Showing up real takes courage.
I'll go first.
As a child, I wielded more power than a grown Black woman.
Margaret was beautiful and beloved, yet tough as nails. Keeper of the switch. Master of the kitchen.
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But despite her necessity to my grandmother's well-being during summer months, her room was downstairs.
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It was never discussed but always understood, Margaret was different. We were 'above' her.
What else wasn't said?
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That our status and wealth was built on the foundation of their labor - generations of Black men and women - for I am a child of antebellum ancestors with a name inherited from a United States president.
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Camera in hand, I stepped out of my southern cocoon to stretch, climb, question. To breathe. To go where a name couldn't unlock doors.
The result? Viral content -- not because of how it looks, but how it makes you feel.
What's my secret sauce? An acute awareness that people are shaped by social realities. And a firm belief that....
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We are all human and therefore equal. Yet, power structures at play don't allow us to see each other as equals.
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That's why we need knowledge grounded in fact to increase our collective understanding and empathy.
We must realize the stories we've told ourselves aren't necessarily true - the truth is a lot more nuanced because humans are messy.
And we need keepers of this knowledge and lived experience to step up and be heard - and to hold up a mirror.
We need their complex ideas translated into simple language while acknowledging the dignity and worth of everyone.
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When knowledge is shared, we will no longer be blind to the ripple effect of our decisions.
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We will own our privilege and have words to express it.
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And when we do, we'll influence everyone around us.
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Ultimately, collective conscience and empathy will rise. We will create a world that sings instead of shouts.
It all starts with you.
You, who sees the world for what it could be.
You, who is determined to make a difference.
You who is ready to dig deeper to reach higher heights.
I wanted to be humbled by my unimportant place in the world.
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And so, I traveled in search of answers to questions I couldn't define.
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The farther away from home, the more alive I felt.
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Every assignment as a photojournalist challenged me to sink into the environment, quickly figure out dynamics at play, and understand all that was not being said.
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I saw famine and the ripple effect of war.
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I documented breakdowns in basic services after natural disasters.
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I spoke with people cemented in polar opposite beliefs.
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No matter the location, language or culture, I could connect and earn enough trust to tell a story.
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Then, I came home to raise three children while documenting the inner workings of higher-ed communities. I met faculty, staff and students at their comfort level, then coached them even higher to communicate ideas with head and heart.
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