How I Came To The Work – Part 8: Living Awake

Nobody warned me that once I got deep within the work, I would never be the same again. There are times when it feels like a burden. There are times when I wish I could un-know what I know and there are times I wish I could un-see what I have seen. I wonder how much easier my life would be if I was still ignorant, still believed patriarchal narratives, and still was blind to the white supremacy that permeates our society.

Everything is complicated now. In Halloween, I see the racism in costume, in music I hear the appropriation of cultures, and in my cultural heroes, I hear microaggressions.

This shift is a sign of my privilege. Even though I am a person of color, I have a level of privilege that has allowed me to not be affected by many the systems of oppression in society.  I have the privilege to learn about the oppression of others, that many have lived.

In this journey I have realized that I have been ignorant of the trauma of people in my life. Knowing that there is unspoken trauma in the women that I care about in my life is difficult to process. I have come to know that my good intentions cannot excuse things I have done in my past. It is hard and painful to know that words that I said made others feel less than and left out, and even worse there were times when my silence left others feeling dehumanized.

It is difficult to find out that cultural heroes sinned greatly but it’s even harder realizing that friends and relatives that I once looked up to and respected are racist. Love can exist with this knowledge but it is not the easy love of illusions, but the hard love of knowing someone fully.

All of this knowledge when felt completely can be overwhelming, depressing, and petrifying. It’s hard to know what to do with all of this knowledge, and while it can feel validating to see all of this clearly, it can also be traumatizing. This is why self-care is such an essential part of this work.

If you enter this work, commit to the challenges, embrace the tears, and don’t give up you will find as President Obama said, you are one of John Lewis’ children. The great American tradition of activists live within you. You are embodying what it means to be patriotic by refusing to let sins of the past be hidden in the history written by the oppressors, and sins of the present be overshadowed by the narratives of the powerful.

Each time you face the oppression and pain of other people, you are validating their humanity, their experiences, and their value. Each time you elevate an oppressed voice, you are giving power to others, and each time you look at your past, sad that you didn’t do more, you are making yourself better for yourself, for your family, and for the community.

Knowing what I know and seeing what I’ve seen has made my life more difficult, and more complicated, but it has also made my life more meaningful, and more important.

Yes, there are times I wish I could go back to the time before, but like wishing I could be a child, again, it’s a fleeting thought.

This is is a life worth living.  

How I Came To The Work – Part 7: The Gatherings

I love going to diversity conferences, institutes, seminars, symposiums, and summit. There are a lot of different names for these gatherings. I’m talking about events where people who are interesting in doing work around diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) come together to learn, and share. Sometimes these events include hundreds of people and sometimes under fifty people. I’ve been to ones that were just for people of color, and other ones that included people who identified as white.

The make-up of the attendees depends on the goals of the event and the mission of the organization behind the events. I’ve been to gatherings that included only leaders in diversity work, and other ones that were just for teachers. I went to a seminar last summer that included people outside of education, which where I met two incredible people who worked for Planned Parenthood.

Some of these events have happened at schools, hotel ballrooms, and I recently did an institute online.

What do I love about these events?

What I learn
These are the spaces that I have the learned the most about issues around DEI. More than books, documentaries, articles, and podcast, it’s these spaces that have taught me about the true nature of America. It is these spaces that I have learned about privilege, the myth of meritocracy, white supremacy, how to see racism in every facet of our culture, the origins of racism, systems of oppression, false dichotomies, the patriarchy, the difference between gender and sex, toxic masculinity, racial identity development, white fragility, systemic racism, self-care, and more.

The Leaders
The facilitators, speakers, and leaders of these events are inspiring, incredible, and courageous. Dedicating your life to DEI is very difficult. Hearing these leaders speak, and working with them has given me so much hope for the future of our country. Their stories enrich my understanding of the human condition, their expertise create spaces where people can be venerable, proud, and caring, and their work is changing our society for the better. These people are a part of a proud tradition of advocates, researchers, and scholars who are fighting for the freedom of all that includes Frederick Douglas, Angela Davis, and Grace Lee Boggs.

The People
Around tables, during breaks, standing in line for food, and over meals I’ve met some wonderful people at these events. These are spaces when I’m often not the minority. Most of the time, there are more people of color in these spaces than white people, and my world view is validated by those I meet. Generally, people come to these events with kindness, a willingness to listen, and are really interested in what I have to say. Feeling alone in crowds is normal for me. I’ve often the one of the only Asian-Americans in a group, or one of the only men who wants to talk about destroying the patriarchy, However, at these events, I feel a sense of community and belonging. I’ve met smart, determined, proud, and courageous people all across America who are doing the work, and are not giving up. Knowing that they are out there, believing in me, as I believe in them and doing the work alongside me gives me strength, and hope.

I am very aware of the privilege I enjoy that has allowed me attend such wonderful events.  This is why it is so important for me to use the power that the events have given me to benefit my school community, myself, and my family.  I look forward to continuing to enter these spaces, and contribute as I receive and show up for others as they have shown up for me. 

How I Came To The Work – Part 6: The Position

One of the greatest gifts you can have in life is having someone who believes in you more than you believe in yourself. When someone tells you that they see potential in you, it can change your life. 

Two of these special people helped me along into diversity work.  

Initially, I didn’t see myself as a leader in diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) in my school. The election of 2016 pushed me into high gear, and I knew I had so much to learn. More than ever I was all-in, as I made DEI a central part of every choice I made as a teacher.  However, I didn’t myself as a DEI leader.

The other issue is that I had full plate. I had a young child at home, the job of  music department chair took a lot of my time, and I also had a full teaching load. At my school being a department chair doesn’t mean you have less classes to teach. I was doing enough for my school. I had my moments that I wished all I had to worry about at school was teaching. At the same time, I enjoyed being in leadership and having the power to really help other people.

My middle school head understood all of this, which is why he was very gentle in suggested that I think about being the DEI Chair. He wondered, if because I had done a great job as music department chair in the past couple years if some of that work could be shared with others in my department and I could focus on being a leader in a different way. I was surprised when he brought this up to me. Even though I knew that he had seen a lot of the curricular work around DEI, I didn’t realize that he saw greater potential in me to serve the community in another role. I told him I’d think about it.

I found out that I would be a DEI co-chair with another teacher that I respected greatly. The idea of collaborating with him got me really excited. I don’t remember exactly how Diana reacted when I brought this idea up to her. Knowing her and how incredibly supportive she has been of me, likely she thought it was a good idea as well, but she probably worried about the time commitment.

One thing I realized is that part of doing this job was getting acknowledgment for work that I was already doing. So yes, it was more work, but it wasn’t all new. It was moving along a journey I was already on, not a turn in another direction.

I applied for this position, which consisted of writing an essay, and this led an interview with the assistant principal. She had the biggest smile when I walked into her office.  As I talked about DEI, she kept saying “yes,” and nodding her head. She got more and more excited the more I talked. After not too long, she said that she knew that I would be wonderful in this position and she was so excited to have me as a DEI Co-Chair.

Every time we met from then on, she would tell me how great she thought I was doing.  In those words I heard, “prove me right, because I know I’m not wrong.” Her belief in me and the encouragement of the middle school head motivated me to dive deeper, do more, and keep in the work.

As much as they believed in me, that wasn’t enough. I had a lot to learn, and fortunate for me, I got to know the broader DEI community, and that opened up my eyes to seeing the world and myself in a whole different way.

Try to be that person that sees something in someone that they don't see in themselves.  It's the most motivating thing in my professional life, and I am forever grateful to those who took the time to tell me that they believed in me.

How I Came To The Work – Part 5: The Election

As the years passed, I slowly started getting more and more into diversity, equity, and inclusion work. I started doing more lessons and units that were directly focused on teaching about systems of oppression and social justice.

I kept a running list of ideas of projects and songs that I wanted to teach and figured I’d find time later to do. I knew that there was work to be done, but I didn’t feel a sense of urgency.

Because there was no way in my mind that Trump would win the election.

Hope combined with naivety and ignorance led me to believe that Trump would lose the presidential election. This is America. We don’t hire people who are openly racist, sexist, and misogynistic. People get fired for saying and doing the horrible things that Trump did during the election. No way Americans would vote for him. Well, even though he lost the popular vote enough Americans in the right districts, who were not hindered by voter suppression, voted for Trump and he did win.

In the days following the election, it started to all sink in. The expressed values of our country in popular mainstream culture were not shared by many people in the country. Even though a board might fire an executive for allegations of sexual misconduct, that doesn’t mean that ever person on the board actually thought that this person was worth losing over this issue, they were just making this move because they didn’t want to be held accountable for their chooses to the public. With voting being anonymous, and people felt free to vote for a morally reprehensible and incompetent candidate, and they did.

Along with these revelations other things started to come together in my brain. I started to see in our present issues I had learned about in our history. I started wondering about the pervasiveness of oppression of minority groups and stopped assuming that they were anomalies.

We had just elected a person who represented the worst of America. It was clear with his openly salvo of oppression, his Muslim ban that he was going to make America worse and make every effort to beat back the progress in our country. What was I waiting for?

In the days after the election, I sketched out plans for a presentation inspired by President Obama that had been on my mind for years. I took a question from a 5th grader about gender and developed it into a Women In Music unit and presentation. And I was determined that the curriculum that I would teach would no longer be dominated by white cis-gendered male composers and musicians.

I was, angry, and I felt let down by America, but doing this work, helped me feel productive, proud, and part of the solution. I was doing something, one lesson at a time, one student at a time, I was making a difference.

When I saw the email announcing that my school was adding Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Chairs as a position in my school, I didn’t really think it was for me. As I got deeper into the work, transforming my focus, and doing everything I could to make the future America one would reject Trump, I began to wonder.

How I Came To The Work - Part 1: Introduction

I’m new to the game.

I didn’t identify as a person of color until I was in my early 30s. I didn’t go to my first DEI event (conference, training, institute) until the summer of 2017, and it wasn’t until last year, that I didn't fully grasped the true depths of the savage inequities in the criminal justice system until…last year.

It took four different presentations before I understood the concept of privilege, and while the myth of meritocracy got demolished in my brain pretty quickly in one podcast, my understanding of true power of the patriarchy continues to evolve.

I am a proud anti-racist, anti-colonial, privilege-acknowledging, social justice-embracing, demolish-the-patriarchy-preaching, diversity practitioner. I see the racial, sexist nature of our society everywhere I go, and in everything I see. My work is interwoven deeply into who I am and it is impossible to have a relationship with me and not see how diversity, equity, and inclusion goes beyond my work to every facet of my life.

Like President Obama’s view of LGBTQ rights, I have evolved and continue to evolve. It has taken years of work, the patience of so many teachers, colleagues and friends, thousands of pages of books and articles, and hours upon hours of podcast and books on tape for me to get to where I am as a diversity practitioner. While I am proud of where I am, I know that there is so much work for me to do.

This work is will never end. There will always be another perceptive for me to experience, another concept to wrestle with, and more for me to learn. It’s a journey, and like a life well lived, the learning, the growth, the evolution will never end. That seem daunting, but for me exciting. At the core of DEI work is understanding myself better, and seeing the world for what it is, and in all of the darkness, and trauma, finding hope.

I’m going to spend the next couple Friday’s unpacking my journey with DEI, and how I got to where I am. In the whirlwind of all that has happened in the past couple weeks, I feel a need to reflect, honor those who have helped me along my way, and share with others what it means to be becoming.

As these posts help me better understanding my journey, I hope my story helps you find your own way into and through this work.

I came to this party late, but I was welcome in with open arms.  I'm glad you are here and wherever you are at in this work, I welcome you.  It's a journey that has changed my life, and if we join together in this work, we can change the world. 

Trayvon’s “American Skin (41 Shots)” by Bruce Springsteen

When Bruce Springsteen first performed “American Skin” he was widely criticized for performing a song about the shooting death of Amadou Diallo. On February 9th, 1999,Four police officers shot at him 41 times, (19 that actually hit Amadou) as he reached into his pocket to take out his wallet. The police offices were acquitted of any crimes as discussions of racial profiling and police brutality spread across America partially due to Springsteen bringing attention to this event.



Days after George Zimmerman was acquitted of in the shooting death of Trayvon Martin, Springsteen performed “American Skin,” dedicating it to Trayvon, “We’ll send this letter back home for justice for Trayvon Martin.”

While the deaths of Diallo and Martin are different in many ways "American Skin" remind us of the underlying reality for both of these men that as Springsteen sings “You can get killed for living in your American skin.”

As President Obama so eloquently reflected, there is a tension between the statistics about black males and our racist reactions.



More than ever we need to work to understand the context of what our different skins mean and how they define for each of us what it means to be American. Events in our culture stick to us differently. For me the Japanese internment camps during World War II are probably more forward in my thoughts about America than for other people, which has to do with the fact that I’m Asian.

Obama’s explanation of the context of people’s reactions is critical for us to consider because as much as we have one unified American experience, what sticks with us, what shapes our perspective has to do with how we form our identity as much as how society views us.

On one side we have outrage and disappointment that a country that seems so progressive has failed to bring justice. On the other side are arguments that Trayvon was a “punk,” that the justice system followed it’s own terms (which somehow makes this verdict okay), and that Zimmerman’s reactions were somehow justified.

We shamefully can’t even bring up gun control with this case. No police officer would have used their gun the way that Zimmerman did on Trayvon because of their training. This gross misuse of a gun puts into question the validity of having a hand gun as a self-defense tool, the training that must be required before owning a gun and the people in our society refuses to stand up against the gun companies and to each other to do what is right.

Summer weekends bring death to the streets of Chicago, mostly on the Southwest side of the city. It makes the local news but doesn’t make national headlines. I’m sure if one person was shot that looked like my wife, it would. “American Skin” will continue to echo as we struggle to deal with issues of racism in our society. 

There is this idea that we can't slide back to the racism of the past, that racial harmony is a trajectory that America will inevitably reach.  This assumption is dangerous.  Ignorance, scapegoating, racism and inequality are not things of the past.  We must not only celebrate the progress our country has made but also acknowledge that this progress came from very hard work that we need to continue.

Obama is right.  The younger generations are much better at being open and accepting than the older generations.  So it on us to not pass on the worst of ourselves and to let the younger generations challenge our assumptions and our views of the world.  We can do better, we must do better so that the American skin that each of us wear is not a curse but a blessing.