Hitting Rock Bottom
“It’s been a long time, I shouldn’t of left you,
Without a dope beat to step to”
What do you do when you’re at your lowest? I have spent the past four months feeling like Chicken Little when he said, “the sky is falling, the sky is falling!!” What exactly is wrong? Well, we are currently in the middle of a collective shift, coping with the likes of a pandemic, systemic injustices, and all the like. So much has happened since I published my last article on May 10, 2020. People were confronted with the realities of the inherent racism that many black folks face daily, only finding this out due to the tragic deaths of Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd, and countless other black deaths throughout history. We’ve had these conversations, whether they’re over the dinner table, at the store, or via Social Media. Luvvie Ajayi talks about it in her June 2020 article, Maybe It’s Time to Lose Your Trash Friends. Ajayi states, “ Everybody is saying, “Black lives matter” and a lot of them were people who, last week, were quiet. I respect it. Thank you for speaking out now. But the real work is going to come and it’s going to challenge people you love. It’s going to make them uncomfortable.” As a trans-racial adoptee, I know this all too well. I’ll be sure to write a separate article on that soon…
The pandemic shifted the ways in which we navigated the world. One facet, working from home, became the new normal for me. I acknowledged that privilege and used it for good. My company had (most of) the proper infrastructure to assure a smooth transition, but the social aspect of work overall changed. As an active member of our black employee resource group, like many of the other neighboring companies, we were completing our 9:00–5:00 jobs whilst being tasked with “fixing” tech’s race problem. I started a Slack group with my trusted colleagues, creating a dialogue where we collectively agreed that we were indeed not okay.
Was leadership addressing this? Were they even saying anything at all? No, and no. Our CEO eventually published a statement, as did many others, but the onus was still being put onto the BIPOC employees. Many of my coworkers dedicated days and sleepless nights advocating and demanding change. Zoom calls and town halls were being facilitated by leadership, as well as lengthy LinkedIn posts. While the PR aspect of this was being fulfilled, the question remained; where was this energy before? On the flipside, I felt at the top of my game, collectively galvanizing alongside some of the strongest voices in tech and making history. However, my world changed on June 12th, 2020.
The stark reality of unemployment hit me. I joined the 3.3 million black Americans that found themselves unemployed in June, compared to 3.2 million in April, and 1.2 million in January. I was ripped away from a huge family of individuals with whom I was working since May 2019, in the matter of minutes. Seeing a calendar invite for a “quick sync” with your People Business Partner and Head of Recruiting is never a good sign. My spidey senses told me that doomsday was here, and by 9:30am I was deactivated from Slack and filing for unemployment.
I left behind my first “big girl job,” having joined a startup with over 1,500 employees in the Financial District of San Francisco. My commute from the East Bay to Powell Street Station, next to the hundreds of thousands of sleepy-eyed travelers on the 7:25am train was part of my circadian rhythm.
“10 car, 3 door San Francisco Millbrae train now approaching platform 2,” echoed through the station speakers if I was lucky enough to get one of the new trains. My colleagues would often joke that the nice trains never ran on the Richmond line and when they did, it was short of a miracle. Hurling my Timbuktu backpack as I ran up the escalator (when they worked…), I dodged for the first open seat on the train Monday through Friday, 52 weeks a year. While most us commuters were apathetic, it was my life for the last two years. It kept me moving towards the bright future I strove for daily.
I’m going to be brutally candid; I felt very sad after getting laid off. I lost a huge piece of my happiness, my family, my little peace [sic] of normal. I became used to the weekly happy hour on Fridays, talking mess with my colleagues about the happenings on Slack and our endless inside jokes (#yeehaw, anyone?). I felt empowered to facilitate one-on-one Zoom calls with senior leaders, asking them tough questions and pushing for change. This work towards improving the parts of my life that I did have control over made it easier to cope with the things that I did not. Once that was taken away from me, I had to take a hard look in the mirror.
“Alexa, play ‘Superwoman’ by Alicia Keys.”
While I wasn’t leaving a romantic relationship, the relationship with what was already a new normal was suddenly stripped away. Who was I without my career? I put so much blood, sweat and tears into getting here. After countless 3 hour long FaceTime calls with friends, lots of crying, twerking in the mirror to City Girls, and reading Alicia’s book cover-to-cover, I shifted my mindset and saw the glass half full. I applied those fruitful lessons learned so far and turned them inward.
Introspection helped me kick start the healing process and become more acutely aware of the abilities I possess. I rose in my power and realized one of the things that I love most; writing. I decided to do the necessary work and pick up my pen. This journey is not easy, but it is a vital and necessary part of the process. Intention is allowing me to readily accept what all is to come to fruition as I put forth my passions.
I am going to continue writing, unapologetically and wholly. I’m not here to chase perfection by any means, but rather lay down the foundation for how I want to see the world. My intention is to strengthen my knowledge, fight for justice and expand my insights.
Take this journey with me.
