You should ‘call in Black to work’ today.
This is your permission slip to call in Black today.
This week, this year, this decade, this century, this eternity has been so hard. To be in a constant swirl of rage, sadness, despair, pain, numbness, and dissociation is exhausting. It’s debilitating. And that’s on top of the general stress of living and caregiving and working through a preventable pandemic that’s mostly killing Black people, and racism, and economic crisis, a never-ending election season, shuttling people to their appointments, and oh yeah that decision we’re waiting on the Supreme Court to drop. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. You deserve at least a day off. You deserve to call in Black to work.
You shouldn’t have to pretend to be okay. You shouldn’t have to think about trivial shit like which word would have the most impact on a graphic that four people are going to ‘like,’ or who is going to take notes during the next meeting. You’re trying to work through trauma—and you shouldn’t have to.
You shouldn’t have to muster up the courage to ask for the day off. It should be preemptively offered. But in case it’s not, will you call in Black to work today?
I know you’re psyching yourself up to put on a brave face for that next strategy session or check in with your team. I know because I’m doing it too. I’m keeping an eye on messages from family and friends at the protests in the Twin Cities while trying to focus on the conference call. I’m doing my best to manage staff while watching a city that I consider a second home—with half of my family—burns. And I’m answering emails while reading news updates that, once again, white prosecutors aren’t sure if police officers’ actions—that the whole world can see—are punishable by law. I am both trying to keep going and then stop as yet another name scrolls through the feed. My neck hurts from the whiplash. Then, again, I wonder, what the fuck am I doing all this for?
I should call in Black to work today.
I cry. I consider giving up. I disassociate. Then I get back to work knowing how unsustainable it is. Yes, I am telling you to take the day off, but can’t muster the courage to do it myself. I know. But that’s how trauma works.
The anger, frustration, and stress only grows as we see our colleagues laughing about trivial shit. When I see my colleagues question why people are ‘destroying their own community,’ I just want to throw my own computer against the wall. The centuries of fury, of societal inaction, of despair—that’s why. No one should have to know this indignation.
The virtue signaling social media posts, the ones that offer condolences one second and move on the next, ring hollow as we see the outcry of leaders and colleagues —only because they watched the horrendous video—yet white women who openly fling microaggressions (like Amy Cooper, say) and spew dog whistle comments that lead up that moment sit prominently on our board of directors and in our offices. And, because there’s barely a mention of the day’s events during the meetings that move forward as usual.
I am feeling a constant state of rage. I know you are too. Make a commitment with me: Let’s call in Black today.
Let’s take the time we need, or at least one full fucking day, to rest and care for our souls. Take the time to savor the fleeting moments we have with our families. There’s more to life than these deadlines. Disrupt the forces of white supremacy that are telling you to work today. Take a break. Call a friend. You do not need to produce. They can wait a few days for that email reply. Tend to yourself first.
Call in Black to work today. Just do it.
Resources curated by @MayaRichardsun on Twitter and Instagram