Black Lives Matter
In this space, you will find ruminations and reflections from black women on the PDXWIT team. We've also provided a list of vetted organizations that are doing critical work fighting to address systemic racism and violence towards black bodies.
SYMONE SPARROW, BOARD MEMBER
Now more than ever, it is clear that we need to come together to battle something that has plagued our country since its “founding:” racism. As a Black woman who has spent her entire life in Oregon, it is numbing to have conversations repeatedly about how institutional racism and oppression has shaped the lives of myself, friends, family, and the entire Black community. Those conversations have definitely been amplified these past few weeks. My heart continues to ache not only for those we have lost, but for those of us we will lose in the future. Living while black in this country means to live in fear of what will happen when we encounter police officers or racist individuals claiming to uphold the constitution. This fear drives me to continue these conversations, as difficult and painful as they may be, so we can ALL (yes all, including Black people) live without fear of being seen as a threat simply because of the color of our skin. As a black woman, I feel it is my duty to have these conversations, and I invite all of our allies, — our Hispanic, native, Asian, everybody, not just white allies — to also have conversations about what we can all do to create a world that is truly safe, fair, and accepting of all. #BlackLivesMatter
OCHUKO AKPOVBOVBO, EVENTS TEAM
The last month has been a lot, and while I always thought something like this would make me feel so empowered and happy — and I do feel all those things — what I feel mostly is exhaustion. I can't go to protests because if I'm caught, I would lose my visa. I feel incredibly guilty about that and how I should be doing more, while at the same time not knowing what to do.
And then I'm honestly scared to feel hopeful that this would bring any lasting change. I'm scared that even the well-meaning white people will get too uncomfortable and cease doing the work. And then I'm sad and frustrated that at the end of the day, it all comes down to how other people feel. That my quality of life would depend on how good white people decide to be (people who aren’t historically good in that sense). So I am happy, but exhausted, and hopeful, but cautious...
CORETTA KNIGHT, MARKETING TEAM
This has been such an emotional rollercoaster for me. Growing up in a suburb of the Twin Cities (Minneapolis-St. Paul) was not a cake-walk; my siblings and I referred to the area as “the terror dome.” My family had gone to see a movie with a predominantly black cast. We were the only people in the theatre when a group of white teenagers sat in the row directly behind us. They called us n-----. One of them stole my car keys. As soon as I was old enough to do so, I left Minnesota and moved south. When asked by friends and family when I would be back, I had always told them that I was “allergic to Minnesota.” The few times that I did return to visit, I was pulled over for going 5 miles over the speed limit. Always by the same officer, at the same intersection, 4 separate times.
The year I turned 40 a young black man was shot, in his car, in front of his family. He was the cousin of a friend I went to high school with. I was visiting my mother’s family in Antigua at the time and upon realizing that I was American, many islanders asked “Why don’t Black people fight back?”
This year another black man was murdered, by police, in a city that promotes inclusivity, but is in reality the second most racist state in this nation, with the first being Wisconsin. I have a 24-year-old son that lives in one and works in the other. I listened to George call for his mother and my heart broke. My heart breaks every time I think about it. My adult son is marching with other protesters in a city that hates the core of who he is. Suffice it to say my heart has relocated to my throat as I imagine my son calling for me in his final moments.
A few short years ago, the #MeToo movement launched into full swing. As a woman in the field of technology, I have felt the misogyny on far too many occasions. And just as we are getting into a rhythm of taking back our power, I am being launched into another battle for my civil rights. I am tired. Tired of fighting to prove that I deserve to exist. That I have the RIGHT to exist. Tired of worrying about what kind of world my children have inherited.
To my non BIPOC allies: thank you for standing with us. Thank you for being an advocate. Please know that I really love and appreciate all of you, but I need to warn you: I am going to say things that sting. I know that it is not you specifically that I am mad at. Please don’t respond with “But I don’t…”. I know; I still love you. I just cannot spare the energy to love on you right now.
RIHANA MUNGIN, BOARD MEMBER
When I watched the murder of George Floyd I immediately lost hope. How was it possible we could watch a man slowly die at the hands of law enforcement over $20? How could I feel safe in a country knowing this was a way that many Black lives have ended? How do I manage the fear I have for the safety of my black brother, my black father, my black relatives, and my black friends for trying to exist in the world?
I gave myself the space to manage my mental health and to grieve in private. To try to find the right way for me to enact meaningful change. I intended to heal on my own, but I felt the overwhelming energy of the Black Lives Matter movement. I felt change was imminent when the BLM protests were marching through the rural town of St. Helens, Oregon. I went to high school in St. Helens 10 years ago, and I faced incredible amounts of racism. But now, 700 people decided to march for Black lives.
I was able to rely on the momentum of the BLM movement and the support from my friends and allies to understand where to place my power in order to enact change. On the days I have the capacity I will join the protests. I will use my skills as an engineer and researcher to combat misinformation regarding systemic oppression. I will continue to make space in the tech industry for Black people. I will continue to support Black people in the tech industry. I will continue to use my position on the board of PDXWIT to establish an equitable tech industry.
There is power in our community. There is power in our voices. There is power in this movement. #BlackLivesMatter.
CHLOE ELLIOT, BLOG TEAM PROGRAM MANAGER
I have to say that there is always a high level of stress involved with being a black woman in the world: it’s like a wound I constantly have to tend to, one that never quite heals. You get better and better attending to this wound while still functioning in the world. But sometimes events happen which blow that wound wide open and the pain becomes visible. This is one of those times. I go to Zoom meeting after Zoom meeting, hair done, smile on, focus on, but inside... I am totally destroyed. I’m going to have to build myself up brick by brick, again. Each time I do this work, I get stronger and stronger. So I have that to look forward to.
MABANA BAMBA, COMMUNITY DEVELOPMENT COORDINATOR
For many years I heard that the U.S. would need to come to terms with its past and history, especially if it wants to move into the future. Yet despite black and brown people demanding acknowledgment and honesty about our experiences, we are oftentimes gaslighted, told to get over it, or that we should be happy about what we have now.
George Floyd’s murder (and others) that happened in the span of a few months ripped the bandage that was covering this country’s scars. The bandage wasn’t working; we need a different solution. George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Atatiana Jefferson (and so many others) died at the hands of the system that was meant to protect them.
We are in a time where sitting on the sidelines and watching is not going to work. We need to know who is with us or against our progress. At the moment I am hopeful. Since moving to this country 26 years ago, I've never seen and experienced anything like what is currently happening. I know that it is years and years of pain. I can only hope that the momentum stays because this time we need some major reforms.
JOY FOWLER, COMMUNITY AMBASSADOR
These last few weeks have been emotional, to say the least! And as a person that does DEI work for a living, I’ve had to figure out how to continue to move the work, recognizing I’m also hurting. Hurting for my Black men and boys, hurting for my people and hurting for our country. I have probably taken an unorthodox approach to how I choose to move forward, which is through conversation. I get we want white people to read articles, books and watch movies, but conversation allows for something different to happen. It allows for a different level of understanding, a different interaction and in hopes a different outcome.
So let’s have those difficult conversations; let’s be ok with agreeing to disagree, and let’s be comfortable being uncomfortable. That takes a bit of boldness mixed with a little bravery. And to those of you who say you are or want to be allies, and want to demonstrate you are a leader in this space, conversation is your how! Talk to those who do not understand why we are outraged, talk to those who don’t understand Black Lives Matter and talk to those that say they are color blind or “don’t see color.” I have chosen conversation as my method to evoke change. What will you do?