When Black Women Lead

"We need to reshape our own perception of how we view ourselves. We have to step up as women and take the lead."

- Beyoncé

The Diversity Engagement, Training, and Education (DETE) office is run by three incredible Black women. I repeat: DETE is RUN by three INCREDIBLE BLACK WOMEN. Wow. I could end this post here and be totally content. But I won't because these women DESERVE. I'd like to dig a little deeper into what it means for Black women to lead the educational arm of the campus division committed to equity, inclusion, and diversity. This is about what organizational leadership and inclusive practice becomes when Black women are in charge.

When I first interviewed for the graduate intern position over the summer, I was thrilled to find 3 Black women leading the office. As a Black person on a predominantly White campus, it is very rare to walk into a space where those holding power look like you and share a specific cultural context. During that interview, we laughed, we complimented each other's hair, we strategized. It sounds so simple but it felt so good. I felt seen and held in a way that I do not in my full-time professional role.

When I came for my onboarding process, I met with the internship supervisor, Beverly Williams, who is easily one of the funniest people I've met as an intern. Beverly comes equipped with a big smile and a sense of humor that would make any conversation easy to have. For her, it seemed the work of diversity and inclusion was serious business - vital, even, but at the center of her world were people, their well-being, and their sense of joy. As the director of DETE, Beverly's humor set the tone for the office. There was often quite a bit of playful banter between her and Erin Morant, the program coordinator, banter that kept them both accountable to each other and the work. Stepping into their office suite felt more like stepping into a family member's living room than it felt like stepping into an internship.

That overarching culture of familial humor even manifested at the top of DETE's hierarchy with Dr. Stephanie Helms Pickett, the new Associate Vice Provost, who insisted on day one with a "Now, look..." that I stop being so formal with her and call her Stephanie, not Dr. Helms Pickett. My first major assignment as an intern was with Stephanie when I joined the Assessing Assessment summer working group. The task of that group was to review all of the assessment methods utilized by OIED's units and determine a more cohesive model. I joined at the tail end of this work but our first meeting was right before the Fall semester and took place over Google Hangouts. From the start, Stephanie lead the team in a way that was relaxed and open. She kept us moving forward but did not dictate where forward would lead. As I'd come to find out later during several interviews with Assessing Assessment members, Stephanie's actions indicated that she trusted each of the committee members (nearly all women of color) to bring their respective experiences and expertise to the table.

It was that trust that enabled a radical shift in how OIED understood assessment. As the new assessment model was developed, committee members were able to uplift ways of knowing that are traditionally overlooked, if not actively suppressed, in academia. Namely, one committee member was able to offer the framework of the Medicine Wheel, a traditionally Native American cosmological framework, to assessment (LaFever, 2016). This framework included an explicitly Spiritual domain in which learning takes place, beyond the cognitive, physical, and affective domains often emphasized in academia (thanks, Bloom). This, to me, was exemplary of inclusive practice skills, allowing Indigenous frameworks to exist equitably, evenly, with Western frameworks. Because of this, many of OIED's programs that aren't seen as "educational" can now be viewed as taking place within a different domain of learning, a spiritual one where being compassionately present with one's self, building supportive relationships, and developing a sense of belonging are all perceived as valid learning goals.

This new assessment model, which will fully roll out in Spring 2020, seems only possible with the leadership of women who intimately understand exclusion (from the categories of Human, Black, Woman) and also deeply value the spiritual, as both Beverly and Stephanie do in the way they center human well-being. New possibilities seem to emerge like breaths of fresh air whenever Black women come together to lead. It's no secret that Black women have been the backbone of many societal transformations toward liberation from Sojourner Truth to Ella Baker and Fannie Lou Hamer to Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi. Research has credited this to the "peculiar perspective" (Johnson, 2009) Black women have developed as they've navigated existence at the intersection of racial and gender oppression. Maybe it's this peculiar perspective, a vision beyond sight, that allows Beverly to keep laughing and Stephanie to be intentional about creating space for the expertise and experiences of others to be heard and valued. But I also acknowledge that this is me looking from the outside, not knowing much about their stories and their reasons why.

Regardless, I'm honored to be able to sit at their table and learn from their examples because these examples speak to me of a deep, abiding love: "care, affection, recognition, respect, commitment, trust, and honest and open communication" (Dillard, 2016).