RE-ENTRY 2022
Well, the time has come. I’ve dreaded writing this blog post and have been putting it off as long as I could. But, as we enter into the final day at The People of Color Conference 2022, I know that 7,800+ educators are about to close out an incredible few days of connection, collaboration, curiosity, and critical check ins and head back into it.
What is it?
It is re-entry.
Re-entry 2022.
This conference closes out my 8th (I think?) PoCC. I know that there are many, many people here who have been here for much longer than that, some of you all starting back in its 35th year. There are some of you who are here who came in 2019, just weeks before our physical world closed down to address the COVID-19 global crisis. I also want to appreciate all of you who started in independent schools during the pandemic, who came to PoCC virtually, and for whom this is the first in-person PoCC. I also deeply acknowledge our family who chose not to come to the conference this year due to personal, political, and self-preservation reasons that are valid and affirmed. We have missed your spirit and joy here. Of those who I know, I appreciate Mr. Bobby Edwards and Ms. Priscilla Morales who led our communities over the years to stay connected, particularly in the virtual community and who are not here with us in person this week.
As I checked in with people during the week and asked, “So, how is it going for you?” There was always a pause before the answer. Good. Amazing. Overwhelming. Different. Important. Helpful. Incredible. Disorienting.
Best said, “I am feeling a whole mix of things.”
As an avid people-watcher, I witnessed some people scream and leap across the convention center lobby as they saw, in person, friends they had only met online or friends they hadn’t seen since 2019. I also watched as others came as “singletons” (my favorite word from Nicole DuFauchard) or people who might be the ‘only ones’ in their schools or at PoCC. I saw people look at their “1st year attendee” badges and welcome them openly to The Well. I also, in truth, saw some people who felt “lonely in a crowd” and who, despite being among 7,800 educators, felt alone, isolated, and invisible.
But this post isn’t a recap of our time here.
This post is about re-entry.
In 2017, I wrote my first Re-entry letter as a way to support all of us who had their hearts, minds, and souls filled with affirmation and validation. And, I knew what you were going back to. I wanted to find a way to communicate with your colleagues about where you were, what you did, and how to best support you. I mean, it still holds up after all these years, I think!
But, 2022 has been a different year. It’s a year where we are grieving. In addition to holding joy, we are also carrying sadness. On the way to the main session, Mr. William Yepes (who is both a dear friend and a former student of mine) and I were walking in the hallway. Of course, everyone stops William, am I right? But on this occasion, as we were rushing off to the main session to get a coveted seat, one of the staff members of the convention center stopped William to ask him about his beautiful garment. Within minutes, the staff member said, “I stopped you because of your beautiful clothing. You reminded me of my daughter who danced flamenco here on the Riverwalk. She died. She died of COVID. But seeing you and your light reminded me of her, so I had to say something.”
We are carrying sadness. We carry light. We carry joy. We carry the weight of racism, oppression, and as Dr. J Luke Wood describes, we also carry the impact of racelighting.
How do we return back to our schools and communities after this 2022 experience? What does action look like? What does it mean for us to build the habits and skills to not just survive our institutions but, in as Dr. Bettina Love reminds us, but to thrive?
I offer a few suggestions here both for all of us who are re-entering after this weekend back to our home schools and for those who are about to experience our energy upon return. But here’s how this one is different - previous ReEntry blogs were about how to simply feel fulfilled. This time, I’m asking us to do better. I’m asking us to elevate our own actions.
I’m asking us to lead.
For US. For OURS.
Let’s be real - as a scholar, I could quote a bunch of theoretical frameworks and philosophical approaches that can serve as a guiding foundation for this section. But, nah. I’m going to grab inspiration from where inspiration comes: the dope t-shirts that people are rocking here at PoCC. Shouts to Johara Tucker, Esq., who all week has been bringing the fire on her t-shirt game and whose “What’s the T Wednesday” continues to offer that good-trouble. I see you, JT. I see you.
Protect Your Peace, At All Costs: If you experienced peace this week, name it. What was peaceful about this week? What brought you peace? What did peace look/feel/smell/taste/hear like? What action can you engage in that recreates that peace when you return? What consequences exist when your peace is negotiated and when others take it from you? We learned that racism, oppression, and fatigue have not just cognitive and emotional consequences but also physiological consequences – elevated heart rate, blood pressure, decrease in restful sleep, migraines, upset stomach, compromised immune systems. Those are all costs to pay. What does it mean when you and your body are the payment for this work? Is that what you are willing to do, or is protecting your peace a part of what keeps you whole?
Believe Trans Kids: There are many of us who are told that our humanity is negotiable - that our lives, experiences, identities, and stories are something to be proven in order to be seen as valid by others. The burden of proof is often placed on those who are already most marginalized, most minoritized, and most vulnerable. So, what does it mean for us to lead with curiosity to ask “What would it mean if it were true?” As we head back into our spaces, lead with curiosity and give others the structures to do so, too. You may have engaged in deep learning about issues of race, but what about the many other aspects of identity that were not included in our learning experiences here. How did we, as a community, erase and make invisible other communities here at PoCCC? How did our own proximity (or lack of) inform and impact who we made visible, who we saw, and who we believed this week? How did our family to who identify as gender fluid, transgender, non-binary, or gender expansive experience a space that lacked inclusive bathrooms? If you identify as cisgender, did you even notice? As you reenter, continue to build knowledge, engage in reflection, and move to action as you uplift all of our community identities, particularly when we know what oppression feels like. How must we elevate our own awareness and action?
Whose Land Are We On? I admit, I am a bit surprised at the lack of attention to the issues and experiences of Native, Indigenous, and First Nation communities here. Or, maybe I’m not. As someone who does not have close proximity to these communities, I am well aware of how my own actions have perpetuated the erasure of Native, Indigenous, and First Nation peers, teachers, educators, students, issues, and initiatives. I also appreciate how many of our colleagues who identify as Indigenous are often asked to “choose” a community, particularly as multiracial people with Indigenous heritage. As we go back to our home communities, what action will you take to amplify experiences, stories, voices, and perspectives that we, too, have been complicit in erasing or where we create binary choices related to identity. We have work to do here.
Accessibility IS a Diversity Issue: D-E-I-A. Accessibility for all should be a cornerstone of our work in inclusion and justice. What did it mean for those who live with and experience ability issues to navigate this convention center? Did we think about the impact of the lack of closed captioning in our presentations? Did we consider the ways in which body size and shape were impacted by close chairs and narrow rows? As a participant or facilitator, did we even notice how accessible or not accessible the PoCC experience was? As we go back to our home communities, what do we notice about how our practices, policies, programs, and procedures further marginalize those who live with and experience disabilities in our spaces and our communities?
Melanated, Educated, Bougie: I am here for this. All of this. Know who you are. Know what you want. Know your worth. Come for what you want. Leave that other mess behind. Don’t let people make you play small. During a workshop, I shared that the definition I use for belonging sounds like this: “Removing all barriers that require an individual to change, shift, adjust, or minimize who they are in order to fit in or be accepted.” You have spent the last few days, I hope, feeling like you belong, So, what needs to happen so that you continue to live big, to be your fullest self, and to show up without needing to be accepted?
For me, the t-shirt game is an extension of who we are, right? Who we are informs and impacts how we act, interact, and see the world around us. So, what are you wearing on the outside? How is this a reflection of who you are on the inside? And, what behaviors would you want to start, stop, change, or continue in order to align those two?
As you reenter, people are going to ask you “How it was” and “What did you do.” As I tell people in my workshops, you don’t have to consent to conversations. You do not owe anyone your narrative. If you want to keep this for you, keep this for you. If you want to share, then share. But, you have agency. You have power. You have choice. And that choice includes what you want to share and what you want to keep. But, we cannot simply choose what types of identities we want to include; what types of oppression we are willing to uphold. While I have felt affirmed as a person of color at PoCC, I know I/we can do better as I witnessed the erasure of other identities here in our spaces. Our humanity is tied in with each other.
PoCC Fam, I’ll close at the end with a letter you may want to send to your community as you prepare for re-entry. The PoCC experience is more than a professional development (PD) event, and so it makes sense that some might not understand just what you went through. Let’s set up success. That saying, “We teach people how to treat us” is true for this, too. Let people know how to treat you on re-entry, as you return back from the Well.
Continuing to hold you all in the peace and light that we all carry, bring, and share.
In peace and power,
Liza
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For THOSE. For OTHERS.
Okay, for those of you who are trying to prep your community for your return, here is a helpful little piece that might help to ease that transition:
Dear colleagues,
First, thank you for your support during the past few days when (I/we) have been at the People of Color Conference, held in-person, for the first time since 2019.
This is a difficult experience to describe and, therefore, I/we don’t expect you to fully understand what this was like. There are things you might want to ask me/us or might want to say to me/us out of curiosity, support, or even just as a way to connect. And, as this was a very different experience from other professional development days, I want to make sure I set us up for success. Here are a few suggestions for how to be supportive and encouraging as I/we transition back from PoCC and into our home community.
Ask me if I’d like to share. Just as the first few days being at a conference can be disorienting, returning home can be a bit disorienting, too. If I am standoff-ish on my/our first day back, please be patient. Ask if I’d like to share my experience or if I am ready to share. This helps me to make choices about what I am ready to share and when.
Resist calling this a vacation or time-off. Yes, I was not at work, but that does not mean I wasn’t working. Every session, conversation, keynote, and master class I attended was focused on how I could improve and enhance my teaching, leading, learning, coaching, and advising. I am returning back with some great action items for our classroom, school, and community. But, in order to get to those action items, I was engaged in deep reflection - questions that challenged me, my practice, and my pedagogy. And, that was hard. That was exhausting. Instead of asking me if I enjoyed my “time off”, ask me what it felt like to be engaged in the work.
Ask what you can do to create conditions that support my action items. This week, I’ve learned that it is important our institutions focus on policies, practices, programs, procedures, and traditions. I can’t do that alone. But you can help. You can be an ally, co-conspirator, and abolitionist with me. So, if you are really serious about helping me shape a more inclusive and just community, take on a task. Take on an action item. Take on some of the burden that I cannot (and will not) take on alone. When I delegate that to you, take it on willingly. Use your privilege as we engage in risk and conflict together.
Build knowledge, engage in reflection, move to action. I learned so much this week - about different issues, communities, and initiatives and also about myself. I worked this week. If you want to be a part of this, too. Find ways for you to build knowledge (“what is it that I need to know?”), engage in reflection (“what does this have to do with me?”), and move to action (“what is it that I need to do?”). I might be able to point you in the right direction, but just as I did this work this week, I’m inviting you and asking you to do this work, too.
I’m tired. This work isn’t just the work. We are also talking about my humanity, my life, and my Self. I’m exhausted from trying to change systems and ideologies that will not change. And, I need you to walk that walk. Pick up where I simply cannot. Take on the tasks that I have tried to move forward, but because of interlocking systems of oppression, I simply cannot. I’m tired. And, I’m fired up. Both/and. I’m holding Both/And. Know that this feels as complicated as it sounds, and believe it is true. Then, take on some of the work to change the systems that make me/us tired.
This week, it is clear that engaging in identity work is about collaboration, critical thinking, and curiosity. At a time when people push a narrative that identity work is divisive, I am asking you to lean into the ways in which talking about identity can actually bring us closer, can help us be more inclusive, and can contribute to deeper belonging in our schools.
As I/we return back to school, I anticipate feeling a range of emotions; trying a list of action items; and processing so many impactful conversations. I/we have recommitted ourselves to building the habits and skills for more inclusive schools, and I/we are looking forward to how we can do this together.