T.I. | Jada | And Red Table Talk
DECEMBER 10, 2019
It has always bothered me when charismatic people make jokes about the harm they cause. It has cost me many friendships. It has cost me a seat at the cool kids table time and time again — but I have never been willing to laugh at the jokes of those who paper over their harm with humor. I cringed throughout the entire interview as Jada laughed heartily at T.I.’s quips at his wife. Let me back up: for those who don’t know, Red Table Talk is an intergenerational conversation series hosted by Jada Pinkett Smith, her mother Adriennie Banfield Norris and her daughter, Willow Smith. The women (minus Willow) took some time to interview T.I. and his wife Tiny last week in a two-part interview series. Part 1 gave T.I. the opportunity to explain why he accompanies his teenage daughter annually to the gynecologist to hear a report on whether his daughter’s hymen is still in tact…(I will not discuss this hugely problematic issue in this piece). Part 2 of the interview gave T.I. and Tiny the opportunity to share how they kept their marriage together after being on the brink of divorce.
Jada Pinkett-Smith coddled T.I. the entire interview. Charisma is disarming. Charisma is magnetic. Charisma changes the climate of a room. T.I. had his charisma turned all the way on and Jada ate it up. This is how our women stay with abusive, controlling, charismatic men. Throughout the entire interview, Tiny was visibly uncomfortable, continually silenced by her husband, refuted by him on nearly every example she offered, and all Jada offered was “neither of you are wrong.” Sis, what? How? In what world?
We’ve got to get to a point where we stop laughing at the jokes of controlling men. Being their amen corner when they spew their toxic perspective reinforces in their minds that they are always right. Giving them space to feel like they are right even while giving our sisters the side eye indicating that we know they’re wrong isn’t enough anymore. We don’t need any more sisters hi-fiving toxic men in public, then privately texting their wives saying how foul the man is. It’s time for women to name the harm we see in public. Jada has the capacity to call people our. I’ve seen her do it on the show. But she chose to hide behind similarities that she claims existed between their marriage & her own. She chose to hide behind “I’ve been there and it was on me to change” without turning the corner to name the part her husband played in how they landed where they landed.
And this is how we send women back into harmful environments. We do it by our comparisons. We do it by our co-signs. We do it by our laughter. We do it by our “there are fine people on both sides rhetoric.” And I am tired of it.
Black women: we have got to stop caping for toxic black men. We are so afraid of being labeled angry black women, or nagging black women, or male-bashing black women, or feminist black women…we are so defined by the male gaze that even at a table with 3 Black women, the man at the table comes out virtually unscathed. Jada chooses to end the interview by saying: I see so much love here…I just love y’all. And folks — there it is. How can women like Tiny ever be heard when women like Jada bend over backwards to affirm something that everyone can tell, is toxic.
Now I am a huge supporter of marriage. I’ve been with my husband for 14 years (5 dating, 9 married). I’m a clergy person and have facilitated pre -marital counseling & officiated the weddings of many — yet, we can’t root for marriage so badly that we ignore the harmful patterns that have been entrenched in people’s relationships. Yes marriage is hard. Yes marriage takes sacrifice — but all marital issues aren’t created equal. Fighting to use your voice or be heard, begging for fidelity, two decades of being controlled and manipulated are not signs of a healthy & long-lasting marriage. They are signs of a marriage in crisis. I disagree with Jada. I do not love them together. I don’t see love I see control. I don’t see love I see habits. I don’t see love I see nostalgia. Yet, I do believe that people can change. I hope they really do continue their counseling and their journey to wholeness. But what I hope most of all, is that all women will choose to use our voices to name what we see even in the face of charisma. Not all abuse is physical. Not all abusers “look scary.” Some are charming. Some are funny. Some dress well. But you know an abuser when you close your eyes and hear them talk. You recognize an abuser in the tension you feel when they take up space in a room. All abuse is toxic. It must be stopped. May we all — women & men find the courage to call abuse out whenever and however we see it. No more laughing at harmful jokes. No more supporting of narcissistic charismatic abusers. We can disarm them. Let’s try.
Digital Pastoral Care in the Era of COVID-19
MARCH 22, 2020
As I pen this article, I’m writing in the midst of an unprecedented ten days. I, like many pastors, have embraced a new reality: pastoring in the era of social distancing. We are all figuring out new ways of being. Not only pastors, but parents are figuring out how to support their children without school, educators are learning new technology and looking for ways to teach their students through screens. Restauranteurs, waitresses & waiters, bartenders, gyms, physical trainers, small business owners, musicians, actors, actresses and more are all dealing with the implications of being deemed “non-essential” in today’s workforce. On the other side, Nurses, medical doctors, social workers, janitors, chefs and other fields are on the front lines exposing themselves to illness in order to serve those they’ve pledged to serve. The world has changed. We are all looking for ways to adapt. We are all looking for ways to cope while still holding onto our hope.
Hope is what the church specializes in. In times past when calamity took place, the church was the place people could always turn to. When folks were laid off of their jobs or their loved ones got sick, many people would turn to the church. Many people would attend a worship service or ask their minister to visit them in the hospital. The church was always an edifice that we all assumed would be there. Folks assumed they didn’t have to go every week but when they wanted to, the church would be there. They rightfully assumed that when they went their minister would be preaching, their choir would be singing, the warm hugs of the people who’ve known them their whole lives would be waiting for them and they could get what they needed when they needed it. That is what I and many of my pastoral colleagues lament the most. We desire to physically hug our folks and to remind them that everything is going to be alright. But we are now required to do that from afar…
Our congregational rhythms have significantly changed. While the sermons are going forth and the songs are being sung, the people can no longer enter the sanctuary for worship. In cities like mine, New York’s governor has issued a “stay in place” order where people must stay indoors. While I was preaching last Sunday (to an empty congregation because we suspended physical service), a push alert hit my phone just as I was moving through my sermon manuscript alerting me that The New York City school district had closed. The next day I got word that one of my leaders had given birth to her first child yet the hospital restricted visitors. One day after that I learned of the untimely passing of the loved one of one of our members. I immediately thought about how that family would be supported through their bereavement and funeral service planning. On Wednesday I woke up to a message from a couple that we were supposed to marry this summer who had opted to go to the courthouse instead. I quickly rushed downtown to be there with them. Hours later another couple my husband and I were supposed to marry in April sent a text saying that they were pushing their Florida wedding to November. Later in the week I learned that a member of mine with mental health needs was unable to see their therapist because their therapist had fallen ill.
Daily my phone rang with panicked and despondent people wondering what this all means. People called me frightened because they knew someone who had tested positive and they didn’t know if they should self-quarantine or not. My single members were beginning to feel the weight of social distancing as isolation. My gig economy members were feeling the uncertainty of a looming economic recession. My families who lived with their parents and grandparents became frightened that their children would infect their parents. The baby boomers in my life knew the precautions they needed to take but still felt it pertinent to run their usual errands because they craved community and independence. In the span of 10 days, everything had changed.
As I stilled myself to respond to the needs of my congregants, I had an epiphany. My epiphany was that much of the pastoral care I can offer these days will be mediated through my phone. Whether it be via text message or phone call; Zoom call or FaceTime; Social Media or email — my phone had become my tool to offer pastoral care whether I liked it or not.
Now I should pause to give context to my church. While I’ve been a New York City pastor for seven years, my current church is brand new. I served on the pastoral staff of another church in NYC for five years but the current church that I lead is one that I founded with my spouse in October 2018. We have only been in weekly services since November 2019. You read that right. We have only been a weekly worshipping congregation for four months. Yet, the blessing for us is that we have always been a church that relied heavily on digital media tools. My background is in brand strategy and communications so from the beginning we have utilized tools such as social media, streaming of our worship services, streaming of our bible studies, weekly e-blasts, and more. Our gap, however, has been with obtaining phone numbers.
In my attempt to do wellness checks for our members and friends I realized that while we have active followers on our socials, we don’t have phone numbers for most of our folks. In an era of COVID-19, streaming service is great, but we need to know critical things such as when our folks get sick, who is running out of food, who is sacred, who has mental health needs, who got laid off, who needs childcare…these are all things that we would know if we were meeting physically but since we are not, we’ve had to imagine what digital pastoral care looks like. You can’t find that out in the stream of a worship service.
All week, these are the questions I’ve been asking:
How do people feel seen?
How do people feel heard?
How much is too much communication?
If you can’t go visit someone, how can you let them know you’re actively thinking of them and praying for them?
How do you honor the lives of those we will lose when you cannot give them a traditional funeral service?
How do you honor the milestones in people’s lives that bring the necessary joy that we all need to make it: birthdays, anniversaries, new births, graduations, and more.
How do you honor people’s very real concerns about this pandemic while still offering them hope?
As I have sat with these questions over the past 10 days, I would like to offer some “ah-ha” moments that I’ve had as a pastor.
People don’t expect pastors to be superhuman but they expect us to be human. Talk to your people.
If all you have is someone’s IG handle or FB page, send them a direct message. Just knowing you’re thinking of them goes a long way. It is better than no communication at all. They don’t have to be members. If they actively follow you on your socials engage them because they feel connected to you and your church. They deserve your care.
Gather as many phone numbers as you can and create a GroupMe or WhatsApp group to give people a real time way to communicate with you.
At present: deliveries are still an option. While you can, send flowers to that new mom, send groceries to that elderly person who is running low on supplies, mail an encouraging letter to a member who may be battling loneliness, send a care package to the college students in your congregations who had to go back home.
You don’t have to be the expert! Amplify the voices of experts in your congregation. At my church we are blessed to have a medical doctor and two individuals who work for city and state government on our team. As a pastor, I amplify their voices. I cite them when I speak or I ask them to speak directly. You don’t have to become an overnight expert to serve your congregation well. Resist the urge to have all the answers.
Find the members with expertise that you already have and give them the platform to share best practices. A great way to do this is to have them record a video from their home to your congregation and then share it across your communication portals. You can also go live on Zoom or another video platform and allow them to give real time messages so that people can ask follow up questions.
Guard against making false promises in your sermons. This is a time to preach what we know and to leave room for the answers we don’t have. Try not to be Superwoman or Superman in this moment. The best we can do as clergy is to introduce our congregants to the kind of hope we still have. Remind your congregation of what keeps you going from Sunday to Sunday. Remind them that we are in this together.
Engage your audience when you go live. People want to be seen and heard when they tune in. Have someone in the comment thread commenting and engaging people as you go live. This is meant to be interactive. The more interactive you are, the more connected people feel.
If you don’t already have one, please launch an egiving digital option. Givelify is a popular platform for churches. CashApp and PayPal work well too. Yes you will lose a processing fee but you will gain an opportunity to have people continue to give regularly to the work of the church.
Crowdsource the resources of your congregants. Create a survey monkey survey to find out if your members have access to food relief options, shelter, technology or any other resources that your community may need. Again I repeat, you as a pastor do not have to have all the answers. The answers are sometimes within our congregations but we don’t recognize that because we’ve never asked. Now is a great time to find out what resources exist.
Above all, take heart that this situation is a marathon not a sprint. Streaming our worship services is great but it’s not the same thing as digital pastor care. We are required to still serve our people. Our phones and laptops might be the only way that we can reach our congregation right now if I believe we can still access ways to be the church even while we are being required to shelter in place and to practice social distancing. Let your phone be your tool during this season.
Lastly: I recognize that a time may soon come when people can not afford to pay their phone bills or their WiFi / internet connections because of the effect that social distancing is having on our economy. I am thinking even now about how to prepare for that. I don’t have the answers but I know that that is soon coming. Let’s keep thinking together so that we can meet the needs of our parishioners. I am praying for each and every one of you and I know you’re praying for me. We will get through this. I believe that completely.
JUST A REMINDER: We’re Still in a Pandemic: A reflection on the Minneapolis protests: A love letter to my people
MAY 29, 2020
It’s 3:00 in the morning and I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep not because my people are protesting…I can’t sleep because my people are protesting in the midst of a global pandemic. It’s 2020 and here we are. African Americans have been three times more impacted by the COVID-19 virus. Over the past three months we have been social distancing, staying six feet away from one another, working from home (for those who can), worshipping from our homes and more. We’ve been following what the scientists, public health professionals, governmental officials, and medical doctors have told us to do. We have been sheltering in place. We’ve held funerals and weddings over zoom. We’ve had graduation parties and church services over facebook live. We’ve been sheltering in place. For three months, we’ve been working hard to keep our people safe. For three months we have tried to attend to the needs of those who are immunocompromised, our elderly, our essential workers, and our most vulnerable. We’ve been diligently doing our part.
But then the hashtags resumed. #AhmaudArbery #BreonnaTaylor #NinaPop and #GeorgeFloyd. In the span of one month in the midst of our sheltering in place, black folks were killed while jogging, killed while sleeping in their homes, killed while walking in plain daylight. Killed while black.
Typically I am the first person to protest. Typically I can’t wait to lock arms with my community and speak truth to power. But my heart is heavy this week. My heart is heavy because this pandemic is still very much a threat. This pandemic is still killing us.
When you protest, you link arms (which can’t be done 6 feet apart). When you protest, you yell, chant & scream (which can’t be done extensively with a mask on). When you protest you sing, (which can’t be done without spreading air droplets). When we protest, we undue the careful attention we’ve given to this pandemic for the past few months.
My greatest fear is that black folks will choose to protest in person this weekend and two weeks later we will see more Black Death than we’ve seen in over a century because of COVID-19. This is why I can’t sleep. I cannot bear the idea of a percentage of the black race being wiped out because we showed up in massive numbers to protest Black Death. Why are Black people always asked to risk Black Death to protest Black Death? Why are we always in a position proximate to so much death? I’m tired. We’re tired. Yet, we must remain vigilant. We have to use the tools we know (the act of protesting) along with the tools we don’t yet know (how to do it in the midst of a pandemic).
I recognize that some of us will choose to protest anyhow. We will choose to put our bodies on the line for the sake of justice. I applaud you for your sacrifice. But I must insist on training. We’ve got to train our protestors.
People may be used to protesting but none of us have ever protested during a global pandemic.
I need us to warn one another about the risks we are incurring by protesting. This pandemic is not over. Just like the heroes of the civil rights movement trained people on nonviolent action, just like The Black Panthers trained people on their 10 point plan, we’ve got to train our people in this moment how to protest in the midst of a global pandemic. We must warn people that they’re sacrificing their lives. We must remind them that this pandemic is still as deadly as it was before the protests began.
I don’t pretend to have the answers. But because I love my people I must remind us. These are different times. We cannot afford to lose a percentage of the black race due to death by COVID-19. Yet the sobering truth is that the social conditions we experience when we protest are not conducive to the conditions necessary to stay alive during this pandemic. Social distancing and protesting cannot coexist. It is impossible.
While I don’t want us to protest in massive numbers during this pandemic, I do need us to keep affecting change. I do need us to speak truth to power. I do need us to overturn systems. I do need us to change legislation. I do need us to make our power known. But I also need us alive. I’m wondering what new tools might emerge in this moment. My prayer is that we find new ways to hold these white supremacist systems accountable while still persevering black lives in the midst of a pandemic. I love us. I want us to survive. I need us to survive. Every day some white supremacist system tries to kill us. Sometimes they succeed. Yet other times we survive. In the words of Lucille Clifton:
“Won’t you celebrate with me
what I have shaped into
a kind of life? I had no model.
Born in Babylon
Both nonwhite and woman
What did I see to be except myself?
I made it up
Here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand;
come celebrate with me
that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.”
Musings, Moments & Metamorphosis: 35 Tips on My 35th
SEPTEMBER 5, 2020
If we weren’t in a pandemic I would probably be having a big 35th birthday party somewhere. But in this pandemic, where parties aren’t safe for us and black life is too precious to risk, penning a digital birthday reflection feels spot on. Here is my offering to you on my 35th. 35 musings on moments in my life that have led to my personal metamorphosis. I hope that some of my musings move you to live more deeply into the truest essence of who you are. I want to see us thrive! You deserve to thrive!
THE LIST
I am enough
I don’t owe anyone an explanation of my scars…
3. I need people in my life who cheer for me publicly.
4. It’s okay to change your mind.
5. Insecurities can keep you from the best life has to offer. Don’t let them.
6. Sometimes life IS that good! Don’t sabotage it.
7. Stand by Those You Love.
8. Be who you actually are, not who you think they want you to be. People can always smell a fraud.
9. You can recover.
10. People aren’t villains. Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing of.
11. Hard work ALONE doesn’t pay off.
12. Everyone is risking it all…
13. Fall in love with someone: it’s as good as you think it is.
14. Start your own traditions.
15. Learn what you like & do more of it.
16. My worth is not determined by my work.
17. Take it personal.
18. Be aware of your triggers.
19. Tell your own story.
20. Spend time with people who bring you joy.
21. Stop apologizing.
22. Don’t wait for a special occassion…
23. Learn how to pause not quit.
24. I AM NOT YOUR SIS.
25. Feed hope. Starve doubt.
26. Shoot your shot.
27. Perfect your craft — you don’t have to be a natural…
28. The moral cost of sitting at some tables is too high.
29. Live communally.
30. Dream new dreams.
31. Pay it forward.
32. No, you may not pick my brain. Pay me.
33. Ask the elders in your life to tell you stories.
34. Take up space.
35. Be kind to yourself.
I am enough
It’s a cliche. You’ve heard it before. But it’s true. You are enough. I learned this in the fall of 2017. I had just turned 32 years old and made the decision to travel to Cambridge, England to live and study there for three months. I left everything I knew in New York City: took a sabbatical from my job as an associate pastor, resigned from my positions of leadership at Yale, talked with my hubby about whether he thought our marriage could withstand my being away for 3 months, prayed, took a deep breath and I went.
Something phenomenal happened when I went. Suddenly I was living in a place where no one knew me. No one had expectations of me. No one knew my history. It was a clean slate. In those months I learned that I was enough. I spent my weeks in Cambridge and my weekends in London. I traveled to Italy, Paris, Amsterdam, Portugal, and Ireland as weekend getaways just because I could. I linked up with a group of Black ex-pats who invited me in with open arms to their friend circle. I learned my way around the UK with no phone plan, hopping from WiFi to Wifi networks. I learned in that time period, that I really was enough. It gave me the confidence to know that I can start over at any point in my life and I will make it. It taught me that I can always rebuild.
The highlights of that trip were the weeks once a month that my husband would come to spend with me. Having him there meant the world. But when he would hop on his plane each month to head back to NYC, there I would be. Alone but aware that I was enough for my journey. When I got back to New York after those three months a lot of things changed in my life. The changes were hard but the lesson of the UK experience was the certainty that I could always begin again. And so can you.
2. I don’t owe anyone an explanation of my scars…
Scars have stories. Scars have stories. Scars have stories. Yet you don’t owe anyone the story of your scar. Just because someone asked you what happened doesn’t obligate you to share. Our stories are sacred. Share only with those who can honor your story. You’ve lived through some things. You’ve got a story to tell. Not everyone is worthy of your story. Learn to decipher who is.
3. I need people in my life who cheer for me publicly.
I’ve always been the person that people thank and/or affirm in private. It’s odd. For awhile, I felt selfish for wanting people to affirm me out loud. I felt guilty and self-absorbed for wanting this and yet I would see the same people that withhold public praise of me and my work cheering loudly and publicly for others.
What was it that made people treat me like a professional sidepiece? I looked up and I had become someone that folks went to for professional counsel or support but who acted like the barely knew me in public. As I grew older I began to realize that the why didn’t matter. I could spend all day analyzing people’s actions and I could still be wrong because I’m making assumptions. What mattered was for me to unpack what I needed.
This became apparent to me in 2016. I was excited to embark upon a professional milestone as a plenary panelist for a conference that I respected. I along with 4 other panelists were the keynote conversation in a room of 700 attendees with thousands more individuals viewing the livestream. About 3/4 of the way into the panel some audience members walked up to the Q&A mic to name that they felt that we as panelists were not properly reflecting the subject matter at hand. The room quickly went into an uproar as those at the Q&A mic named the ways in which they thought our panel didn’t measure up to the lived experiences of those we were representing. I was crestfallen. I felt I had missed a critical transformative moment to stand tall within my expertise. I felt suckerpunched. Why hadn’t I seen it coming?
I was near tears but didn’t let the tears win. Person after person named how horrible the panel was. I couldn’t wrap my head around how I had bombed so intensely. Hours later, after all of the drama died down, people began to text me saying that my commentary was on point. I was asking those I trusted where I went wrong and they would say “oh your points were good,” “your comments were fine…,” I was instantly relieved and furious. If I had done well, why wouldn’t people name that at the time when I needed to be rescued from that professional slaughter? Why “all panelists” us when it was “some panelists?” The folks that texted me never offered a public defense of my work in that moment. It took me months to recover.
At 35 I can say, I need people in my life who don’t hide their professional and personal relationships with me. I need people in my life who will offer support in the moment. I need people in my life who cite me. I need people in my life who say my name in rooms I’m not in. To some this might sound selfish. To others this might sound self-absorbed. But in my metamorphosis I’m unapologetically naming that that is what I need. Period.
4. It’s okay to change your mind.
When I was a freshman at Hampton I felt like I didn’t fit in. I had a rocky first semester and by semester two I had told my family that I wanted to transfer schools. My brother-in-law came to Hampton from Dallas, packed up my dorm room, shipped all of my things home and my family helped me finish the college transfer process. It was settled in my 19 year old mind that I was leaving.
And then as the summer began to progress I started reminiscing about the things I would miss about Hampton. The more I sat with it, the more I feared I had made the wrong choice. Around July I mustered up the courage to tell my mother that I wanted to go back to Hampton. God bless my mother, she is a saint. She didn’t make me feel badly about my choice. She asked me was I sure. When I said that I was, she began calling Hampton University administration repeatedly until she reached them. By August my mother had somehow worked the miracle of securing campus housing for me in the honors dorm and gotten me cleared for registration. My brother-in-law packed me back up, my big sister gave me some counsel and guidance and back to Hampton I went. My family never made me feel badly about changing my mind.
When I arrived on campus that fall, I had a new appreciation for my school. Several months later I began dating the man who would ultimately become my husband. Sometimes we lock ourselves into big decisions only because we fear people will think we are crazy if we change our minds. I’m sure my family thought I was nuts. But they stuck by me and they empowered me. They also taught me the lesson that I kept with me for the rest of my life: it’s okay to change my mind.
5. Insecurities can keep you from the best life has to offer. Don’t let them.
As a child I was extremely shy. I didn’t like talking in front of people. I always second guessed myself. I was too nervous to even order a meal at McDonalds. I remember my older sister used to encourage me: “speak up Gabriella” when people would ask me questions. I was always fearful of saying the wrong thing. As I got older, I spoke more but still feared that I would say the wrong thing. What if I cracked a joke and no one laughed? What if I made a point and someone thought it was stupid? What if I tried to dance but did it the wrong way? I was always second-guessing my own abilities.
But when I got to college, I met a 20 something year old named Marcus Williams. He didn’t attend our school but he was a local promoter in the area and was convinced that I would make a great host for a concert he was producing. The year was 2005 and at the time, I had been working as a radio DJ at our campus radio station. Marcus was convinced that I needed to emcee. My insecurities nearly got the best of me. I told him no a few times but he refused to take no for an answer. I finally gave in and said yes. That moment changed my life. I later graduated and moved to New York where much of my life’s work was connected to me having a mic in my hand. At one point I was on set of a BET show, I was there with a client. Once again my insecurities began to rise up. What if I wasn’t cool enough for BET? What if my client thought I didn’t have the answers she needed for her production needs? What if I couldn’t do this. I called Marcus from the studio and he reminded me just like he had at Hampton, that I was born to do this.
Marcus died suddenly in 2011, just 9 months after being a groomsman and vocalist in my and my husband’s wedding. I’ll always be indebted to him. He saw past my insecurities. He saw what I could not see.
6. Sometimes life IS that good! Don’t sabotage it.
I grew up with the “if it’s too good to be true, it probably is” mantra in the back of my head but deep down I didn’t really believe it. For much of my life things were really good. My mother worked hard to sacrifice for me so I never lacked anything. Beyond my needs, she made sure I had all of my wants too! In fifth grade she got me a puppy, at age 15 she got me my first cell phone, age 16 she got me a car, in college she got me my first iPod & macbook (when they first came out!) I can go on. In my life, things were good. Beyond material things, we had a deeply loving home. Life was good.
I almost bought into the lie that because I lived in a single parent household that somehow life must have been harder for me. Society wanted me to accept that because my father was not present that I somehow had an upbringing that was less than. But my experience was different. Our household was full of love, full of peace, we were complete just as we were. Sometimes your life is actually as good as you think it is. Don’t worry about it changing for the worst, just enjoy what you have. You deserve happiness. The statistics don’t have to be your reality. Just live your life.
7. Stand by Those You Love
The summer of 2007 was the summer after I graduated Hampton. I had planned to enroll in grad school at New York University that fall but in between Hampton and NYU I took a summer internship in Nashville interning for a woman I had a huge deal of respect for — CeCe Winans.
CeCe had a conference that she ran every year called Always Sisters. As an intern I was assigned to work that conference. I worked with the artists as an assistant to the stage manager. As a result, I had backstage access to everything that was taking place.
One of the guest artists that day took my breath away. It was Whitney Houston. Now this was Whitney of 2007. Whitney who was recently exposed on Bravo’s Being Bobby Brown series as full of life but a touch erratic. Whitney of 2007 was no doubt a superstar but this wasn’t Whitney of The Bodygaurd and Waiting to Exhale, this was Whitney whose personal life was making more headlines than her music.
Still, Whitney and CeCe had a storied history of friendship that their fans knew and loved. I’ll never forget the moment that CeCe called Whitney to the stage. Whitney was so happy to be with her Winans family. Whitney felt like singing so the band began playing her and CeCe’s hit: Count on Me. At the very moment that the media was trolling Whitney, CeCe was visibly proud of her friend. Whitney sang a bit more tentatively than usual but CeCe adjusted to her pace. They sang as only sisters can. It was clear that Whitney felt safe with The Winans. They honored her. They covered her. They loved her.
I learned then that true friendship is when the love is evident even when our friends come under scrutiny. The loving bond between Cece & Whitney that day was one I will never forget. It reminded me of how important it is to stand by those you love.
8. Be who you actually are, not who you think they want you to be. People can always smell a fraud.
It took me years to realize that folks are attracted to people who are comfortable in their own skin. Folks can smell a fraud a mile away. Quirky folks who are confident win over rehearsed swag every time. Be you. Trust me. Anything else is a waste of time.
9. You can recover.
In 35 years of living I’ve seen people recover from horrendous scenarios. I’ve seen people bounceback from some of life’s cruelest blows. I’m here to tell you, whatever life throws at you — you can recover. You are more than the worst thing that has happened to you.
For me, getting fired from a job I loved was my low point. Some would say that that’s no big deal but for me, I had attached so much of my identity to what I did for a living. Without that I spiraled into a serious identity crisis. I was embarrassed. Unsure of how to begin again. My pride was hurt. For awhile I was paralyzed by my shock and disappointment. But I can tell you this, I recovered. recovered and you can too. I learned so much about myself in that journey towards recovery. I’m a more self-aware woman now because of the process that that season of my life catapulted me into. Your situation might be a lot more dire than losing a job, but let me tell you — you can recover. This too shall pass.
10. People aren’t villains. Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing of.
Understand this: no one is a villain. Everyone has a story. Everyone has a reason. There are some experiences in my life that I’ve lived through where I painted those who opposed me as villains in my memory. It was easier for me to see them as one dimensional people who had done me wrong. But as I got older I realized that everyone is continuously in a decision loop of choices. Some people choose poorly and act in a villainous way towards us but that same person might be an angel towards someone else.
I’ve learned the key is to decipher who to allow into the intimate places of your heart. Everyone is fighting a battle we know nothing about. So as a result they may not handle you well. You don’t have to stick around for the mistreatment. Not everyone deserves access to the intimate spaces of your life. They may be great to others and horrible to you. Try your best to see them as fully human not villains, but if they aren’t treating you well, let them go.
11. Hard work ALONE doesn’t pay off.
I’m a worker. If I’m passionate about something I will work relentlessly until I reach my goal. I used to subscribe to the idea that if I worked hard that my work would speak for itself and I would ultimately have professional opportunities because of it. I quickly learned that hard work alone is not enough.
Hard work alone won’t get you there. It takes relationships. It takes conversation partners. It takes relational capital. Regardless of your field, working in silos is not enough. Don’t get it twisted, building true relational capital is hard work. It isn’t a cop out; it’s a necessary part of the work ethic of someone who plans to succeed. The work alone won’t get it done. You’ve got to build relationally alongside doing the work.
12. Everyone is risking it all…
I used to think that everyone successful had a master plan that they were working. As I saw people flawlessly move from company to company, getting promoted, launching businesses, getting married, having kids, buying property, moving cities, getting their degrees, etc. — it seemed like everyone knew what they wanted for their lives and were going about it precisely.
I’ve lived long enough to know now that everyone is winging it. Everyone is taking risks and hoping they pan out. No one knows for sure how these things will work out. But if you take enough risks, eventually something will pay off. You would be surprised at how many people you admire stumbled into some of the life-altering decisions they made for themselves in their lives. Cut yourself some slack. Take some risks!
13. Fall in love with someone: it’s as good as you think it is.
I love my husband. Like I REALLY love my husband. I always have. I always will. He and I started dating in college and got married just a couple weeks before my 25th birthday. Life with him has been a dream. Really. I’m not exaggerating. Falling in love with Andrew is one of the greatest decisions of my life.
I say decision because at a particular point I had to give myself over to the organic rhythms of our relationship. At first I was trying to calculate everything. I didn’t want my heart broken so I tried to measure how much I allowed myself to be into him. I didn’t want to be a young couple cliche so I was afraid of getting married too early. I had so many rules in my head about what I should or shouldn’t be doing. But when I decided to give myself over to the organic nature of falling in love with him, everything else worked itself out.
Everyone deserves a great love story. Everyone deserves to love and be loved by someone who has pledged their life to being with you. My advice to you is if you’re in the process of trying to balance love with all of the other dimensions of your life — just make space for love. The other things will work out. You deserve love.
14. Start your own traditions
Traditions are sacred. They’re commitments that you make to yourself and those who share them with you to commemorate things with intentionality. Most of us have holiday traditions, but traditions matter in other aspects of our lives too. About six years ago I began a tradition with my close friends to travel annually together. In the beginning the tradition was easier to keep because we all lived in the same city. But as we began to move to other cities the tradition became harder to keep but that much more sacred and meaningful. Traditions don’t have to only be those you inherit. Start your own. Traditions and rituals add value and expectation to our lives. They matter.
15. Learn what you like & do more of it.
I’ve discovered new things that I love that I didn’t grow up doing. I love Yankees baseball games, scenic road trips, long bike rides, drive-in movies, sailing, lake-side relaxing, facetime phone calls, live music sets, international travel, photography, city parks, nights in with friends, and family time. It took me years to realize that these are things that ALWAYS bring me joy.
I also had to learn what I don’t like. I’m not a fan of book clubs. I don’t like paint nights. I’m not a huge fan of most museums (though I love the Guggenheim in NYC & The Tate Modern in London, but that’s about it). I’m not a foodie. I love to go out to eat if the vibe is right but not for the food, I go for the ambience. I’m not big on Broadway plays — it takes a particular kind of script to wow me. I’m not a podcast girl. I’ll listen every now and again but I’m not subscribed to any of them.
There were times when I was younger that I would do things I didn’t like just so I wouldn’t be left out. Now, I’m completely comfortable saying no to the things I dislike and saying yes to what I love. It has made a huge difference.
16. My worth is not defined by my work.
This is big. It’s one thing to say it. It’s another thing entirely to mean it and to internalize it. This is the kind of self-worth that serial entrepreneurs have. This is the inner confidence that it takes to fail forward. Without a healthy disconnection of our selfhood from our work we will stunt our own growth. When we learn that we are more than what we produce it frees us to imagine differently. It gives us space to dream. I found the beauty of this while unemployed. Once I stopped trying to make up answers for people who asked “what do you do” I unlocked the power of naming who I am despite what I do. The freedom that comes with that kind of awareness is priceless.
17. Take it personal.
Listen, I know that folks continually say “don’t take it personal” when they make moves that affect us but I would offer that you should always assess how you’re personally affected by someone else’s engagement with you. I’ve learned that telling myself not to take it personal sometimes translates to me ignoring the way certain things make me feel and that isn’t healthy. I’ll admit that sometimes people do not intentionally mean to harm BUT if the impact of their engagement with you harms you then you owe it to yourself to assess how you are on a personal level.
Never let others define for you how you’re allowed to feel. If something personally harms you, you owe it to yourself to check-in with yourself. I’ve learned that pausing to check-in with myself to see why certain things affect me has helped me to do the self-work I need to do so that when people are moving how they need to move it won’t affect me as strongly.
So take it personal. Spend time working on you. It’s far better than ignoring your own feelings.
18. Be aware of your triggers
This is directly connected to point number 17. Sometimes things affect us personally because they set off our triggers. All of us have certain things that trigger us. Past experiences leave scars and as I said earlier, scars have stories. Sometimes the lingering trauma of those stories lingers in our bodies as triggers. That’s what causes a harmless joke to send us into a personal tailspin because it reminds us of a moment of trauma in our lives that other people know nothing about.
Triggers can cause us to act out in an emotionally rash way. We’ve got to be mindful of our triggers so that we don’t place ourselves in scenarios that might cause us to lose our cool or set us back emotionally. The personal work of naming and keeping your triggers top of mind is the kind of groundwork for flourishing that all of us need to lay.
19. Tell your own story. “If you’re silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” — Zora Neale Hurston.
Practice telling your own story. People need to hear your voice. They need to hear your perspective. Don’t let others co-opt your life’s journey. No one can tell your story like you. In my work as a brand strategist I ask my clients all the time: who are you? How do you want to be known? These questions are critical. The older I get the more I answer in story form. Storytelling is a powerful tool. Spend some time with yourself. You would be surprised how many stories we’ve hidden. How much truth we’ve buried. How much joy we’ve forgotten. Go back and recover your story. Tell it with fervor and flair. No one can tell your story like you!
20. Spend time with people who bring you joy.
Remember when we were in elementary school and our parents or teachers required us to make valentines day cards for everyone in the class? Or when your birthday rolled around and your parents had you invite the full class? We did that at a young age to help young people build self-esteem. But as we grew older we naturally gravitated to some and not others. Keep that same energy as adults! Stop inviting people who drain you into the intimate spaces of your life. Life is too short for that. You deserve safe spaces with friends who get you whose company you enjoy. Don’t settle for anything less.
21. Stop apologizing.
Half of the things we apologize for don’t require an apology. An apology is owed when you’ve done something wrong but many of us apologize for every little thing. We apologize for having different opinions. We apologize for not wanting to socialize in the way that others do. We apologize for things that aren’t our fault. We’ve got to stop doing that because what we are doing is conditioning ourselves to believe that there is somebody else in control of running our lives that we need to please. That’s not it. You are in control of your life. You decide how you want to move in this world. Don’t give your power over to other people. Empower yourself to make decisions that are edifying for you. Unless you’ve actually harmed someone, you don’t owe them an apology. So stop apologizing!
22. Don’t wait for a special occasion…
I love special occasions as much as the next person. But I’ve stopped living life in a way that only allows me to splurge or celebrate on special occasions. Life is too unpredictable for that. We miss opportunities waiting for the perfect occasion to embrace them. Embrace life! Trust me, special occasions will still be special, but build a lifestyle of celebration. Celebrate the small wins. Grant yourself permission to sit in the moment. Pause to take in your good news whenever it comes. Sneak in mini-celebrations in between the big ones. Celebrate life. Honor your journey. You deserve it.
And when special occasions come: do them big! Shout out to my family for the epic party we threw my Mom last year. She’s still raving about it. With a pandemic this year she’s cherishing the memories we created last year. So make memories when you can, where you can! It matters!
23. Learn how to pause not quit.
I’ve gotten frustrated on more than one occasion in my personal and professional life. In my twenties if I felt I couldn’t handle something I would leave. If I had conflict I couldn't resolve with a friend I would cut them out of my life. But as I’ve gotten older I’ve learned the beauty of reconcilliation. I’ve seen the power and the beauty of learning how to redefine a situation and try it another way. I’ve learned that sometimes you don’t have to leave. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. You might just need to pause and reassess. If I could do it again, some of the friends I quit on would still be in my life. Some of the jobs I ended might still be clients of my consulting business, some of the entrepreneurial ventures I began might still be running. Learn to pause, reassess, and redefine before you quit. It might be the perspective you need to hold onto something that you’ve worked hard for.
24. I AM NOT YOUR SIS.
A strange thing happens in my profession. People start calling me sis after they’ve been my FaceBook friend for 2 weeks and have heard me preach, teach, or consult. Let me make this very clear: I am not your sis. I am your pastor. I am your minister. I am your brand coach. I am your colleague. I am your facilitator. I am your guest keynote. I am someone with three degrees working on her fourth with 15 years of work experience and several areas of expertise. You do not know me. I reserve the word sis for those I’ve actually built sisterhood with. You should do the same. If you can call my male counterparts Rev., when you don’t know them; If you can call my male counterparts coach, when you don’t know them; If you can put respect on their names, when you don’t know them, you can do the same with mine. Let me say it again for those in the back: I am not your sis.
PS: if you’re my actual sis (real friend in real life for whom I have shared experiences that have bonded us like sisters) you may call me sis. If you don’t know if that’s you, refer to the previous paragraph.
25. Feed hope. Starve doubt. We all know that our doubts can take over if we let them. But what would happen if instead of feeding our doubts we fed our hope? What if we started imaging what would happen if things went well instead of obsessing over what would go wrong? Feed your hope.
26. Shoot your shot. You’ve got to try! It may seem impossible. It may seem far off, but if you don’t try how will you know? We miss 100% of the shots we don’t take. Believe in yourself enough to try. You never know, the outcome might surprise you!
27. Perfect your craft — you don’t have to be a natural…
Let me let you in on a secret. Many of the people who you think are naturally gifted are people who have worked on their craft. Naturally gifted singers have vocal coaches. Naturally gifted public speakers often have a speakers bureau to help them secure engagements, athletes have coaches, leaders have mentors, everyone you think is naturally gifted is actually getting help, so why aren’t you? No one is self-made. The idea of a self-made individual is a myth. Don’t beat yourself up for not being naturally able to compete on the highest level. Take some time to work on you by perfecting your craft. Invest in yourself. You don’t have to be a natural, just be committed.
28. The moral cost of sitting at some tables it too high.
Nina Simone said it best, “you’ve got to learn how to leave the table when love is no longer being served.” Too many closed door high power meetings require us to check our integrity at the door. Sometimes the price to play the game costs too much. Don’t sell your soul simply to be on the inside of a powerful group. You’ll become just like them if you’re not careful. In my 35 years of life I’ve had to walk away from some tables that were turning me into a version of myself that I didn’t like. Sometimes you have to love yourself enough to say I’m going to accomplish my goal but I’ve got to do it another way. I don’t want it like this. As Matthew 16:26 reminds us: “what does it profit a man [or woman] to gain the whole world but lose their soul?”
29. Live communally.
It’s a very western concept to live in a way that we only look out for the individual. Our ancestors on the continent of Africa live communally. They live in a way that ensures everyone in the community has what they need. I’ve learned that that is the best way to live. As the African proverb says: “if you want to go fast go alone, but if you want to go far go together.” Living communally ensures long-term benefits for our people. Living communally means even though my husband and I don’t have children yet, we need to look out for the young people in our community. Living communally means checking on one another. One of the silver linings that I saw in the beginning of the pandemic was people living communally. Ordering groceries for the elderly, checking on loved ones with pre-existing conditions, sharing information with all. There was an all for one and one for all spirit that emerged at the beginning of the pandemic, when people realized that we were all in this together, and that our opportunities for survival depended on how we helped each other get through this pandemic. It is my hope that as conditions change for the better that we still remember that we are all connected.
30. Dream new dreams.
As I get older and get settled into the rhythms of my current life I’ve reminded myself that I need to keep dreaming. One dream of mine has manifested already: my husband and I launched our own church in Brooklyn, New York. It’s still surreal to me that our church exists in the world and yet I’m calling myself to envision new dreams for our church. I want to dream afresh about who we can be, who we can reach, and what our work in the world will continue to look like. For as long as we are living we should all have new dreams!
31. Pay it forward.
At this stage in my life I’m mid-career. I’ve experienced a lot and have a few best practices up my sleeve. It’s incumbent upon me to pass that along to the generation behind me. I’m also at a stage in my career where there are skillsets that I have that can benefit the generation ahead of me as well. As I sit in the intersection of mid-career milestones I consider it a joy to be able to assist and equip those who’ve been doing this work longer than me as well as those who are just starting out. What a gift.
32. No, you may not pick my brain. Pay me.
Let me go ahead and call this straight: 15 minutes on the phone with me can change the trajectory of your career. The strategy skillsets that I’ve acquired over my career are gold. I know it and you know it, that’s why you want to “pick my brain.” But at age 35, we’re not doing that anymore. Pay me. Cite me. Value me as a professional. If you don’t value my work enough to pay me for it and cite me when you use it, then we don’t need to have this conversation. Period.
33. Ask the elders in your life to tell you stories.
Too often we hear stories about our elders at their funerals. Why wait until then? If you have loved ones, neighbors, community leaders in your life who you know well, ask them to tell you a story. Their stories are priceless. Their stories also give us a glimpse into the history of our own families and communities. You would be surprised what you find out when you simply make time for a story with your family.
34. Take up space.
I noticed lately that I tend to play small when I first enter a room. I usually assess who the players are. What the customs and traditions are. Where the energy is in the room, etc. But one day I said to myself, this is ridiculous. I don’t need to be myself in response to the energy I sense in a room, but rather, I need to be myself period. The people who have the most influence are the individuals who are themselves in every room they occupy. It becomes their signature. People know what to expect. People know what they are about. I began to ask myself, am I making my presence felt in this room? Am I contributing to the conversation? Would they miss my voice if I wasn’t here? The answers to those questions challenged me to take up more space. The shift has allowed me to do much more relational building and has given me more confidence. Take up space y’all. If you’re going to be in the room — be in the room!
35. Be kind to yourself.
Wow. You made it to the end of this list! My parting note for you is to be kind to yourself. We have high expectations on ourselves and while we all hope that we reach the goals we set for ourselves I want to remind us to be kind to ourselves. Life is hard. We’re living through two pandemics, making decisions as situations arrive, attempting to forge some sense of normalcy in an abnormal climate, and so much more. Be kind to yourself. For me that looks like taking breaks. It looks like actually giving myself time to do the things I enjoy. It looks like actually pausing to celebrate my birthday even though the conditions for celebration have changed. Be kind to yourself. Kindness goes a long way. Even when it’s kindness shown towards yourself.
The cruel game of “I’m not surprised, but…”
SEPTEMBER 23, 2020
There’s a cruel rhetorical game that black folks in America play every time we seek justice for our people. Our hope has to somehow sit alongside a grounded reality that what we hope for likely won’t come to pass. It’s cruel. It’s wearisome. Yet we play the game. We dance between optimism and apathy. We rally & demand while quietly holding in the depths of our hearts the unsettling suspicion that things will likely be the same as they’ve always been — the system will again win.
That’s why when Kentucky Attorney General Daniel Cameron gave his abhorrent press conference today, black folks across America uttered those eerily familiar words: “I’m not surprised, but.” It’s a phrase that reminds us that we were collectively holding our breath just to exhale in time to realize that the more things change the more they stay the same. We knew we couldn’t trust the system. We knew this black man had no intention of risking his political security for the well-being of our people, yet it still pierced our souls. They toyed with our emotions. They granted anindictment, but not our indictment. They gave justice to others but not to us. And to add insult to injury, a black man delivered the news while dog whistling to his white Republicans allies that he wasn’t one of us.
I’m not surprised, but…
I’m concerned about the internal impact of this embodied recognition of our current reality. What happens when an entire race of people is ridiculed for believing that something different might be possible? Why do we feel the need to say I’m not surprised before we shift to naming the hurt, lament and frustration that occurs as a result of our deepest pain being realized? Why must we qualify our levels of despair with an “I’m not surprised” statement? Could it be that we feel foolish for hoping? Could it be that we feel foolish for dreaming of a world where we can receive justice for our people?
Maybe freedom looks like being able to name our harm without having to qualify it. Maybe freedom looks like being able to name our pain without having to prove or validate it. Maybe freedom is being able to cry without explanation; mourn without apology; and scream without being stifled.
My hope for Black America tonight is that we get the freedom to name our pain without qualifiers. I’m dreaming of a world where we can be surprised. Hey America, surprise us. Grant us justice. We could use a plot twist right about now.
Jarena Lee & Me: How a Woman’s Journey from 250 Years Ago Motivated Me to Cherish my Own…
FEBRUARY 12, 2021
Yesterday, February 11th was the birthday of Jarena Lee. She died just a month shy of her 81st birthday. I’ve always known her story but yesterday I was covering an event for one of my clients that centered the personal and professional life of Jarena Lee. The conversation was held by two experts on the matter: Dr. Teresa Fry Brown & Dr. Valerie Bridgeman. They walked the webinar participants through the memoirs of Jarena Lee and the choices she made in her own life over 250 years ago.
Jarena Lee (1783–1864) is a contemporary of Sojourner Truth (1797–1883), and Harriet Tubman (1822–1913). Among these women I find a similar resilience and determination. They each did what they were purposed to do without permission from those that sought to silence and oppress them.
Historian and theologian Dr. Fry Brown informed us yesterday, that though Jarena Lee was the first black woman authorized to preach by Bishop Richard Allen in 1819, it took nearly 200 years for that same denomination to ordain her, posthomously.
Yet, Jarena Lee did her work. She did what she was purposed for. She named her own conditions and she did what she was called to do. Still, as event curator and host Dr. Bridgeman reminded us: Jarena Lee died penniless, cleaning other people’s homes in her late 70s until her death. She died with a great deal of anonymity. Only recently has her story been recovered.
And while it pains me that she died in poverty, it blesses my soul that she didn’t die without telling her story. Her story lives on because she took the time to write it. Lee didn’t just let life happen to her. She moved through life how she needed to and she chronicled it.
She refused to let those who didn’t value her, be the ones with the opportunity to tell her story.
And as I sat in the webinar, tears began to roll down my face. How many of us are afraid to tell our stories? How many of us, 250 years later, have far more privilege & access to ways of claiming agency in our lives but we simply let life happen to us without putting up a fight? I couldn’t help but think about Malcolm X and his passion to write his own biography once he realized those he thought were his allies were actually his foes. So many of our ancestors did far more with far less. They found ways to say: I WAS HERE.
As I sat in that webinar yesterday, I realized that we give up our power so easily. We let our oppressors narrate our stories. We give too much control to those who won’t even see to it that we aren’t penniless at the times of our death. Dr. Teresa Fry Brown put it like this yesterday:
“Write some things down so people know you were here when you’re gone. Put something away for you, because people will use you up when they need you and when they can’t use you any longer to build themselves up, they’ll be done with you. If you don’t have anything for yourself, you’ll be poor.” (PARAPHRASE from yesterday’s webinar)
With the help of our ancestors before us, and the sages who are still presently with us, we all have the capacity to LIVE ON PURPOSE. You don’t have to be an author to state that you were here. You don’t have to be a preacher to carry out God’s purpose for your life. But you do have to beintentional. You do have to be unapologetic. You do have to take back control of your life. You do have to give nos where they are required and yes’ where they are required. You do have to FIGHT for your right to the life that you deserve. That’s what Jarena Lee, Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, Malcolm X and so many others can show us. Live life on purpose. Go for broke for what is yours.
And if there’s one last thing that resonated that I’ve got to name, it’s this: put something aside for yourself. Dr. Fry Brown told us yesterday: sacrifice some things but don’t sacrifice it all. You’ve got to save something for you. This Black History Month, put aside some joy for yourself. Put aside some laughter for yourself. Put aside some fulfillment for yourself. Put aside some coins for yourself. Don’t give it all away. And as that saying goes “we’ve got to learn to love the sound of our feet walking away from things not meant for us.” Stay on your journey y’all. Stand firm in who you are. Make Jarena Lee proud. And if you’ve got it in you — write it down.
How My Christmas Tree Reminded Me of My Healing…
DECEMBER 23, 2020
Last night we went to our favorite Christmas Tree Nursery on 145th Street & Broadway. As we exchanged money with the vendor, I said to him: “we almost didn’t buy a tree this year.” The vendor’s response, “I almost didn’t come this year.” That my friends, is 2020.
But as hard as this year has been for all. I didn’t have the heart to tell the vendor that we hadn’t purchased a tree since 2016. Somehow I looked up and four years had passed. For some, that’s not a huge deal. But for Gabby & Andrew Wilkes that is wild. You see when we got married in 2010 we created a holiday tradition of our own — an annual Christmas potluck. We hosted our friends in our Harlem Brownstone every year for six years straight. It was our space to slow down the pace of the year, to celebrate our wins, to dance, to laugh, and to gather.
But in December 2017 my husband and I received some devastating news just one week before Christmas. The news was too hard to bare so we cancelled our annual Christmas party. I simply couldn’t imagine keeping a fake smile on at our party while I processed the jarring news that we had just received. We told our friends we would just host again the following year. But we never did. Not only didn’t we host again. We never decorated our home for Christmas after that moment. A six year tradition ended just like that.
But three years later, I finally felt myself desiring a tree again. Instead of going back to that low place I found myself in three years ago, suddenly I had a desire to “do Christmas” again. The only problem was we were living in the midst of a global pandemic. The year I finally was healed enough to “do Christmas” is the year that for reasons of public health safety, no one was “doing Christmas.” The irony wasn’t lost on me.
As my husband and I pivoted to become COVID safe, we cancelled our Christmas 2020 travel plans and I decided I wanted a tree. Desiring a tree wasn’t a small thing for me. Desiring our own tree was a moment of coming back to myself. It was the act of giving myself permission to reclaim something that once brought me joy. I stayed up until 4am in the morning trimming the tree, playing Christmas music, drinking eggnog, and coming back to myself. Trimming our tree somehow became an act of reclamation for me. As I trimmed our tree, I began to call to the forefront of my mind my favorite Christmas memories. And the memories that I recalled were the moments where I was free to be myself. Free to set my own climate. Free to make space and time for loved ones I held dear. The more I trimmed, the more I remembered. The more I remembered, the more I smiled. The more I trimmed, the more I realized that I had deprived myself of this kind of joy and agency without even realizing it. I had simply stopped trying.
As I trimmed my tree last night, I realized that somewhere along the way I had fallen into solely trimming other people’s trees. Somewhere along the way I had gotten comfortable tending to other people’s Christmas traditions and I had abandoned my own. It dawned on me last night that because my memory of the 2017 crisis had occurred so close to Christmas that year, I had released control of my Christmas in 2017 and never took it back. I put it down but I never picked it back up. I somehow convinced myself that cancelling the dominant thing that brought us joy that year, was a sacrifice I needed to make because I didn’t feel I could show up well in the space as host without being on. All these years later I have to ask myself, why did I think our friends needed us to be “on?” No one ever told us that. Why did I so desperately need to be in control in that moment?
What might have happened if instead of cancelling our tradition that year we kept it? What if instead of cancelling on our friends because I couldn’t find my smile had turned into keeping our party because we needed friendship the most at that time. It could have been a deepening moment to let our community support us as we navigated everything we had to hold. How different might that have made our Christmas memory that year? I’ll obviously never know. But as I trimmed our tree last night into the wee hours of this morning, I made a new commitment to myself — never again to cancel on me. Shift/adjust — yes. Cancel — no.
So in 2020, while the world is shutting its doors to outsiders, and Christmas gatherings are smaller or non-existent, I’ve got my tree. I’ve got my hubby and while Christmas might be smaller this year. It’s not cancelled. For the first time in three years, I’ve found my Christmas healing and I’m not going back. In the words of Nat King Cole: “Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, how lovely are your branches!” I don’t think I’ll ever look at Christmas trees quite the same. I hope this story inspires you not to cancel on yourself. Even in 2020, find new ways to reclaim what brings you joy and to harness it in a safe but powerful way. You deserve it. Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays to all. The joy you once had is joy you can have again. Don’t give up on it. Reclaim it.