Nikole Hannah-Jones: A Symbol of Every Black Woman’s Journey

Nikole Hannah-Jones:

A Symbol of Every Black Woman’s Journey

I first met Nikole Hannah-Jones on May 7, 2019, at an event hosted by Bryan Stevenson of the Equal Justice Initiative (EJI) entitled, The Roots of Educational Inequality: A Conversation Between Bryan Stevenson and Nikole Hannah-Jones. Like all EJI experiences, it was informative, inspiring, and truth centered. One of my takeaways from that night was Hannah-Jones’ articulation of education in the context of trauma.

While I had long accepted trauma as being deeply rooted and akin to the lingering impacts of chattel slavery and structural racism in America, the idea of trauma being infused by the methods in which many of us were educated had somehow evaded me. As she engaged in this dialogue with Mr. Stevenson, I profoundly identified with every word she spoke. I left that evening thinking more deeply about what it means to have a trauma-informed approach to nearly everything in my life and world, both personally and professionally. I most immediately began to think about the many ways I had experienced trauma in the context of race and gender. I was even better able to process what I had defined as “traumatizing experiences” in spaces I would have never imagined.

I recall a time when I served as CEO of a multi-million-dollar business in a well-known metropolitan city. Most of my staff were white. My finance team, which happened to be all white men, once accompanied me to a meeting with the CEO of a CPA firm I was considering for expanded accounting needs. Throughout the entire meeting, that CEO—also a white male—consistently looked at my white male staff members whenever he spoke. Outside of our initial, cordial greeting, it was as if I were not even in the room. It was so noticeable that my staff eventually pointed him back to me as the decision maker. I would have never said anything to my staff about it after the meeting, but it was obvious that they were equally impacted and embarrassed by the CEO’s behavior. We did not hire that firm, for obvious reasons, but I distinctly recall how that experience made me feel, in the context of both race and gender. Today, I have more stories like that than I care to recall. Regardless of how many such experiences one may have, the lingering implications remain. Trauma is painful.

Prior to that EJI evening, I had not given much thought to the countless hours and private tears I’d shared in such contexts, while I often struggled to make sense of such experiences. Like many Black women I know, we tend to process our struggles internally, while projecting outward strength at all costs. However, Hannah-Jones’ perspectives literally liberated me that night. I walked away with a better understanding of the ways that even internalized oppression within our own communities of color can result, often unintentionally, in forms of trauma and abuse. She clarified the meaning of a saying that, by now, we have all likely heard many times over: “Hurt people hurt people.”

Hannah-Jones pushed me into a reframing that moved me into a place of empathy and healing versus apathy and agony. Obviously, after such a moving experience, I began to follow her work. Soon after that, The 1619 Project was launched. As a result, the world became aware of who she was and, for me, it was spectacular. Yet, in true-to-form fashion, it wasn’t long before dissenters surfaced, showing, once again, that ours is a country that is deeply committed to untrue narratives and a whitewashing of American history that many are simply unwilling to relinquish.

As I followed the recent scenario Hannah-Jones endured during her tenure dispute at the University of North Carolina (UNC), it all felt familiar. I thought most immediately about the predominantly Black child care providers on whose behalf we advocate in our work at Alabama Institute for Social Justice (AISJ). These women provide one of the most critical services to the state, and yet they are grossly undervalued. In order to illuminate and recognize their value, we must do a bit of hell-raising to lift up their contributions, stories, and experiences, and demonstrate a worth that is clearly unquestionable. This was proven during the pandemic. Many people were unable to continue going to work because child care was unavailable. I thought about how, as Black women, so much is built sacrificially off our backs, only to be truly valued when others can benefit from our efforts through exploitation, or there is a sort of forced reckoning, for whatever the reason.

It is the incessant story of Black people, in general; but most especially, in my experience, that of Black women. From slavery to the present day, Black women have been the backbone of this country. Their creativity, persistence, and ability to “make a way when there is no way” have changed the world for the better, time and time again. But, in this moment, we are in a new day. As Black women, we are in a place and time where we are no longer desirous of acceptance from the status quo. Perhaps one of the most exhilarating moments during Hannah-Jones’ UNC experience was how she graced them with a “Thanks, but no thanks.” It so represented the level of awareness we are walking in today, one that does not seek to assimilate, but to establish. I, personally, loved everything about the way she handled the entire situation. Her actions reflected something I strongly believe: stay focused and do not be distracted by naysayers and the ill-informed opinions of others.

Hannah-Jones said several times throughout this process that the issue was bigger than she, and it is. It is about how America is struggling to reckon with what is becoming inevitable -- that is, truth overriding lies. Dr. Martin L. King said it best: “No lie can live forever.” America’s lies are coming to an end. And, with every spoken and written word, with monuments that glorify the lies being torn down, and inspirational memorials being erected by people like Bryan Stevenson, truth is being brought to the light. And each of us, in our own ways, great and small, are establishing a new reality. In the case of Hannah-Jones, that reality includes an entire new department at Howard University, an historically Black college/university (HBCU), which will result in the creation and development of many more such truth-tellers.

And, finally, I firmly believe that the most important statement Hannah-Jones made was that it is not our job to reform people. Today, in the 21^st century, there are far more than enough anti-racist writings, speeches, webinars, trainings, people, platforms, and organizations such that, if one is serious about being anti-racist (or anti-sexist), the way forward is clear and the information is readily available. But the key is that one must have a willing heart and a mind prepared to listen and learn. These are -- to speak in collegiate terms -- prerequisites. Once those requirements are met, then it’s up to individuals, organizations, and institutions to do the transformational work of becoming.

As I heard many times growing up in the Black church, “You got to meet Jesus for yourself!” YOU are the only person who can take your journey towards righteousness. And I can’t think of anything more righteous than abandoning racist and sexist practices.

It is the dawning of a new day, where truth reigns supreme and humanity is center stage. AISJ congratulates Nikole Hannah-Jones.