chief Executive Officer, Transforming Change and Rev. Nelson Pierce Jr., Chief Political Strategist, Transforming Change
Recent weeks in Cincinnati have brought fresh waves of grief, anguish and fear. Violence has been in the headlines, from Covington police attacking protesters on the Roebling bridge, to a fight that has taken on a political life of its own at the Music Festival. In addition, Executive Orders and big bills are combining to threaten decades of progress in racial justice and economics. We have heard the calls tempting us to sip our wine or tea and watch the world burn around us, but the reality is settling in alarming ways, that our communities are going to be the first to burn.
Already we have seen unemployment rising exponentially for Black women. After all, Black professionals are overrepresented in government jobs, civil rights roles, diversity positions, and social impact offices. As a result we are among the most heavily impacted by the mass government layoffs and closing of DEI initiatives. Here in the Greater Cincinnati region, we are battling attacks on our beloved Black leaders, like Mrs. Iris Roley, the proliferation of KKK flyers in our neighborhoods, Nazi’s marching in Lincoln Heights, and more. Needless to say we are being pulled into the fight for justice – whether we want to be or not. How do we hold all of this, show up in the fight for justice, and still find joy?
In the African-American tradition, joy has never been a luxury, and our experience of joy has never been predicated on the absence of struggle or danger. We’ve long had to find ways to access joy in the midst of the battle – at times using it as fuel to keep on keeping on. In the words of Audre Lorde, joy has been an essential tool to dismantle the master’s house.
The Power of Joy in Community
Too often, we think of joy as something private and personal, such as a weekend escape, a moment of rest. However, in Black culture and Black theology, joy has always been communal. Joy lives in the gathered circle, whether it is the church cookout, the choir stand, the family reunion, or the community potluck. These are not just social events, they are sacred spaces where laughter and presence bring along with it healing and perseverance.
It is also true that these spaces did not exist in a vacuum. The choir rehearsal prepared us for church where we could affirm that God was with us in our fight for justice. The family reunion helped us to affirm the communal nature of family in an American culture that lifts up the nuclear family as the ideal. Our coming together is not just about celebration, it is also about strategy and resistance.
For the Black professional, our existence has quickly begun to resemble that of our white counterparts more so than it has in previous generations. We are more nuclear family-focused than previous generations. We are more isolated than previous generations. We are much less likely to attend church than previous generations, and many of us work in predominantly white spaces. The challenge, therefore, is for us to reclaim the communal in our day-to-day experience. We must fight against the culture of isolation and move from episodic and sporadic experiences of community towards an integrated life that holds community at the center.
Not Just Self-Care—Soul Care
Today, there is a lot of talk about self-care. Much of the conversation about self-care is rooted in escapism and it encourages you to spend money in exchange for rest. We are told we can and should buy our way to recovery in a world that is structured to drain and harm us. We need and deserve so much more.
We would argue that what we really need is soul care; the kind of care that comes from being seen, known, and held by a community. When you show up at the community vigil or church service and stay to talk afterward. The kind of care that comes with being able to share your anger at the current injustice and have the person say back to you, “I see you” and “me too!”
And for Black professionals who often feel pressure to hold it all together, this kind of shared joy is especially important. We are not meant to carry the weight of the world alone.The early Black church understood this deeply. Our ancestors praised God in the cotton fields, harmonized hymns in brush arbors, and shouted in storefront sanctuaries not because life was easy but because they refused to let despair get the last word.
A Call to Community
Don’t let the headlines isolate you and don’t let your job titles or your busy schedules convince you that you have to grieve alone or resist in silence. More is possible. It starts with deepening your community. Here are three things you can do to deepen joy and resilience in your life:
Integrate community into your life: It’s hard to go from sporadic social engagement to a fully integrated communal life. That’s a big leap. Instead, start small. Reach out to your two or three closest friends and schedule regular friend time – it doesn’t matter if it’s a phone call, visiting each other at someone’s house, cooking dinner for your kids together, or going out somewhere. Carve out time to be with the people you love.
Find a church or faith/spiritual community: Now more than ever, we cannot afford to be a people that is disconnected from the divine. Find a church – we have one you can visit (Beloved Community Church), a mosque, zen community, an Ifa community, a quaker circle, or other spiritual community. Find a spiritual community that nourishes you, reminds you of the truth of who you are, and helps you to feel seen, heard, and loved.
Stay connected to justice: There is joy in fighting for love and justice. When we avoid the movement we often end up feeling overwhelmed and overcome with hopelessness. In the movement you find energy from fighting together alongside others who are committed to making the world a better place. The movement reminds you that there are good people in the world who refuse to rollover and stay silent. Not sure where to start, check out Communities United For Action!
About Transforming Change: Transforming Change works with non-profit social justice organizations and faith communities to transform leaders, strengthen organizations, deepen social justice strategy, and transform the movement ecosystem.
Tired of articles in black publications telling me to join the fight.
Don’t y’all get it we win a few times and loose way more. Count me out