Dear Melanated

tamika l. butler
12 min readDec 31, 2019
Chilling at the Lake Arrowhead during the UCLA Lake Arrowhead Transportation Conference

Habari Gani?

Nia.

Today after a long day of travel it was great to center myself with my family and talking about what Nia, or purpose, means to us.

Joyous Kwanzaa

Our tradition of sitting around and talking about the Kwanzaa principle of the day has always been a great way to silence all the noise and focus on what’s important as we head into a new year.

I was feeling good about myself and thinking about setting goals related to my purpose that would benefit my community in the coming year. But of course, that’s a task for another day, so I decided to unwind before bed by doing some Twitter lurking…always a mistake. The first thing I see is that #ItsOkayToBeWhite is trending. Before I can even complete my eye roll, I decide Twitter isn’t where I should be unwinding. Because I like to go from bad to worse, I decided work emails and texts were where I should head next. Plus, one of my resolutions is to be better at responding to folks — if you text me, you know this is something I need to work on. Sorry!

As I dug through work stuff — I’ve been out on a break for weeks — I noticed another note from someone about the Lake Arrowhead Conference. I say another because after the conference there were tons of notes, conversations, and whispers about how a few of us queer folks and folks of color, especially the black folks, really ruined the experience for others. Then just a few weeks ago there was something about folks in important positions asking SCAG to no longer sponsor the conference because the equity talk of those same folks really took away from the usually great transportation conference.

So what happened? What did we do? Not important. Honestly, I found that 2019 was a year of transportation conferences where a new generation of transportation professionals started attending conferences in force. In particular, young women of color showed up and folks started getting offended because these conferences didn’t go as usual. All of a sudden there were more folks of color in attendance and we were saying things. We were harder to ignore or isolate to one panel on equity.

I spent a lot of this year trying to figure out how I could be a better support, friend, mentor, listener…everything really…to this next generation of folks of color in transportation who are just trying to find their way. Whether at a conference, in the office, or in life — it’s a struggle. I was recently told that a therapist said that to be a black woman in this country is to hurt every single day. I felt that. I feel that. Most days. Well honestly, every day. And that therapist didn’t even know the world of delicate white snowflakes that can often describe transportation spaces.

When you’re dealing with your own pain and seeing it in others as we all try to navigate systems, create change, and live our lives, it’s hard to figure out how to be that better support, friend, mentor, listener…everything.

There’s this group of us in a generation of emerging leaders. We’ve worked hard and are starting to be in the rooms and meetings with folks who have been bosses for a while. Some even see us as bosses. Looking up we see the bosses who have opened doors for us and are trying to change the status quo. Well at least some of them. Some love us and give us advice and look out for us. Others…they’re just annoyed that we’re here and taking our space. They want the status quo. They want things the way they have always been and we’re a threat to that. These people also love to give advice. Often, it’s about how they want to support us, but first just want to help us think about how to change our approach or tone or just change. They usually want to help us understand that our outrage or desire to change things is based in misunderstanding or lack of patience. I want to be clear, there was a lot of support and love after the Arrowhead Conference — but there was also a lot of advice from those folks who just wanted the queer folks and folks of color, especially the black folks to just show up differently, be different, be like everyone else. They wanted us to sit quietly and take whatever was thrown our way.

That isn’t easy for me. I’m not sure that’s really my purpose. To just sit there? Quietly? Say nothing? Do nothing? I’m horrible at it. But I’ve spent a lot of this year thinking that maybe I should get better at it. That I should just put my head down and not make waves. I’ve been taking in the advice and trying to figure out how to be less. Less loud. Less offensive. Less me, I guess. In fact, I’ve been trying to figure out if being a better support, friend, mentor, listener…everything…to this next generation meant helping them be less as well. In fact, I’ve probably had situations in the last year where I’ve said something like that to someone. I started thinking about all the advice I have gotten about being less me. Arrowhead really brought a lot of that up for me. In order to get it out, I wrote this letter below a little after the conference.

I put it away and only shared it once with a few people. My friend Brittany Ballard is one of the most creative and talented artists I know. She co-created Unsent and encourages folks to write things they don’t send and then share them at open mics as a release. I did this at a small open mic and then buried it away. I thought, perfect. No need to send. Getting it out helped me get past a lot of the pain and frustration that Arrowhead brought up.

But then when I opened work stuff today and saw another Arrowhead message from someone who just wanted to share some advice for me as I head into the new year. You know, about growing as a professional and being less…me. I found that unsent letter and decided to send it. To who? I’m not sure, but if this resonates for you, then it’s for you.

It’s a new year coming and I really don’t want to deal with the Arrowhead Conference anymore.

Beautiful Lake Arrowhead

Honestly, I’m surprised people got so in their feelings. People were offended. So thank you for those of you trying to help me understand why. I hear the advice on how to do things differently in the future. Can’t promise I will. But for all the young folks of color who are thinking about how to go into the new year and achieve their purpose while being less…let me share some advice:

Dear Melanated, Educated, and Opinionated Girl:

Hey, it’s me. The melanated, educated, and opinionated girl that has a few more years in than you. I know this whole professional thing is a struggle. Doesn’t matter if it’s corporate, academic, nonprofit, government…you name it, this shit is hard. I know, I know, this is just the means to your end of running your own shit one day. But then life and loans and taking care of others who depend on you and debt and babies happened. You want to know how I’ve made it this far? A few floors up? With the fancy title? How I did it while being melanated, educated, and opinionated?

Well, I got some good advice. The problem is most of that advice came from white people behaving badly. It left scars. It caused trauma. So as a community service to you, I thought I would go ahead and give you some of that advice sista to sista. It’s just us here…no need to say the “er”…

On being Melanated…

Don’t be. Well do, because you are. You can’t change that. Plus, if you weren’t you wouldn’t have this job…that’s what they make us believe, right?

Soooooooooo since that’s not really an option, here are a few things to remember:

  • Don’t remind people you aren’t white. It really fucking throws them off. One day you’re sitting in your cubicle. Making puns. Eating your good cheese from the farmer’s market. Thinking about the rock climbing class you’re going to take later and someone comments on how hard it is to sweat and have to wash their hair every single day. You mention you don’t wash your hair every day or shit, that it’s not really your hair…minds blown. That makes people really uncomfortable. Don’t do that.
  • Don’t be complex and have a full range of emotions. We’re melanated. We are here to make them laugh. Help them understand hip music. Comment on if their fashion is dope. Make sure they can say they have diverse friends. Introduce them to interesting foods. We are funny. We are resilient. We don’t get sad. We don’t get bothered. We are not full complex people. Having a bad day? Need to cry? Need to be anything other than super human and inspiring….don’t do that.
  • Don’t mention that you don’t get sunburned and age really well. This really really really upsets them. Do you know how much money they spend to age less gracefully than we just do naturally? Do you know how much vacations stress them out if they come back burnt? Do not mention the ease by which these things don’t concern us. Also, don’t mention that lotion of any sort will help. They cannot figure out lotion and ash is a foreign concept. And more than anything, never tell them how old you really are or your kids really are. (First they’ll think you were a teen mom whether or not that’s true. They’ll make it a bad thing even though it isn’t.) Then they’ll bring it up constantly and make you feel shitty because they are insecure. I forgot, making them insecure…don’t do that.
  • Don’t remind people that racism still exists. You’re out with friends from work. Everyone is getting a little tipsy. You got shit to do tomorrow so you volunteer to drive home. (Plus you don’t trust these white people so you definitely shouldn’t get too lit.) You’re driving perfectly to your last co-worker’s spot and get pulled over. You weren’t doing anything wrong. You follow the rules, put your hands on the wheel where the officer can see them, be polite, don’t argue. Your co-worker is livid. This is such an inconvenience. They start yelling at the police officer. When you ask them to calm down, they ask why you’re being such a pussy…DO NOT TELL THEM IT’S BECAUSE YOU MIGHT DIE. That really kills the buzz. Don’t do that.

On being Educated…

  • Don’t be. Well do, because if not people won’t think the skills you’ve gained from just being black in America and life and other jobs are enough. Plus, if you didn’t have that degree, you couldn’t do this job…at least that’s what they want you to believe.
  • Don’t remind people you went to a great school and graduated at the top of your class. Look, you are here to be their inspiration. To be the kid from the ghetto who went to community college, got into a good mentorship program where a white person did you a favor and you got this chance. Shoooot, they want to be the white person who did you a favor and got you this chance. You probably did better in school than them. Could have gotten in without having to play sports (don’t tell them that), you’re extremely educated and street smart. That’s intimidating and feels like a threat. Want them to know you have some or even worse, the same, pedigree, don’t do that.
  • Don’t remind people that you’re actually one of the leading experts in your field and that’s why you got this job. You are the diversity hire. That’s safe. That means you’ll never get ahead. That means you have nothing to offer. They get to teach you how to research, write, and publish things. You get taken seriously because they decide to, not because you have the intellectual chops to back up all that you’re saying. You’re just faking it. Someone else told you all the things you know. You’re lucky to be here. Knowing you are better and smarter than them at the thing because you invented the way people do the thing…not cool. Don’t do that.
  • Don’t remind people that you watch more than sports, Love and Hip Hop and Basketball Wives. They love talking to you about that shit. What do you mean you spent last night watching a documentary about the mating habits of frogs in the Amazon? What do you mean you read a book about…who the fuck cares…you read a book?! Don’t do that shit. A black person with a good idea AND an education is a dangerous thing. Don’t do that.

On being Opinionated…

  • Don’t have opinions. This one is simple. Just don’t do that shit. White people invited you, hired you, or are talking to you to be an exotic face and add to their diversity. Not to actually have an opinion. The days of being enslaved might be over, but please believe that having independent thought is still a threat to them. You may be wearing a suit and sitting in an office chair, but the second you have an opinion they feel like you aren’t in your place. They’d rather you be out of the office, in the field, without an opinion. You may not feel like a nigger, but they will put you back there in a second. At some point someone will turn to you, point and say…well what do you think? You’re going to want to answer honestly and give your opinion. Don’t do that.

Okay, that’s it. That’s my advice.

Wait, what?!?! You’re queer too. Damn, you’re really screwed. That’s another letter. Short version, just use pronouns they understand. They’ll say it’s about grammar, it’s about discomfort. Don’t use the bathroom at work. It’s better for everyone. People are scared. When people ask about your partner and assume their gender or that you want kids or that you could bring them to the office party and be as grossly affectionate as the straight people…just play along. Actually, just be single. Actually, like I said, it’s another letter. You’re already melanated and a woman Sista, are you trying to fail? Being queer. On top of all of that? Don’t do that.

Okay, now that’s it. Feel better? Sounds so much better coming from me than Tom Smith, Whitey McWhiteson, right?

Crazy thing is, doesn’t feel better for me. I wrote this letter and I planned to hit send. I planned to spare you from all the trauma and pain and hurt I’ve encountered. I planned to hit send so you would never have to experience the pain of getting to a conference and realizing that people wanted you there to sit and look diverse, but not actually talk. I planned to hit send because I never wanted you to have to experience the pain of someone saying they weren’t firing you, but they know you aren’t happy so they’re supporting you as you leave. I planned to hit send because I thought that by paying it forward, I’d feel better and you’d feel better. But instead all I’ve done is realize I can’t hit send.

White leadership isn’t just white people. To succeed I feel like I’m losing myself. I want to be the unapologetic melanated, educated and opinionated girl I used to be. I want to be carefree. I don’t want to laugh at puns or rock climb. I do like farmer’s markets, so I want to keep doing that shit. The cheese is good. I want to go out with work friends and let go and relax. I want to be proud of my degree and hang that shit in my office. I want to be okay to have bad days. I want to be the expert that I am. I want to talk about sports and Love and Hip Hop. But I also want to talk about the super nerdy academic article I just read. Shit, I want to email around the super nerdy academic article I just wrote. More than anything, I want to have opinion. My opinion matters. My opinion is good. Frankly, one black girl with a good idea should be enough. I want to just be me.

Unapologetically.

You know what, new advice. Don’t let people convince you that to succeed you need to be less of yourself. Don’t let them convince you that you are less than them. People are going to try to convince you that you are so privileged to be here. That it’s because of them you’re here. We are privileged. We are. We’re making it and blah blah blah. But the best piece of advice I can give is to always remember, the biggest privilege you’ll ever have is knowing that they need you more than you need them. It’s knowing your self-worth. You’re worth it. Always. Never forget that. Your skin, your degrees, your opinions scare people. But I love it. Know your worth, sis. You deserve this. You got this.

Sent.

--

--

tamika l. butler

tamika is a land use, equity, & social and racial justice advocate. She's an Urban Planning PhD student at UCLA & the Principal at tamika l. butler consulting