-By Amy Taylor, Social Work/Music Major

Humans are wired for belonging. We crave connection, shared purpose, and safety within groups. But not every group that promises community delivers it. Some take that longing and twist it into control. It often happens slowly, without people inside the group noticing. Nobody is immune to these organizations because they prey on people who are going through any sort of life change or who feel alone. As a college student, being away from family and friends for the first time can make one vulnerable to groups that offer “instant community.” College is a time when many students are rebuilding their sense of belonging from scratch, which makes it both exciting and vulnerable terrain.

Born Into Control

I learned about community and control during my earliest years, primarily through what community was not. I was born into a family of eight kids, the third-born and oldest girl. For the first 20 years of my life, my parents raised my siblings and me in a high-control organization (HCO). I knew nothing about a healthy community because the HCO dictated where we went to church, what type of education we received or did not, what we wore, what we did with our time and money, and who we would associate with. 

Identity and Expression

High-control organizations prescribe identities to their members, leaving little room for self-expression or discovery. As a child, I was forced to wear clothes I hated, such as long skirts (never pants) that swept the floor in length. My parents made sure that I was painfully modest, wearing baggy shirts that covered any indication that I was a woman, including my collarbone. At the large HCO conferences my family frequented, we had to wear white tops and long navy skirts. The message to me as a woman was clear: ‘cover up, sit down, shut up.’ I am thrilled to say that I overthrew their control, and today I enjoy putting outfits together that express who I am. I dress in vibrant colors and patterns, and even sport blue hair. These little things express my freedom as an individual; they bring me joy and, in a way, make up for lost time. I learned, through contrast, that true community embraces individual expression and differences. In a good community, you can be yourself, because conformity isn’t a value or a virtue.

Leadership and Power

In a healthy community, leadership styles are transparent, service-oriented, and accountable. High control organizations are authoritarian, hierarchical, and unquestionable. The leader of our HCO was not a musician, but he would put families on a pedestal if they were. They were treated with more respect and admiration than other members of the organization. Until they slipped up, of course, if one member of the family committed some faux pas, they were publicly shamed, shunned, and/or banished from the graces of the HCO. To this day, I don’t enjoy being placed on a pedestal for any reason, especially music. While I believe that music is a gift to be shared, I refuse to believe that I am ‘special’ because I’m a musician.

Information and Education

Access to information is, undeniably, a fundamental human right. In a healthy community, that right is expressed through open communication and transparency as well as access to all information. This was not my experience growing up in a high-control organization. All children were restricted to be “homeschooled” for all 12 grades and even beyond. I put the word homeschooled in quotation marks to avoid confusion. I did not receive a proper education. 

My days were spent absorbing propaganda released by the high-control organization. This propaganda was designed to distort our thinking by twisting history, science, or any other “school” subject into wild and wrong teachings for us to assimilate into our lives. When I wasn’t busy poring over propaganda, I was taught to read, write, and perform simple arithmetic. That’s all. When it came time for me to learn algebra, I didn’t understand what the book was telling me, and I went to my mother and asked to be placed in tutoring. Her response aligned with the HCO’s teaching; she ripped the book out of my hands and said, “One day you are going to be a wife and a mother; you don’t need to learn algebra.” At the age of thirty, I enrolled in community college, received some tutoring, and crushed four semesters of algebra, a fact that still makes me proud today. 

My mother’s censorship reached into what we read as well as what we watched. Each book that entered our house had to be approved by both my parents and the high-control organization. Once, I was given a Molly American Girl Doll book. My parents declared it evil and threw it out the day I got it. Most books I wanted to read got thrown out. We were, instead, encouraged to read about Christian martyrs, all of them coated with the subtextual suggestion that I would perhaps one day face the same fate. While I hope most parents would protect their young children from witnessing violence in movies, my parents were obsessed with it. I was banned from watching Disney movies (I saw my first one at the age of 21), but I was encouraged to watch Christians being burned at the stake (because that might be me one day). My earliest memory of films is watching a movie about Dutch nazi resistor Corrie ten Boom and her time in a concentration camp – incredibly violent, and totally inappropriate for a six-year-old. Instead of having access to age-appropriate material for learning and growing, I was being inundated with frightening messages about what my future would hold. Fear is the glue that holds high-control organizations together.

In a high-control organization, information is controlled, restricted, or distorted in some way. It might not look exactly like my story. Still, censorship and the fear of information are a dark road meant to keep people ingesting pre-selected information while discouraging critical thinking.

Freedom of Thought

Freedom of thought is essential to healthy communities; these communities encourage questioning, critical thinking, and dialogue. In a high-control organization, doubt, dissent, or independent thinking is discouraged and even punished. Thinking for myself was considered dangerous because groupthink was the only acceptable way to exist in the high-control organization. As a Christian, I was heavily shamed for asking questions and threatened with ostracism from my church and the HCO. 

Leaving the Trap

That being said, my diaries were my place of refuge. I wrote endless questions in there, and I compared what I was experiencing in my family to other families or individuals I encountered. I felt safe writing in these diaries because no one ever read them. I was able to think critically about all my experiences, and even at the tender age of ten, I was aware that something in my little world wasn’t quite right. 

Often, people ask me, “How did you get out?” The answer starts with those diaries and a kids’ radio program that depicted children who liked being near their parents (shocker) because their parents were kind to them. I was afraid of my parents. To me, these programs were a stark contrast to the way I was being raised, and I started journaling, ‘Do I deserve to be treated better?’ Eventually, I came to the conclusion that my parents were never going to care for, protect, or provide for me the way I needed. When two of my brothers planned to move out, I moved out with them. 

Building True Community

The ramifications of leaving both the family and the high-control organization were daunting. I was threatened with excommunication, and while that was painful, it no longer felt like annihilation because I was ready to start creating a community of my own. Eventually, I learned through trial and error that the best communities are the ones you forge on your own, not pre-packaged ones that offer instant friendships, pre-made activities, and, eventually, a boatload of hidden rules and restrictions. Today my community is thriving. I have friends and family who are close to me; we stay in regular contact, and together we support each other through all of life’s ups and downs. I am open and friendly with many people, but I have a close circle of friends who are my ride-or-die. I’m thrilled that that circle of friends does not have a leader lording themselves over us. It feels good to be free.

What I’ve noticed about belonging and inclusion is that while high-control organizations accept people conditionally based on conformity and a twisted sense of loyalty, healthy communities base them on empathy, diversity, inclusion, and respect. Today, I get to choose the people in my circle. We laugh, cry, and grow together. There is no hierarchy, no hidden rules, no fear. Just connection. That’s what community should be.

Coming and Going

So if high-control organizations are so awful, why do people join? Answer? They don’t. No one wakes up one day and says, “I wanna join a cult” or “I want someone else to prescribe my identity” or “I want some leader to dictate everything I do.” People don’t willingly or naturally give up their freedoms. There are well-defined psychological, physical, emotional, and social manipulations that lure people into these organizations. In the beginning, it’s all very exciting because we think we’ve found our tribe.  Only time reveals the trap: HCOs want to use you and discard you. When it comes to exits and boundaries, an HCO will leave you feeling discouraged, shamed, or punished. Sometimes, the threat of losing everyone in the group is a powerful manipulation to make you stay. However, healthy groups allow people to leave freely without stigma or threats.

What About You?

College is often a time of transition, self-discovery, and searching for belonging. You might meet groups that promise friendship, meaning, grandiose purpose, and “instant community,” but it’s important to pause and think critically. Healthy communities celebrate your individuality, encourage your questions, and let you come and go freely. High-control organizations, on the other hand, disguise control as care and conformity as commitment. Before giving away your trust, ask yourself: Can I be fully myself here? Can I speak up, disagree, or walk away without fear or shame? If the answer is no, then it’s not a tribe, it’s a trap. You deserve relationships and spaces where your freedom, curiosity, and identity are safe. True community doesn’t require you to shrink, it helps you grow. In the end, the difference between a tribe and a trap is freedom – the freedom to think, to question, to express, and to leave. True community doesn’t demand your loyalty; it earns your trust and your love.

If you are caught up in a high-control organization, remember there is hope, help, and resources on the other side. There are many people (including me) waiting to support and encourage you on your journey to find a healthy community. Leaving is hard; it’s easy to feel really alone, especially if your family or close friends stay in the HCO. But I’d encourage you to remember that your journey is just starting. The world is full of many people waiting to connect with you. Get some support, tell your story, and stay free.

Resources

International Cultic Studies Association https://www.icsahome.com/

Freedom of Mind Resource Center (founded by Steven Hassan, cult expert and former member of the Moonies)

 freedomofmind.com

The Open Minds Foundation

openmindsfoundation.org

Focuses on education and awareness about undue influence, manipulation, and coercive control.

By Ash Acuña

When I first joined the team at the Women’s Center, one of the very first things we covered were Brave Space guidelines. The three core tenets of Brave Spaces—challenge yourself, respect others, cultivate community—invite curiosity, learning, and safety to improve. Brave Spaces, at times, feel like a replacement for what educational spaces are supposed to represent. Growing up in a time of social media, it feels like everything is at risk of being recorded and put on the internet for others to dissect. Having Brave Spaces reminds me that real life is often not like that—and yet, the anxiety carries over.

I find it odd that my peers will often soften their opinions in class. Classrooms should be a place for learning, but I have heard classmates say, “I don’t want to get canceled for this,” far too many times (and on relatively cold takes, too). They share their thoughts with hesitancy, putting literal disclaimers out ahead of their speech, afraid they will be ostracized for participating in a discussion that is intended for all of us to learn from. Rather than be wrong and grow from it, we live in an age where being wrong in the wrong place can send a hurricane of hate your way.

I feel the same anxiety my classmates do. I see the same people they do get canceled on Twitter and fear my words could also be virally twisted to the point that nobody will listen when I try to defend myself. My own fears stem from the physical world; in 2020, stuck in quarantine with my family, I was verbally attacked by loved ones for what was perceived to be performative activism (rather than burnout and the personal trauma I was sorting out). Unable to defend myself, isolated from a support system, it felt like one wrong move would send me straight to hell. If I didn’t act the exact right way, or didn’t say the exact right thing, then I was a performer, a bad person, a liar who cared more for themself than for the people who they claimed to want to help.

I know I was not the only one who experienced this kind of anxiety; many of my friends stayed silent for fear of saying the wrong thing and getting blasted on Facebook or Instagram stories. I watched as people who seemed to be making honest efforts to improve got dragged for posting about their learning. I have found myself to be in the position of a crusader, having shamed a past partner for not voting when they were able (shaming someone is different than sharing different values; voting was, and is, important to me, but it was not to my partner. Rather than understand that, I tried to coerce—shame—them into believing what I wanted them to). Even though situations are often more nuanced than they appear to be, nuance is not, it seems, easily translated or understood in mob thinking. The social pressure to think like everyone else, at risk of ending up on the side of the attacked, is great enough to cause an emotional spiral.

What I know now is that shame does not work to create change. It is a spiteful, coercive tactic to manipulate people into doing or believing what you want them to. It also does not leave room for learning. Rather than understand why what we did or said was wrong, when we are shamed, we fixate on how to avoid being rejected by our community. Cancel culture necessitates that we publicly shame others into believing they were wrong, but it does not actually teach the wrong-doer how to change their behavior. Cancel culture is operating under the name of “accountability” when it is in reality just a substitute for public shaming. Shame, as Brené Brown puts it, is the feeling that something is wrong with ourselves. Remorse, on the other hand, is understanding the harm our actions have caused.

Cancel culture is often justified by suggesting that the person being canceled should know, or is old enough to know, better. But how do we judge that, without knowing all that a person has experienced? Knowledge is not inherent; we all learn it from someone or something. With my personal experience of having grown up in a highly conservative area, I have seen how the echo chamber of the community you live in is one that could very easily never challenge your beliefs. Let us not forget that higher education is a privilege; even publicly available literature is often inaccessible to those not familiar with academic jargon.

We cannot cultivate community when we are looking for reasons to oust people from it. We are not respecting others when we don’t give them the benefit of the doubt. We cannot challenge ourselves when we don’t feel safe enough to do so.

People are wrong. Frequently. What matters isn’t that we are wrong, it is how we handle it. It is impossible to know everything, especially when the world changes so quickly. A community that will guide us and continue to treat us as humans when we are led astray is the best way to combat ignorance. It helps no one to launch into an immediate attack, throwing inflammatory labels onto someone who, for all we know, may have been truly misguided. And if we are so easily ready to throw stones at those who are wrong, it may be worth looking inwards and treating others with the same grace we should be affording ourselves.

Positionality Statement: This post is written by Marybeth Mareski, a Returning Women’s Scholar and social work intern at the Women’s Center in her final year at UMBC. I am a gender nonconforming lesbian in the queer and trans community, and I am in social work school with the professional goal of providing therapy to primarily queer and trans clients. I write this post as a summary of the recent anti-trans legislation, to draw attention to some of the underlying motivations, and to offer suggestions on how to support the queer and trans community.

Almost as if they had no intentions or ideas about how to solve any of America’s actual problems, lawmakers have made this the worst year in American history so far for anti-trans legislation, with more than three anti LGBTQ laws being filed each day in 2022. 

These bills tend to fall into three main categories:

1. The first is school policies, such as Florida’s controversial so-called “Don’t Say Gay” bill, recently signed into law by Ron DeSantis, which forbids teachers from discussing the topic of LGBTQ people with students before fourth grade, even though 1% of 9-year olds already self-identify as gay or trans. 
2. The second is youth healthcare bans, the most of extreme of which attempted to criminalize helping a child cross state lines to seek care (in Idaho, though passed by their State House mercifully killed by their State Senate). 
3. The third is youth sports bans, like the recent Utah bill banning trans students from playing on women’s school teams, which the governor vetoed but the state legislature overturned to force into law. Reader, there is one transgender girl playing on a women’s K-12 team in all of Utah. All of this legislative effort spent to prevent one girl from playing sports. Perhaps this is about something else, then?

When society is suddenly up in arms about something that presents very little if any actual harm, it is time to wonder if we have a moral panic on our hands.

Moral Panics

Moral panics are a phenomenon where a behavior or group of individuals is targeted for public concern that is far in excess of the actual danger presented. Moral panics are beneficial to the state, because they amplify the powers of the law, and beneficial to the news media, because coverage of these moral panics drive viewership and advertising revenue. For instance, as the the US legislative apparatus spends its time keeping trans kids out of the sports of their choice in late March and early April, Fox news aired 170 segments discussing trans people over those three weeks, including Tucker Carlson’s lie that kids are trans because of adult predators. What is the outcome of programming like this? Increased viewership and ad revenue to Fox News, and increased public attacks against LGBTQ people: a recent example includes a family with two dads who endured a man screaming at them on a train that they were pedophiles who had had stolen their own children.

Republicans hammer on moral panics like trans issues and Critical Race Theory to mobilize their base. This sort of outrage is very effective at bringing voters to the polls, but it leads to uncertain outcomes: 67% of national voters oppose legislation that prohibits trans athletes from playing on their team of choice. Fascinatingly, it is not because most Republicans support trans athletes – it seems to be because voters find the involvement of the law itself in this issue to be distasteful.

At the risk of giving too much credit to the American voter, is it not also clear that spending effort on legislating this issue is a huge waste of time? Nearly one million Americans are dead from Covid. Inflation is the highest it’s been in forty years. Housing costs have gone up more than 25% since March 2020. How is keeping trans kids out of sports improving the lives of Americans?

Transness is Not New

The notion that children who believe themselves to be trans are being ‘groomed’ by LGBTQ adults is an age-old fearmongering tactic. It stems from the right-wing ideology that being LGBTQ is unnatural, and therefore queer kids must have been indoctrinated into being queer, which is absurd on its face: one of the biggest mental health threats that LGBTQ people face is rejection from their own families. It is not seeing representations of the sinful urban lifestyle that converts innocent children into being queer – young people discover their own LGBTQ tendencies, do not feel safe in their own communities, and move to the diverse urban centers where they are free to be fully themselves.

What about concerns that such an increasing number of young people are transitioning that it must be a trend? 

Obstacles to transgender care have been immense. The psychiatric community has controlled access to gender-affirming services, and the terms of that access has been giving the answers that caregivers demanded to hear. Once barriers are lowered and the stigma is decreased, the natural incidence can be allowed to emerge. Take the history of left-handedness, for instance. In the early 20th century, left-handedness was seen as unnatural and punished, and rates of left-handedness were artificially suppressed. Once that stigma faded, rates rose more than ten percent in the population to their natural level, and remained there. Has being trans been vanishingly rare, or has being able to be trans been vanishingly rare?

Being trans is not new. People with a gender expression beyond biological male and female have always existed:

“… cultures worldwide have often recognized genders other than “male” and “female.” India’s hijra, which has existed for millennia, has an essential place in Hinduism and a socio-cultural role as performers. Judaism recognizes no fewer than six distinct sex¹ categories in its classical texts and tradition. In Oaxaca, Mexico, the third gender muxe dates back to the pre-Columbian era. The South Sulawesi Bugis people recognize five genders which have been crucial to their society for at least 600 years. – The Gender Binary Is a Tool of White Supremacy

And just as people throughout millenia have expressed their identity beyond the gender binary, researcher Jules Gill-Peterson found evidence that young people have been socially transitioning throughout the twentieth century, and attempting to transition medically for as long as medical transition as existed:

“I found handwritten letters from trans kids to a famous endocrinologist, Harry Benjamin, who was known for providing trans healthcare. In the 60s and 70s, they would say, “I’m X years old. I’m a transsexual. I read about that in the news” or “I looked up your work at a library, and it describes who I am”. They were from all over the country and they would ask if Dr Benjamin could see them, send them hormones, give them a permit to wear the clothes they wanted, talk to their family or teacher. It was young kids knowing really clearly that they were trans and going toe-to-toe with medical professionals. Suddenly, I had not only proof that kids were trans, but that they contacted doctors and tried to transition the best they could. It speaks to the remarkable ingenuity and resilience that trans young people have had for a really long time. And it’s pretty unimpeachable evidence that this is not a new social phenomenon. It’s not some trendy thing that kids are picking up now.” – ‘Trans kids are not new’: a historian on the long record of youth transitioning in America

What Can You Do?

ACLU lawyer Chase Strangio and writer and activist Raquel Willis used the occasion of the Trans Day of Visibility to devote an entire week to activism against these bills. They created a website called Trans Week of Visibility and Action which outlines many of the bills in question, some of which are still in session, with links to scripts to write to lawmakers, as well as links to local, trans-led grassroots organizations that are helping trans kids in each state. In Maryland, Trans Maryland is a “multi-racial, multi-gender, trans-led community power building organization dedicated to Maryland’s trans community” which works to pass trans-affirming bills in Annapolis and promote trans-inclusive health care in Maryland, as well as offering legal and financial support for name changes for trans people and a weekly digital support group – follow them online for action alerts for Maryland-based trans-related legislation, or donate to help support their cause.

Baltimore Safe Haven is a trans-led organization that provides services to the trans community members in survival mode. They offer a drop-in center, transitional housing, youth housing, meal services, and more. They are seeking volunteers, donations, and wish list purchases.

Trans people have always been on the forefront of LGBTQ+ rights, because society is so hostile to trans people that they so often have to fight to simply survive. We can call this bravery or resilience, and it is, but it is also the result of trans people being forced to constantly advocate for themselves, with little help from other, less marginalized groups. If you are cis, what about helping the trans people in your life, or clearly identifying yourself as an ally to them? 

Modeling trans-inclusive behavior increases the safety, comfort, and well-being of trans people around you. The National Center of Transgender Equality has a list of actions you can take that include challenging anti-transgender remarks, supporting trans people who experience discrimination, ensuring non-gendered bathrooms in your spaces, crafting anti-discrimination policies for trans people in your workplace, writing your representatives about laws related to trans people, and working to make sure that systems you are involved in are trans-inclusive. 

Does none of this sound direct or effective enough? Are you a financially stable person with privilege? The most immediate way to make an impact for young trans people fighting for their survival is to give money to them directly. Here are some twitter accounts that crowdsource black trans people who need help paying their bills:

Black Trans Futures

Trans hoodoo funds

Pay Black Trans Women

Keep an eye out for trans people in your social media network who are crowdsourcing for their survival, and make a point to donate to them. More than signing a petition, you can be sure that you had a part in taking care of a trans member in your community.

Survival in America is difficult enough these days. Making the existence of trans children into a moral panic is a cynical and cowardly move by transphobic lawmakers who are attempting to draw focus away from failures of governance. But at the end of the day, we are all suffering from these failures of governance, and the best way to continue to move forward is to dedicate ourselves to the notion that every life has value by supporting each other.

Resources:

Moral Panic: Who Benefits From Public Fear?

The Gender Binary Is a Tool of White Supremacy

 ‘Trans kids are not new’: a historian on the long record of youth transitioning in America

Trans Week of Visibility and Action

Supporting the Transgender People in Your Life: A Guide to Being a Good Ally

Image description: shows student, Jane, smiling in front of a UMBC building

Positionality Statement: This post is written by Jane DeHitta, an adult learner in her final year at UMBC, who works as a student staff and social work intern at the Women’s Center. I am a first generation Filipino-American student who seeks to be self-aware of the power dynamics that take place in the intersections of our identities and strives to be intentional in the ways I speak to and encounter others. In this post, I share my experience of microaggressions against race and discuss a connection between microaggressions of different forms and the impact that can have on the individual. My experience is my own and I use it as a point of reference and not to represent the innumerable diversity of people’s experience with microaggressions. I hope that what I share in this post gives validation to those who have had experiences similar to my own, and to give a moment for thought and self-reflection for those who find themselves as the microaggressor.

Image description: a cartoon gif of two hands holding up a dark blue sign with the words “Words have power” written across it. The word “power” has an animated line being crossed underneath it for emphasis.

“I wonder who is more Asian?” my white female friend said in passing. She and I had been discussing movies we recently watched, among them Crazy Rich Asians and Always Be My Maybe, movies that feature a predominantly Asian cast. My friend had lived for several years in China and even spoke Cantonese and Mandarin, she had the privilege of experiencing much of Chinese culture. I, on the other hand, grew up in Maryland my whole life and have never been back to my parents home country of the Philippines, nor was I taught how to speak their native languages of Tagalog or Cebuano beyond a few conversational words. 

Taken aback by my friend’s question, I scoffed and went along with what I assumed was a joke by saying, “between you and me?”

She laughed, “yeah.” 

I felt uncomfortable but uncertain why or how to express it so I half-heartedly laughed back and said in an exaggeratedly teasing tone, “don’t make me prove my asianness to you!” We continued our conversation for a few minutes more before parting ways, but that discomfort lingered as a knot in my stomach. 

Prior to this recent encounter, I know that I have experienced microaggressions throughout my life, from friends saying, “oh, sometimes I forget your Asian!”  to strangers asking me “Where were you born? (Maryland) No, but where are you really from?” But because of my introverted personality and the culture of passivity I grew up in, I learned to respond much like the way I responded to my friend. Ignoring it or laughing it off. I wouldn’t confront the perpetrator or call them out, because it was easier that way, I could deal with my discomfort later. And afterwards I would go through a dialogue in my head that looks something like this, “they didn’t mean it like that. I shouldn’t be offended! They were just kidding! I’m not actually hurt by what they said. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. Even if I was hurt or bothered, I’ve already laughed and moved on, and so have they. They don’t always say/do things like that.  Dwelling on it isn’t going to help. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable or feel bad.” I also struggle with invalidating my own experiences simply because “others have it worse”.

Infographic shows a breakdown of the impacts of microaggressions; key words: Imposter Syndrome, Stereotype Threat, other bad feelings like poor self-confidence, depression, etc. Link for more information

Growing up in Maryland for the entirety of my 26 years of life, I have had conflicting feelings about my Filipino/Asian identity. My parents did their best to share their culture, through cooking, traditions, and stories; every summer we went to the local Filipino festivals, and were a part of various Filipino groups. I loved going to these places, tasting the food, seeing the traditional clothing, and watching the dances–one of the years, my sisters and I even participated in the procession for Filipino princesses. And there were moments at these events as we would walk through the stalls as a family, when vendors would greet us, striking up a conversation with my parents in Tagalog or Cebuano. While they talked, I would just stand there awkwardly, nodding and smiling, though I didn’t know what was being said. Then they would turn to me and ask me something, and my mom would translate to me so I could answer. The shopkeepers would give a look of disappointment, “Oh you don’t speak Tagalog…?” It was in those moments, I remember this feeling, almost like imposter syndrome, that I’ve blown my cover, that if someone tried to talk to me they would realize I’m not actually Filipino and I didn’t belong.

A microaggression is “a statement, action, or incident regarded as an instance of indirect, subtle, or unintentional discrimination against members of a marginalized group such as a racial or ethnic minority.” These can be subtle and are often considered harmless by the deliverer, but can have a huge impact on the individual. 

This infographic describes how to be an active bystander and address microaggressions. Key words: Observe, Think, Feel, Desire. Link for more information

Once my friend left me to ponder the authenticity of my racial and ethnic identities, I was able to take some time to reflect and navigate through my feelings. I asked myself, what about that question has continued to bother me? I was able to confide in my siblings, and as I processed through the experience with them I realized that the question I felt was lying underneath my friend’s words was this accusation of  “are you really Asian if…?” …you haven’t been to the country of origin, if you don’t speak the language, if…

I felt this question cutting at the ties of my belonging and identity. And I broke down crying.. 

Fortunately, my siblings were quick to support and affirm my feelings of confusion and hurt, as well as, comforting me with a list of  reasons of “you’re so Asian you…” (always tap the bags of rice at the grocery store; have a blue sash in Kung Fu; know how to pronounce adobo…etc) It’s funny, I laughed, and also I realized how ridiculous it was to even have a list of these qualifiers. 

Image description: an Asian woman making a “check mark” gesture with her finger saying “okay check!”

Being Asian or belonging to any racial or ethnic minority cannot be qualified and boiled down to a few checkboxes. It’s the different and unique combination of an individual’s upbringing, family history, ancestry, shared culture, passing on of traditions, and along with that, their experience of the intersectionality of their identities of race and ethnicity with gender, religion, sexual orientation, ability/disability, socio-economic status, etc.

The next day, I ran into this same friend and we made small talk. I was about to walk away when in my head I thought, “now is as good a time as any.” I asked if she had a moment to talk about our conversation from the other day and was able to express how what she said had made me uncomfortable. However, I was so concerned about her feelings that I kept downplaying my hurt and focused more on reassuring her “I know that wasn’t what you intended, or what you meant, and you’re not responsible for how I feel or react, but you are responsible for the things you say.” She apologized and shared that she was probably coming from a place of insecurity as well because she sometimes doesn’t feel connected with either her Asian connections and her White-American identity. This is not an uncommon experience, oftentimes when women of color are talking to a white woman to call them on, the conversation moves quickly from impact on the person of color to the guilt the white person feels for having made that impact. Their whiteness becomes centered. I listened and nodded and reassured her. And then I said we were fine and we ended the conversation.

The peace and resolution I felt after that encounter did not last. I found myself avoiding spaces I knew she would be in and feeling unsure of myself because I had already said we were fine, and I didn’t know how to communicate that I was, in fact, not. 

I ended up texting my friend and setting a boundary, “Hi, I know we had our conversation but I realize I’m still uncomfortable and I need space. That might look like I’m giving you the silent treatment, but I’m just trying to process.” 

She responded, “Thank you for letting me know. I have been thinking about our conversation too. If and when you would like to talk together again or process together I am open to that. I am very sorry for hurting you so deeply.” 

After taking a few days, and talking it through with my siblings, I made a plan for having a follow-up to the follow-up conversation with this friend. My sister suggested I write down the things I wanted to be able to say and to think of the reason or goal behind having this conversation:

The point of this conversation is to: 

1. Express how our second conversation made me feel unheard because it became centered on you
2. Be able to freely and authentically express how I feel without interruption or downplaying the impact of your words

Things I wanted to say:

1. It’s important to have this conversation because my feelings are valid and important and matter
2. I was hurt because it felt like you were asking me to prove my asianness and it hurt to think of the fact that my parents didn’t have the money to send me or my siblings back to the Philippines to visit or that there was an assumption that my parents didn’t care enough to teach me their language 
3. I think it would’ve been offensive even if you were Asian to say that, but it was more so because you are white and in that sentence you assumed my experience was similar to yours, when your lived experience is fundamentally different simply because you are white. Like when the rise in Asian hate crimes happened, you didn’t have to question how that would affect your behavior or safety.

To be clear, I share this not to villainize my friend. To her credit, she was able to have that conversation with me and give me the space I needed to process with her in that final dialogue without coming to her own defense and explaining where she was coming from. She listened to how her words had affected me, gave a sincere apology, and acknowledged that the excuse of “I wasn’t thinking” was lacking. To that end, I share this to make room for self-reflection for all of us, myself included, “have I said or done things that would be considered microaggressions to others? How have I used language that excludes others from feeling like they belong? Have I, at times, done more to defend myself than to listen to the impact of my actions or words?” 

“So maybe another question to ask is, how can I let this person share their experience with me before I assume what their experience has been…?”

These questions are things I have been asking myself.

As The Women’s Center continues their year-long conversation on Disability Justice + Access, I want to pose these questions specifically towards disability, both visible and especially invisible disabilities

Microaggressions can take a number of forms against those with disabilities. As I was reading I was struck by how subtle these can be and how harmful they are to the individual. Becoming aware of them and naming them can help prevent us from making the same hurtful mistakes in how we interact with those in the disabled community. 

My experience with having my own racial identity questioned closely resembles the invalidation that people with disabilities often face from those who question whether or not they are actually disabled or disabled enough. 

For instance, in this article I read, for those with invisible disabilities who drove, parking in handicapped spots often engendered glares, questions, or negative comments. A woman with a hidden disability stated, “Sometimes I get out of the car and I’m like, ‘Oh, who’s around, like do I need to take out the wheelchair for show?” (Olkin, 2019)

These microaggressions, among other things, can be felt as an attack against belonging and identity. As a non-disabled person, I cannot speak to what these experiences are like, and I don’t want to sit here comparing microaggressions like some sort of oppression olympics; what I want to do is be thoughtful about the ways I encounter those with disabilities (and to be considerate with meeting people in general because you never know what someone might be struggling with). So maybe another question to ask is, how can I let this person share their experience with me before I assume what their experience has been…?

In the last two years, I have been working on finding my voice and learning how to express my needs and feelings. This instance that I’ve shared was the first time that I really addressed a microaggression directed at me. And as I shared, it was not a straight-forward or easy path. I questioned how I was feeling and whether it was worth speaking up. I had to have the conversation a couple of times and sought out support from those who know and love me to help me organize my thoughts. 

Image description: An Asian woman saying with a determined expression, “We do speak up now. We do have a voice.”

As I’ve been educating myself more on social identities, I am learning how I can advocate for myself and on behalf of others. 

I’m challenging myself to 1) be brave in holding these conversations when someone says something that makes me uncomfortable and 2) be humble and self-reflective if and when someone calls me out or calls me in for something I have said. Making an authentic apology without excuses can be healing for both persons involved.

I encourage you to join me. Together, we can be the change we want to see in the world (too cheesy with the Ghandi line? I think not!).

Image description: A scene from Always Be My Maybe, in which the Asian female lead, Ali Wong points to the camera and smiles affectionately.

Recommendations and Resources: 

 I quoted this article when talking about microaggressions against disabilities: The Experiences of Microaggressions against Women with Visible and Invisible Disabilities. Olkin, R., Hayward, H., Abbene, M. S., & VanHeel, G. (2019). Journal of Social Issues, 75(3), 757–785. https://doi.org/10.1111/josi.12342

How Microagressions are like Mosquito Bites

A Guide to Responding to Microaggressions 

University of Washington made these infographicson microaggressions that can be helpful 

Office of Equity and Inclusion also helps with civil rights issues including discrimination, harassment, hate and bias

Content Note: This post is written by Sara Stewart, a sophomore and student staff member at the Women’s Center.  I am a non-disabled student, who, in my reading, work with CSJ, and personal reflection, hopes to be a better ally to my disabled family members, friends, and community members.  I wish to recognize where social and institutional practices reinforce ableism, and work to dismantle that. I hope what I share in this post is thought-provoking, and helps others find opportunities to work on ways to improve online accessibility.

October is in full swing, and the Women’s Center kicked off our 2021-2022 Critical Social Justice Initiative: Disability Justice and Access Matters with our first event, CSJ 101: Disability Justice at UMBC + Beyond.  While participants discussed accessibility and the history and principles of the disability justice movement on and off-campus, there were also conversations on how the pandemic forced UMBC, other colleges, schools, and many workplaces to adapt to remote work and learning.  Among other things, the flexible hours and ability to work and learn from home are options that disabled people have advocated for years.  We must raise the question: What does it mean that it took a global emergency to push accessibility to the forefront of our minds?

With this foundational question, we need to consider the ways we can continue to practice and expand our values of accessibility and inclusivity online.  In particular, as acts of oppression and anti-Black violence have been public and widely discussed in online spaces during the pandemic, much of our storytelling, learning, and growth from one another has become more prominent online, especially on social media sites like Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok.  This demands that we work together to make social media spaces accessible for all.

Many disability activists and users have long been discussing disability justice on these platforms, sometimes at the risk of being shadow banned: unknowingly having their content hidden from followers and other users.  A simple way to be good allies and challenge this online erasure is to reflect on the online learning we choose to engage in and our current accessibility practices, while recognizing where we can hear feedback, grow, and change.  Disability justice must exist in all spaces where we are coming together to share knowledge, stories, and cultivate a sense of solidarity.  

In my research to improve social media accessibility at the Women’s Center, I’ve focused on image descriptions, alt-text, video captioning, and transcriptions.  One of the first pieces I read to get a sense of the issue was this article: ‘May be an image’: what it’s like browsing instagram while blind.’  However, I had trouble picturing and fully understanding the mechanics of a screen reader, so I decided to try it myself by switching on VoiceOver in my phone settings and browsing Instagram.  It was nowhere near the same experience, since I’m not visually impaired, but it quickly became clear why not including alt text or image descriptions in a post would become a problem.  The screen reader would offer a variety of descriptions of a post’s content, ranging from: “Photo” or “Image” without any more information, or it would guess, “May be an image of: an animal” when describing a Halloween post of a kitten sitting in a Jack-O’-Lantern.  As the article discusses, the accuracy of the screen reader was a complete hit or miss without the help of image descriptions or alt text, and people who need this technology would miss out on a lot of content online.

Even though these features may be new to some people, especially to those who are non-disabled, we must do the work together to make the spaces we create online inclusive and accessible.  To that end, I’ve put together an easy resource guide of some social media accessibility practices, however, this is not an exhaustive list.  Compiled at the end of this blog post is a list of resources and advocates that assisted me in this research, and are also good places to consult for yourself!

Image Descriptions and Alt Text

Both image descriptions and alt text are used to describe an image or video being shared online, however, they can be displayed differently.  These features are useful for a variety of reasons, for those with limited vision, language-learners, to transcribe difficult fonts, and so much more.  

Usually, alt text is not visually displayed, as it primarily refers to the text added to the alt attribute within an image.  In other words, alt text is embedded within an image for accessibility purposes and to be shown in the place of an image if it can’t load.  Since screen readers can’t “read” an image, they read the alt text instead, passing on the information either through a Braille display or by reading it out in a synthetic voice.  On platforms like Instagram and Twitter, alt text can be manually entered by selecting “advanced settings” and “+ALT” when sharing content online.  When writing alt text, there are a few things you should keep in mind.  There are usually character limits, so try to be short and concise!  Consider the context, content, and function of the image and give a very brief description. 

On the other hand, image descriptions can be lengthier and more detailed.  They can be included in the main caption of a post or in a reply to the original content.  When writing image descriptions, think about the reason for sharing an image and the information or message to be conveyed.  If the image is a graphic, make sure to transcribe the text.  If you’re sharing a picture of your funny dog, take some liberties in describing its goofy expression!  You know your audience and their needs best, and the right tone to use when sharing information.  Alex Chen, a product designer and writer in Chicago, recommends using a framework of object, action, and context in an attempt to stay concise while also communicating the full intent of the image.  In this model, the object would be the main focus or subject of an image, the action would be what the object is doing or what is happening to it, while the context describes the surrounding environment and purpose.  While these are only a few helpful pointers, image descriptions will naturally take a bit of practice and getting used to.  Don’t be discouraged!

Video Captions and Video Transcriptions 

So what about live video?  Well, video captions divide speech transcripts using caption frames that are synchronized with the audio.  These identify speakers and depict all speech and sound effects, including relevant sounds and inflections.  Captions or sticker captions can be added on pre-recorded videos on some platforms such as Instagram and TikTok.  Where live-streaming is possible, live captioning is typically available online with some paid services like 3playmedia.  Otherwise, on Instagram specifically, auto-generated captions can be included when posting the saved video.

On the other hand, video transcriptions convert all spoken audio and information, including on-screen text and key visual information, into written textual descriptions.  The main difference is that transcriptions are separate texts that aren’t synced to any audio, and can be either verbatim or clean read, the latter of which uses light edits to allow for readability.  

Both captions and transcriptions are great to use when sharing video content online, and when used in conjunction with image descriptions in alt text, increase the accessibility of social media. 

Other Good Practices 

• When writing hashtags, use camel case: #CaptionLikeThis #notlikethis
• Place mentions and hashtags at the end of the post
• Use emojis sparingly, since each one is read out by screen readers
• Include trigger warnings and/or content warnings when sharing material that may include sensitive content for some people.  Posting these warnings also empowers people to choose what they want to interact with online, or not
• It can be challenging to differentiate between low-contrast colors, so use an online high contrast color checker, such as this one by Coolors, to ensure your image is readable
• In text-based images, use one or two easy-to-read fonts, like Serif or Arial, with large text and ample spacing

Give Credit Where Credit Is Due!

When engaging with and sharing disability activists’ content online, give credit where it’s due!  Follow, uplift, and take the time to reflect on what is being shared.  When possible, support activists directly by financial means!  Part of doing this learning is giving recognition to the people who have been taking the time to do the work of teaching disability justice.  Giving credit and offering meaningful engagement are actions that can be so simple, and that go a long way in empowering others.      

Just do it!

While I’m just beginning to explore the ways I can make my online spaces more accessible, there’s still so much more for me to consider.  People have advocated for baseline accessibility for a long time, so we must continue to address this and adapt to the needs of those around us.  I invite readers to join me on this journey!  What suggestions do you have to make social media more accessible?  If these are new concepts for you, what’s one takeaway you’ll consider incorporating into your own practices?  Feel free to share below in the comments or message on our social media! 

We invite you to learn more about this year’s Critical Social Justice Initiative!  Our next event, Crip Camp: Screening and Discussion will take place online on October 27th, from 3-6pm.  If you would like to be involved in our upcoming events, subscribe to this WordPress and follow us on myUMBC.

Further Resources

• “May be an image;” what it’s like browsing Instagram while blind
• Is Your Social Media Accessible to Everyone? These 9 Best Practices Can Help 
• Closed Captioning vs. Live Transcription: What’s the Difference? 
• Transcription vs. Captioning – What’s the Difference? 
• How to write an image description (Alex Chen) 
• AccessThat: Digital Accessibility Basics 
• Disability Intersectionality Summit: Places to Start 
• Access Is Love Reading List 
• Alt Text as Poetry  
• Shadowbanning is a Thing — and It’s Hurting Trans and Disabled Advocates 
• Instagrams
  • @higher_priestess
  • @annieelainey
  • @accessbitch
  • @access_guide_
  • @thedisabledhippie

Autumn Cook (they/them) is a senior dual degree recipient in Chemistry and Gender, Women’s, + Sexuality Studies. They are a member of the Women’s Center staff team and co-facilitate the Spectrum discussion group which is a space for trans and non-binary community members.

We are in the midst of one of the most ruthless and successful pushes to limit transgender people from participating within everyday society. At the time of publishing, 7 states (Arkansas, Alabama, Tennessee, Idaho, South Dakota, Mississippi, and West Virginia) currently have laws on the books that prohibit transgender youth from participating in gender-segregated sports. That is, transgender girls are not allowed to play girls sports under penalty of the law. Twenty-five more states have either proposed bills or have bills waiting to be voted on within their state legislatures that do the same thing. A similar measure failed within the United States Senate on a razor-thin 49-50 margin.

These bills are extremely frightening and damaging not only to transgender youth but to the transgender population as a whole, and the entire activist population cannot just watch the rights of marginalized people be eroded. I am a transgender athlete, and although I am not of the age where many of these bills apply me, I used to be a transgender kid who would have been affected by these laws.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve really liked participating in sports even though I was usually pretty bad at them. I played recreational soccer throughout elementary school and exceptionally enjoyed it. In middle school though, I discovered Ultimate, more commonly known as Ultimate Frisbee (Frisbee is actually a trademark, and therefore only can be used to describe discs made by Wham-O), and was almost immediately in love. But I didn’t consider myself an Ultimate player until my freshman year of college when I participated in UMBC’s annual hat tournament.

Image Description: 17 members of the 2019-2020 UMBC Women’s Ultimate team, standing in two rows within their blue and yellow jerseys.

Ultimate is a team sport that consists of two teams of seven players trying to get a disc down the field to the other team’s endzone. It’s not as easy as just running the disc to the endzone and passing it when you get blocked; a player who has the disc cannot move and must pass the disc to their teammates to advance it down the field. Uniquely, Ultimate is a non-contact sport that is refereed by the players themselves: there are no officials on the field. This forces an open dialogue between the players of the two opposing teams and fosters mutual respect from a collective love of playing the game.

When I showed up to the hat tournament on the fields near the Event Center, I was a fresh face and I didn’t know anyone or what to expect from this entirely new group of people I almost felt I was infiltrating. I thought a lot about my transness in relation to everyone else’s cisness, but no one asked and just took me at my word that I was a woman. I was hesitant at first, thinking they might confront me, but then in the second game of the day, I subbed in and almost immediately I saw an opening. I was being poached, or my defender was electing to cover the space where they thought I would run to get the disc rather than covering me directly. I saw this and immediately booked it for the endzone.The person in control of the disc saw this and by the time my defender reacted, I was already halfway down the field. Before I knew it, the disc was flying overhead and I wasn’t going to be fast enough to catch it. So I did the only other thing you can do in this situation… layout!

Image description: A GIF of Professional Ultimate Player Ashleigh Buch running and diving for (laying out) for a disc thrown into the end-zone.

While I adore the adrenaline rush that you receive after being a part of a big play, I think what kept me coming back to Ultimate was the mutual respect that players had for each other and the community surrounding Ultimate. Ultimate players are not in it for fame or the money, because there really isn’t any, but instead, push their bodies to the limit because they truly adore the game and adore the people that they have met through it. They didn’t care that I was trans; Ultimate players just care about your love of the game.

Unfortunately, one part of Ultimate is that the vast majority of organized play at the college level is gendered, as in there is a men’s league and a women’s league, so it can be a bit awkward when you come out as a trans person. Although there is a mixed league where men and women play alongside each other, I was very lucky in this sense because by the time I was playing competitive Ultimate in college, I had fully transitioned and had been on hormones for years. At the time I started playing, there were restrictions about who could play in the women’s league, but fortunately, I was within the restrictions and could play. 

Luckily, thanks to the tireless activism from Ultimate players, USA Ultimate (USAU), recently amended the guidelines that dictate who can play in the Women’s and Men’s leagues and no longer requires “transfeminine people to be on testosterone suppressants for a year before they become eligible” and also allows transmasculine people to still play in the “women’s” league, regardless of if they are taking testosterone or not. This is a fantastic demonstration of the Ultimate community’s commitment to inclusivity and equity.

However, the USAU organization is a relatively small organization that organizes a relatively small collegiate sporting league. The NCAA, the preeminent collegiate sports organization within the US for major sports such as basketball, swim/dive, soccer, golf, volleyball etc, requires that transfeminine athletes who wish to compete within women’s sports be on hormone replacement therapy that blocks testosterone for at least one year, and for any testosterone taking transmasculine people to be immediately disqualified from the women’s divisions. This policy is quite similar to the established policies that the Olympics and other professional sporting bodies have used for years. The one year mark on testosterone blocking is almost completely arbitrary, as many transgender people’s hormones are stable long before the year mark. 

Transgender people being able to participate in gendered sports is not a new thing, but in the last year, the fervor around “transgender people taking over gendered sports” reached new highs so I wanted to add to the conversation by describing what it’s like being a transgender woman who participates in a woman’s sport. I am coming from a position of privilege because I never had to fight with the organizing bodies over my eligibility to play, and the sport that I play is inclusive and accepting of transgender bodies and identities; that doesn’t change the effect of the greater societal belief that transgender people somehow have an advantage in sports so my experiences will not be the same as other athletes or trans people who play different sports.

Whenever I step onto the field of a sanctioned tournament, or even if I’m just playing with people I haven’t played with before, I get really scared that someone is going to confront me about my gender identity, claiming that I should not be there, or that I have a competitive advantage, or that my presence is making the other players feel uncomfortable. I fear that someone is going to clock my gender identity just by the way that I sound or the shame on my shoulders. It has never actually happened before on the field, but that does not make the fear go away. Similar to what I discussed within my first blog post, the fear that I am invading a women’s space with my masculinized childhood experience haunts me. I’m an aggressive player, meaning that I go after discs hard and make my presence on the field known, and I’m always fearful that someone will read that as me being a man playing a women’s sport and be called out on it. Just the fear of theoretically being called out for not belonging within a space that I know that I belong in is really hard to grapple with and process, especially when I’m trying to devote all of my brainpower to doing the best I can on the field. 

Everyone who wants to participate in sports should be able to participate in sports.

Some of these fears come from the common tropes that parts of society hold surrounding how trans people operate within the world. One of the biggest fears that I have when playing women’s frisbee is getting called out on somehow having an advantage over the cis women. Lawmakers cite that these bills are to protect the “competitive integrity” of sports because they believe that transgender people will take over the top echelons of scholastic sports if they were allowed to compete. The idea that transgender people have an advantage over their cisgender counterparts is bogus fear-mongering about transgender people. Data actually suggests that trans women are less effective than their cisgender peers. For instance, one study showed trans women on hormone replacement therapy run 10% slower when compared to their results pre-HRT. Additionally, a United States Air Force study demonstrated that after a year on HRT, transgender and cisgender service members’ fitness metrics were nearly the same. 

To further demonstrate this false idea of “transgender advantage,” let’s also take a look at the history. Transgender athletes have been allowed to participate in competitive sports for years now, and only one openly transgender man, Chris Mosier, has qualified and joined a U.S. national team and only one transgender woman, Dr. Veronica Ivy, has won an international championship title, with Dr. Ivy havving won the UCI Women’s Masters Track Cycling World Championship for the women’s 35-44 bracket. That’s two people–and I don’t think they’re looking to take over the world of sports anytime soon.

Another aspect I want to challenge about these anti-trans laws is the question of who is actually impacted by them. Yes, trans athletes and trans students are obviously the most affected by these laws, but they are not the only people impacted by these laws! Every athlete, cisgender or transgender, are affected by these laws. This is directly seen within the text of Florida’s recent attempt at banning transgender kids from participating in sports, a bill that is currently predicted to die in the Florida State Senate, but passed the House. According to the Tampa Bay Times, if passed, this bill would allow people to challenge any athlete’s gender, forcing them to prove their “sex” one of three ways: “with a DNA test; with a testosterone test, or with [a] medical professional examining the student’s ‘reproductive anatomy.’” This problem is not just hypothetical. In 2017, an 8 year old girl and her team were disqualified from a girls club soccer tournament for looking too much like a boy with her short haircut. Tournament officials later said that this disqualification was because of a typo, an excuse that the family of the girl did not buy. 

The reality is that these bills hurt everyone.

Just as bills banning the use of public bathrooms hurt cisgender people who do not fit into the heteronormative and hegemonic ideas of what a “woman” or a “man” should look like, these anti-sports bans will hurt more than just transgender people. Any non-normative looking athlete is a target of these bills. 

Another interesting aspect of this debate is that sports are, by definition, a competition to determine who is better at some activity. In professional volleyball, do we require taller players to jump lower or to play on their knees to be fairer to the shorter players? Do we ask runners with a larger stride to limit themselves to make it fairer for the shorter-legged players? Of course, we don’t, because sports are a measure of people’s natural and trained abilities!

Society would never ask a cisgender person to limit themselves to make it fairer for another cisgender person so why is there a double standard for trans people? Some transgender athletes have different body types than their cisgender counterparts. A transgender woman who went through a male natal puberty might have broader shoulders, be taller, or have a longer stride. But even if these differences in body type did infer an advantage to transgender athletes over their cisgender peers, (which they don’t), it would not make sense to penalize them for being better at something than their competitors, because society does not punish cisgender athletes for their innate abilities.

Ultimately, the ability to participate in sports is a human right. Everyone who wants to participate in sports should be able to participate in sports. My message to everyone who thinks that transgender people should not be allowed to play sports is pretty simple: let me play the game that I love.

 Image Description: A professional Ultimate player playing out for a disc in a spectacular fashion.

This post is written by Sandra (She/Her/Ella pronouns). She is a student staff member and a social work intern completing her field placement at the Women’s Center.

Content Note:This blog post will discuss my personal experience as an adult learner student before and during the current pandemic. The content and images shared may not encompass every adult learner’s student experience.

My experience as an adult learner within the higher education system has been full of challenges. The decision to come back to school to pursue my undergraduate degree was difficult, as I knew that this would mean having to juggle multiple roles and commitments. While attending classes for the past 7 years, I have been working full-time while also managing to maintain a 4.0 GPA as a full-time student.

I have also had to deal with the pressure and obligation of financially supporting myself and my parents. I come from a household that has depended on me since the time I was old enough to apply for a job. On top of the external stressors that have hindered me from graduating within the typical 4 year period, there were also the long hours spent during my weekly commutes from work to class and then back to work. As if it wasn’t bad enough having to deal with the stress from home or school, I also had to worry about getting to class and work on time. My days were split between having to work full-time, commuting for one hour each way to and from school, and trying to manage my workloads for school and work.

[Image Description: A GYF with a calendar layout showing multiple meeting times. The graphics show a moving hand “posting” multi-color sticky notes with to-do assignments such as “exercise, lunch, science lab report, social students chapter, and Spanish video chat.”]

As I approached my senior year of undergrad, this had become life as I knew it until the COVID-19 pandemic made an abrupt shift throughout the world. It was then that I and every other student at UMBC were required to go from in-person learning to attending school via virtual platforms. This was truly a curveball for my last year as an undergrad as I had grown accustomed to my jam-packed schedule. However, the online environment and accessibility to resources alleviated many of the stressors I was enduring as a student. The ability to maintain a full-time job, be a full-time student and start an internship as a part-time student staff member was all made possible from the comfort of my own home.

Once the transition began, I had more time to work on homework and different professional goals which I hadn’t had the chance to start. The online environment also allowed me to be more involved in campus clubs and join many online community activities. I also had access to my professors, advisor, and other campus resources without having to worry about calling off from work or having to commute for over an hour to campus to meet them.

[Image Description: A photo of a white and grey dog with red sunglasses and a colorful text that reads “READY FOR MY ZOOM CALL”]

It is safe to say that this drastic change from in-person to virtual learning has made life so much easier for me. And as my final year of undergrad comes to an end, I can’t help but think about how much easier my life could have been if only this virtual learning opportunity would have been made available earlier on in my academic career. As an adult learner, I could have truly benefited from completing my program based on the virtual resources and opportunities that were made available this past year. I know I am not alone since more than 40% of adult learners make up for the nation’s college student body. There are roughly 17.3 million undergraduate students, and 31.2% of them identified students between the ages of 25 or older in the US. These are all students, who like me, have to juggle multiple roles and commitments outside of being a student. It should also be considered that the number of adult learners has been and continues to increase.

Adult Learners and Higher Education

Historically, higher education was design for the wealthy, particularly for white cis males. It was not made to accommodate the needs of women, parents, caregivers, immigrant students, students of color, LGBTQIA+ folx, people with disabilities, and people from low-income backgrounds (for a visual representation of these experiences, check out the trailer to Unlikely). In particular, higher education was not created to support the needs of adult learners who are usually parents, caregivers, or those who have to work full/part-time jobs to support themselves and their families. Institutions that do not consider the needs of adult learners and continue to sustain racial and oppressive practices directly affect adult learners who already have difficulties accessing education or complete a 4-year degree.

There are also evident achievement gaps in enrollment and retention for underrepresented student populations in higher ed institutions. Some of the most disproportionately affected groups are women who are adult learners. Most often, these women are parents who are trying to take care of their children while also managing their school/workloads. These are also women who are the sole providers of their families; often overworked and underpaid. Most women, especially women of color, who make up the adult learner population face higher dropout rates, higher rates in student debt, and experience higher levels of stress and anxiety. There is no doubt that women of color and people with marginalized identities are struggling to complete their degrees at higher ed institutions. The pandemic has emphasized the disproportion of resources allotted to adult learners, specifically working women who are seeking to better their home life and careers.

Back to “normal”?

As UMBC transitions back to more in-person classes, I would like to encourage the University to start having conversations centered around adult learners, and other students with different experiences who have benefited from the online environment. This is a conversation many other universities and colleges should be having too!

Although some classes have the option to meet online, most classes and programs at UMBC do not offer this option to students. Parents, caregivers, and students from low-income households would potentially benefit from taking more hybrid and online classes. This is because the traditional “rigid” academic schedule is very difficult for adult learners to balance. The convenience of flexible courses, compressed classes, fully online, or hybrid courses could ultimately help adult learners complete their degrees. In addition, adult learners wouldn’t have to worry about resigning from their jobs to attend school, as adult learners depend on their jobs to support themselves and their families. This would also reduce their transportation expenses as some students have to pay for gas or bus/train fares to travel to school for in-person learning.

[Image Description: A GYF showing a computer screen with six animated people in an online class. One individual is talking and a tiger filter suddenly appears over her face. Everyone on the virtual call appears shocked.]

It would also be helpful to continue to have virtual office hours, advising appointments, and online events/workshops for students. Belonging to a community that encourages, nurtures, and provides support to adult learners is critical to a student’s overall success. Plus, having the experiences of adult learners also benefits the learning and social experiences of traditionally aged students as well! For virtual learning to thrive and be as successful as it has been this past year, this will need to stay in place.

Overall, the adoption and continuation of the current virtual learning system could greatly benefit higher ed students, specifically many adult learners. Having been an adult learner who was required to meet in person for every class in my program, I can honestly say that I have personally benefited from virtual learning this past year. Truthfully, I believe that if it weren’t for the online classes this year, I would not be graduating this May. In all, my hope moving forward in my academic career is for virtual learning to be incorporated more as we continue to endure and one day overcome our current global health crisis.

Learn More About Other Adult Learners’ Story!

• Read about UMBC’s Returning Women Student Scholars News Article from last year graduating seniors!
• Returning Women’s Student Scholar spotlight, Christin Fagnani! Learn more about her experience as an adult learner on our Instagram and Facebook page.
• Returning Women’s Student Scholar spotlight, Joana Wall! Learn about her story: Instagram and Facebook
• Returning Women’s Student Scholar spotlight, Emma Earnest! Learn more about her experience as an adult learner on our Instagram and Facebook page!
• Returning Women’s Student Scholar spotlight, Christan Wallace. Learn about her story here: Instagram and Facebook posts.
• Returning Women’s Student Scholar spotlight, Lejla Heric-Safadi Instagram and Facebook.
• Returning Women’s Student Scholar Spotlight, Evangeline Kirigua. Learn more about her story here: Instagram and Facebook page!

Available Resources for Adult Learners at UMBC

• Returning Women’s Student Scholars + Affiliates Program: Returning Women Students Scholarship is to support undergraduate students age 25 and older in the completion of their first bachelor’s degree. In addition to the financial support offered through several different scholarships, the Returning Women Students Scholarships Program run by the Women’s Center provides a scholars community and various other support services and resources for scholarship recipients. 
• Login to your MyUMBC account and click ‘FOLLOW’ on the following individual’s group pages to receive all the updates via email. It contains information about how to get connected to different campus resources and information about upcoming events. 

1. MyUMBC Women’s Center Group Page: 
2. MyUMBC Initiatives for Identity, Inclusion & Belonging (i3b) Group Page: 
3. MyUMBC First_Gen Group page

• Resources for Working Parents & Caregivers
• Office of Student Disability Services (SDS): For general questions: Email disability@umbc.edu or by phone at (410) 455-2459.
• Academic Advocates: are dedicated to serving undergraduates who are admitted as first-time, full-time, degree-seeking students to assist them in resolving academic and institutional challenges
• Academic Success Center
• The Office of Financial Aid and Scholarships
• Off-Campus Student Services 
• The Albin O. Kuhn Library Resources 
• Scholarship Retrieval Tool
• Counseling Center

References

• https://eab.com/insights/daily-briefing/adult-learner/4-things-adult-learners-need-to-balance-school-and-work/
• https://eab.com/insights/daily-briefing/adult-learner/adult-learners-who-they-are-what-they-want-from-college/
• https://online.maryville.edu/blog/going-back-to-school-statistics/
• https://www.insidehighered.com/advice/2020/10/16/many-people-deny-how-pervasive-racism-higher-ed-and-how-its-often-reproduced
• https://www.aacu.org/aacu-news/newsletter/2019/march/facts-figures
• https://ms-jd.org/blog/article/women-and-higher-education-a-brief-history
• https://fas.columbia.edu/files/fas/content/ASHE%20Higher%20Education%20Report.%20Nov2015%2C%20Vol.%2042%20Issue%201%2C%20p49-71.%2023p.%20.pdf
• https://www.aacu.org/publications-research/periodicals/higher-education-and-equity-historical-narratives-contemporary
• http://www.aacu.org/publications-research/periodicals/research-adult-learners-Supporting-needs-student-population-no
• https://www.investopedia.com/personal-finance/why-american-women-hold-23rd-student-debt/
• https://1gyhoq479ufd3yna29x7ubjn-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/Women_FR_Web.pdf
• https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/on-parenting/working-moms-covid-pandemic-jobs/2020/10/29/e76a5ee0-0ef5-11eb-8a35-237ef1eb2ef7_story.html
• https://educationdata.org/college-dropout-rates
• https://www.americanprogress.org/issues/education-postsecondary/reports/2018/05/23/451186/neglected-college-race-gap-racial-disparities-among-college-completers/
• Larsson, A., Hooper, N., Osborne, L. A., Bennett, P., & McHugh, L. (2016). Using brief cognitive restructuring and cognitive diffusion techniques to cope with negative thoughts. Behavior Modification, 40(3), 452–482. https://doi.org/10.1177/0145445515621488
• Ross-Gordon, J. M. (2011). Research on adult learners: Supporting the needs of a student population that is no longer nontraditional. Peer Review, 13(1), 26–29.

Amelia Meman, GWST ’15, is the Assistant Director of the Women’s Center. Amelia uses they/them and she/her pronouns.

Burnt out? Me too.

This is not a new feeling for me. I have gotten to this same point during other parts of my academic and now professional career. This apex where I thought that if I was able to give it enough gas, stomp on the accelerator, and shut my eyes I could sail across the swiftly oncoming ravine. 

This is how I would like to navigate burnout. Goodbye, plebeian worries!
[Image description: a GIF from the movie Grease wherein main characters Sandy and Danny drive off into the sky in a red convertible. Sandy turns back to wave goodbye to the crowd.]

Let me tell you… I’ve never been able to sail over the ravine.

This is me. [Image description: a GIF of a small green car spinning out and finally falling off a small cliff.]

Burn out is unavoidable sometimes. Especially when we do not give ourselves the time and space to feel what we need to feel. It can come along for anyone doing anything. Maybe you don’t have the best apartment for experiencing alone time. Maybe you have way too many things going on between teaching your kids and managing online classes.

In my case, I just work. I work and work and work. My ridiculous proclivity for work inspired Rihanna’s classic. No joke! (I’m lying.)

I work because I really love my job and I feel a great sense of joy from having a purpose. I also work, because it’s my way of exerting control–and when you’re in a pandemic that has no end in sight, you crave a sense of control. So for this latest trip to Burnout Town, I have pushed aside my feelings and any sense of personal boundaries, so that I could focus on getting tasks and projects finished. 

I’m going to be using this ongoing metaphor of traveling on a road trip, so back to me in my car on a cliff: I pushed my car to its zenith mechanically and I also got a little (or maybe a lot) lost. The road was bumpy and dust was flying everywhere. The steering wheel was vibrating and I don’t remember when I last refueled, but all I wanted to do was get out of the rough patch we call Burnout Town by rocketing over the oncoming gulch. 

And now here I am, relating to you how to navigate Burnout Town, because I’m here now and it’s as crummy as the reviews it’s received on Yelp. 

Maybe you’re predisposed to burnout?

Before I get into the roadmap, this wouldn’t be a Women’s Center blog if I didn’t also mention how identity connects to burnout. Recently, I attended a presentation about the impact of COVID-19 on women in higher education. Needless to say, the numbers are fairly depressing, but they’re important to witness, because there is a sharp divide along gender lines and along racial lines (and disability lines and class lines, etc.).

The people who are doing both their professional work and family work are most often women. The people who feel most exhausted/overwhelmed are most often women. The people who are, in addition to working or searching for work, looking after children or elderly family members are, you guessed it, most often women. 

Ultimately, women are predisposed to burn out. 

And people with other marginalized identities are similarly situated. For example, women might bear the weight of stressors disproportionately to men, but when we dissect groups of women by race, we see that stressors are also disproportionately carried by women of color–especially Black women. 

Some might recall Sheryl Sandberg’s pop feminist concept of “lean in,” wherein, if you are a powerful woman at the top of your game, the feminist thing to do is to lean in and empower the other women around you rather than succumbing to the whitecisheterocapitalist competitive individuality that is typically ingrained in our definitions of success. What isn’t talked about is how white women frequently lean ON women of color for their social, emotional support. 

I appreciate what Loretta Ross said when she spoke out against racist/sexist stereotypes via the Women’s Center’s Telling Our Stories campaign; she said, “I am not your Tit,” which is to say: “I am not the person you can come to when you need to be nurtured, babied, supported unconditionally,” because as a Black woman, Loretta Ross doesn’t owe anyone that access to her energy, body, and psyche. Especially considering the long history of Black women being exploited as caretakers and caricatured as such (see “I am not your nice Mammy” by Cheryl Thomson).

Loretta Ross’s Telling Our Stories poster. [Image description: a graphic poster in yellow and navy blue. Top text reads “Women of Color: Telling Our Stories.” Below a cut out image of a Black woman wearing a bright red dress and red patterned vest is smiling. Next to her image reads, “My name is Loretta and I’m not your Tit.”]

It’s not just annoyance or an unwillingness to get things done that makes stress such an issue for women and other minoritized folks: it’s really that consistently high levels of stress are deadly.

Stress is killing marginalized people

First, I should name that I am operating from the assumption that those with target identities face more stress than those with agent identities. The sociological concept that I am referring to here is called “minority stress theory,” which posits that minorities experience heightened amounts of stressors by virtue of living in a systemically oppressive society.

When we think about stress and where it lives in the body, I think many folks would locate stress in our minds. Stress, for us, is that little (or big) voice that tugs at your mind saying, “Hey, loser. Heads up: you have a huge project due tomorrow, you need to buy groceries, and all of your pandemic plants are dying!” In reality, though, everything is connected and stress manifests throughout a body. When we take in stressful inputs, or “stressors,” we might be thinking about a lot of things but we also might feel our heart rate go up, our breath catch more often, or our insomnia gets the best of us. Stressors impacting a body might also cause our necks and shoulders to get stiff with tension, as well as strengthen the headache making its way around your skull. 

Ultimately, stress has inextricably holistic effects and at high, prolonged levels, the effects of stress add up. In a 2007 article on the connections between racial bias and health outcomes, a team of scholars (Ahmed, Mohammed, and Williams) synthesized the many patterns and trends to form the conclusion that bias is not just a social and political issue, but a public health issue. This is an excerpt from the Ahmed, et al. paper that outlines the pathways from racial bias incident to adverse health outcomes (the figure below visualizes this relationship):

Allostasis is the body’s ability to maintain homeostasis and to adapt to stressful events by appropriately activating the neuroendocrine, autonomic, and immune systems, and then to return to the basal state when the stressful event is past. While allostasis is adaptive in the short term, the cumulative burden of cycles of allostasis in response to repeated or chronic stress can be damaging and lead to multiple disease states. The concept of “allostatic load” refers to the cumulative wear and tear that the body experiences on these multiple regulatory systems as a result of repeated cycles of allostasis as well as the inefficient regulation of these cycles… High allostatic load is associated with the metabolic syndrome, and predicts mortality, cardiovascular disease incidence, and decline in cognitive and physical function.

Williams, D. R., & Mohammed, S. A. (2009). Discrimination and Racial Disparities in Health: Evidence and Needed Research. Journal of Behavioral Medicine , 32, 20-47.

I don’t share this information with the intention of being a harbinger of death nor am I trying to scare everyone into therapy. I talk about this stuff because it not only puts into perspective the vast importance of mental health and wellbeing but also the ways in which oppression impacts a body at a biological level. Burnout and stress and anxiety and depression are social justice issues, because we live in a socially unjust world–so in doing this critical social justice work, we need to continue to center the oppressed and bring an intentional, critical awareness to the fact that being well and surviving burnout hinges on being able to survive constant systemic violence.

Roadmap through Burnout Town

Okay, so enough with my TED Talk, you’ve reached the point where we can roll up our sleeves and return to this grand road trip metaphor I teased at the beginning of this blog. Let’s put the pedal to the metal… or… actually…

STEP 1: Notice where you are, how you are feeling

I didn’t know I was going to rely so heavily on John Travolta for this blog, but here we are. [Image description: a GIF of John Travolta a la Pulp Fiction looking around as if he is lost. He is superimposed over a browser window that reads, “Unable to connect to the Internet.]

Burnout, for me, often exists in tension with my own sense of perfectionism and anxiety. This is to the point that I often don’t notice how I’m feeling until I’m crashing. You might do this, too: At noon, I promise myself that if I just get my inbox down to zero, I’ll be able to get up from my computer and eat my lunch. Cut to 3:58 pm where I am bent over my keyboard and finalizing the last reply to an email and feeling mighty resentful that I have a meeting from 4 to 5, and my lunch is still in the office fridge.

It’s really hard to know when to stop. 

Beyond the fact that we live in a Western, capitalist society that places value in the white knuckle pluck it takes to do the impossible–we’re just not always tuned into our bodies. That’s why this first step is the hardest because we have to learn what burnout feels like in our bodies and when to take notice. 

I am by no means perfect at this, but some things that have helped me come into a more compassionate awareness of my body and my feelings are things like mindfulness and grounding activities. I’m particularly fond of the “body scan,” which asks you to check in with each part of your body to see how you’re doing.

There are a lot of grounding techniques and they’re all a little bit different, so if you haven’t found the one that resonates with you, fear not. Experiment and enjoy the process of finding what works for you.

STEP 2: Pull off the road and put the car in park

This is me. [Image description: a GIF of a child getting frustrated and repeatedly asking a person moving around in front of them to stop.]

Okay, so you’ve identified that something feels wrong and you’ve stopped your car. AWESOME! I mean, not awesome that something is wrong, but… well, you know. 

If it feels weird for me to celebrate your having to stop what you’re doing due to burnout, I want to be sorry, but I’m not. Here’s my thing: we don’t applaud saying “no” enough. 

Saying “no” is boundary-making/-maintaining and it’s critical to protecting your energy. Some may react to your boundaries with negativity. The classic, “What is wrong with you? Why don’t you want to come with me to the Chipotle grand opening?” But when you make the decision to stop because you’re being compassionate toward yourself, it’s the next step in working through the burnout. 

I don’t have much advice to share with you on this (other than to celebrate people’s “no” moments more often), but remember that even when you stop, it doesn’t mean you’re stopping for forever. It doesn’t even have to mean you’re stopping for the day. It just means you are striving to be present with yourself and that is a really good thing.

STEP 3: Take your time in running diagnostics and ask for help if you need it

Process, process, process. Lots of mental health professionals (including my therapists) will ask if you’ve processed these emotions–but what the heck does that mean? Well, I’ll tell you!

Processing emotion is.

It just is. We’re doing it all the time, we just don’t know it until we have some big bad emotion we don’t want to feel. We might be processing joy as we watch our kid giggle at something mundane. We might be processing anger as we get cut off by someone driving erratically. The process is the doing and emotion is always going through you.

But if you’re having trouble, start with noticing what’s happening in your body. For example, let’s try right now: take a breath and scan throughout your body; are your feet on the ground flat or are they bouncing? Are your shoulders up near your ears or are they drawn down? Do you feel more weight on one side of your body than another? Are your eyelids feeling heavy?

When we check in with our body, we can usually get a better idea of what’s happening. If your all tensed up around your shoulders and gritting your teeth, you might be angry. If you’re stomach hurts and your breathing a little heavier, you’re probably nervous. There’s a whole science to this “emotional sensations” stuff:

Full article from Greatist is here: Where Are Emotions Felt in the Body? [Image description: an infographic showing representations of emotion as they are felt through the body.]

And yeah, maybe you already knew that tears coming out of your eyes meant that you were feeling sad, fair enough, but the next step of understanding your emotions is to work through it. You can do so by talking it out, writing about it, doing some movement-based thing like dancing or walking, hugging a loved one for a long time. There are a whole bunch of things that you can do to work through your emotions. 

But what I really want to point out is that, foundationally, “processing emotion” is just feeling emotions. It’s not about expelling them, wringing them out of our bodies, or fixing our brains. Feelings are normal and valid and important–and try as we might, we cannot escape them, so we better get comfortable with having them along for the ride.

STEP 4: Get back in the car, and go where you need to go whether that’s a rest stop, the McDonalds drive-thru, your grandma’s house, or a gas station

Once you’ve done your body scan and taken the time to identify the emotion(s) or stressors that are impacting you, go take care of yourself. I know I just said this piece can be as simple as taking a walk, but there is a little more maintenance and intentionality involved.

You have to actually slow down and make a plan to get better. For me, that sometimes just means blocking off time in my calendar for human moments like going to the bathroom, eating my lunch, or talking to a friend (usually not all three at once, though). For others, maintenance might be finding a therapist, taking a nap, or finally making the doctor’s appointment you need to make. Regardless of what it is, make a plan to do it and then… do it. 

Follow through with your care plans and maintain their value. Others might question your priorities or consider it too “woo” to take a 10 minute meditation break–but their judgment isn’t helping you feel better so why listen to it?

I also understand that not everyone has understanding bosses or even the private space to meditate–and that’s why it’s important to create a plan that takes into consideration access, compatibility, and any communication that needs to happen beforehand. Normalize burnout, anxiety, depression, etc. Normalize the need to take time for yourself and to be curious about your healing journey. You’re worth it.

STEP 5: Know that it’s okay to get lost

I’m ending this blog here, with the sentiment that it’s okay to get lost. It’s okay to be burnt out. It’s okay to discover your rock bottom. It’s okay that this is hard freaking work. We’re in a pandemic, for goodness sake; and COVID-19 is not a scapegoat. It’s genuinely a massive shift to the gravity of our lives. 

And regardless of worldwide killer viruses, our lives are always complex. Burnout is just another means to learn more about our bodies, emotions, and human needs. Getting lost is just another form of discovery.

Burnout, stress, emotional angst–it’s real, it happens, and the important thing to know is that:

• this is temporary
• you’re not alone
• it’s not over, and 
• getting lost is sometimes part of the journey.

Regardless of where you are, you can find yourself. 

So even if you’re gunning the engine to get over the cliff or beyond the next highway or just out of this weird muddy rut, you can still slow down. Pull over. Take a beat to look up and be curious about the resilience of stars. Be in awe of the innumerable possibilities of where a breath can take you next. You got this.

Content Note: I wrote this as someone who identifies as a Nigerian-American. I wanted to share the parallels between those two parts of my identities. The blog explores police brutality occurring in Nigeria with specific focus on the events that occurred on October 20, 2020. The following may be triggering for some, as it contains descriptions and images of violence

What is SARS?

I was going to write a different kind of blog, one that told anyone who had not heard about the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) or the protests going on in Nigeria, what it was. In fact, I had written a full page already, but something told me it was inadequate.

As a staff member of the Women’s Center, I wanted to write about how women have led and organized peaceful protests around the country, how they organized food, legal aid and medical care for people who had been shot at, arrested or needed sustenance during protests. I had wanted to write about how Nigerians managed to raise 4 million naira in two days to get a prosthetic for a disabled woman who had walked with everyone to protest. I wanted to explore  how that had started a conversation on how the Nigerian government had failed its disabled population, but the new generation of Nigerians were not going to do the same. I wanted to tell you how Muslims and Christians had hugged and walked together for a common cause.

I wanted to tell you how inspired I was by my peers, by my people, and I still am, but today I am angry. I am hurt. I am tired. So, If you have not heard about the movement to end (SARS), here is an Instagram post that gives a run-down on how and why the protests started:

The Night that Cost Many Their Lives

As of October 20, 2020 (when I first began writing this blog post), the Lagos state governor of Nigeria imposed a 24-hour curfew on its citizens beginning at 4pm. The government then proceeded to remove all Close Circuit Televisions (CCTVs) at a popular protest point called the Lekki toll gate. Many people could not get back home in time for the curfew as the curfew was announced only four hours before it was to commence. In a city like Lagos, with its traffic and congestion, it was definitely guaranteed that not everyone could go home in time. So, some protestors decided to stay at the toll gate, seated on the floor arms locked, with their Nigerian flags waving. They were going to sleep there, as many had done in the past week and a half, but this time, they were not safe.

When it turned dark, the toll gate lights were shut off, and the Nigerian army opened fire on these people. They opened fire on civilians. They opened fire on unarmed civilians. They opened fire on Nigerians who were just asking for their rights to be respected. They opened fire while the world watched on Twitter and Instagram. The world watched as protesters huddled together and tried to save the leg of a protester who had been shot. The world watched as they tried to dig a bullet from his leg using phone torch lights to see in the dark. The world watched as people were killed in cold blood. Actually, I should say the president of Nigeria watched. 

When I was kid, I was told the reason Nigeria did not have a red color on its flag was because our fight for independence was peaceful. I was told it was because no blood was shed for Nigerians to get their independence from the British. Today, there is red on that green white green. Today the Nigerian flag is stained red with the blood of its people. They came out to protest against police brutality. They came out to protest against the killing of their brothers and sisters by the Nigerian police and they were gunned down by the people meant to fight their wars – the Nigerian Army. And, while I am angry, I am also scared. I am terrified for my people. I am terrified because I have friends in Nigeria. I am terrified because I have family in Nigeria. 

How Tragedy Brought People Together

I have seen videos of protestors singing the national anthem while they were being shot at. One could hear the fear in the voice of the man recording as he sang with everyone. I have seen a video of a man waving the national flag while he was in pain from being shot by the Nigerian army. I have seen hotels open their doors to protestors who were stranded and running from the shooting. I have seen hospitals open their doors to treat victims of the shooting for free. So as I am terrified by the evil in humanity, I am also inspired by the good in it. The bravery and the resilience of Nigerians, of Black people despite recent events, awe me. 

Connecting Global Movements

On October 20, 2020, Nigeria stopped being a Democracy because, to me, no legitimate democratic government would allow its people to be shot dead on its streets. 

As someone who now lives in the United States, I can’t help but also connect what’s happening in Nigeria to the Black Lives Matter movement happening in the United States. This movement is also rooted in police brutality against Black bodies. I ask myself, is anywhere safe for Black people? The people of my race are still dying, when their only crime is living. 

The Power of Women

So yes,  I applaud organizations like the Feminist Coalition, who helped gather donations for protestors, and families of the protestors, who have lost their lives in the fight. I applaud women, like Aisha Yesufu, who has bravely led her people in the fight against police brutality, and whose picture is one of the most popular ones from the movement (see image below). Women like Moe Dele who led a group of lawyers going to police stations in different states to free protestors, who had been unlawfully arrested. Women like Feyikemi Abudu, who while being a part of the Feminist Coalition, has helped create a help line for protestors who need medical help, legal aid, or funding to create a protest anywhere around the country. I applaud them for showing how powerful women are.

The Power of the People

I also believe the real applause goes to the people. The people who have been on the streets, the people who have risked their lives, the people who died today at the Lekki Toll Gate Massacre, the people who have been dying throughout the past two weeks. The people whose death sparked these protests. I see you. The world sees you. Your efforts will not be forgotten.

If you are reading this and you are someone who prays, I implore you to pray for Nigeria, pray for a country that bleeds. If you are not, please send out all the positive energy and thoughts you can send towards Nigeria, and Nigerians. Lastly to all the Nigerians of the UMBC community you can go to UMBC’s statement related to the protests so that you may access resources to help you cope with the situation.

There are so many injustices happening around the world (Namibia, Congo, Cameroon, Armenia to name only a few) and sometimes the whole mountain of it can be depressing. The one thing we have to remember is to keep fighting against injustice and oppression and that our movements are connected. We must think globally and act locally.

To learn more about this critical issues and to keep up with movement here or in Nigeria, here are some social media accounts you may want to follow:

• @endsarsdmv (Instagram)
• @endsarsnyc (Instagram)
• @officialendsarsresponse (Instagram)
• @savvyrinu (Twitter)
• @Aishayesufu (Twitter)

Relationship Violence Awareness Month (RVAM) brings people together to create and generate discussion and skill-building on how to prevent relationship violence in our schools, workplaces, and communities. While providing support and care to survivors of relationship violence is an everyday action, this awareness month also carves out intentional moments to honor and believe survivors’ stories and experiences. As we continue this work throughout the pandemic, it is also critical for us to consider how the intersections of covid-19 and social isolation have exacerbated relationship violence over the past several months.  

Since most of campus remains learning and working remotely, we won’t be able to physically come together this October to do this critical work in person. The Women’s Center and all of our campus partners including the Office of Equity and Inclusion, University Health Services, the Counseling Center, Green Dot, We Believe You, and Retriever Courage, and more will nonetheless continue to promote awareness and prevention this month.

We are now in week 3 of our learning about relationship violence from different perspectives, and this week is about The Matrix of Oppression. We are focusing on how people at different marginalized intersections experience power-based violence. This round-up features resources for Indigenous survivors, LGBTQIA+ survivors, Women of Color, and Black women.

Please take time to click, read, and learn at your own pace.

The National Indigenous Women’s Resource Center has online resources ranging from brochures to webinars. They even have a webinar on how to safely seek help for survivors with pets.

This presentation on domestic violence from WOC, Inc. pays special attention to the issue within Black/African-American communities, Asian/Pacific Islander communities, Hispanic/Latinx communities, and North American Native communities.

For many survivors, police presence only makes their situation more dangerous and stressful. This is especially true for survivors of color that fear for the life of their abuser. This Huffington Post article provides alternative strategies for bystanders that want to help, but aren’t 100% about dialing 9-1-1.

LGBTQIA+ survivors often have a hard time accessing support when they experience violence due to homophobia, transphobia, and heteronormative beliefs about what abuse looks like. The National Coalition Against Domestic Violence provides stats and framing in this blog post to raise awareness for the gravity of this problem.