Last night, I found myself staring at my laptop, another strategic plan half-finished on my screen. The house was quiet – that special kind of quiet that comes after the kids are asleep when the weight of our work can finally settle fully on our shoulders. I’ve been carrying something heavy lately, and I suspect you have too.
In this moment of heightened scrutiny around DEI work and withdrawal of funding, we’re facing what feels like a stark choice between risk management and social justice approaches. Many of us feel caught between focusing on legal compliance and organizational safety or pushing forward with deeper systemic change. These tensions reflect broader questions about organizational change itself: how fast can it happen, how should it happen, and what compromises are we willing to make along the way?
This isn’t just about DEI strategy – it’s about how we navigate transformation in complex systems.
When we adapt our language or adjust our approach, are we being strategic, or are we betraying our principles? As funding gets cut and programs are shuttered, these questions become more than theoretical – they touch the heart of both our mission and our livelihoods. Yet within these challenges lies an opportunity to reimagine how we create lasting change.
Something changed for me recently in an unexpected way. I never thought I’d find wisdom in a halftime show—especially since I’m not even a football fan. But watching Kendrick Lamar perform at the halftime show of the Superbowl, I saw something powerful: resistance has many faces.
Sometimes resistance is artistry and symbolism. Sometimes it is quiet pivots that empower and protect our community or neighbors. Sometimes it shows up in a perfectly executed strategy meeting that looks nothing like rebellion on the surface. And sometimes, it looks like patient perseverance.
The Heart of the Matter 💫
The push toward risk management approaches isn’t simple regression – it’s more nuanced than that. Those opposing DEI efforts aren’t monolithic, and their concerns, whether we agree with them or not, tell us something important about the systems we’re trying to change. Some fear loss of power, others genuine disruption to organizational effectiveness, and many are simply trying to navigate their own relationship with change.
Think about transformation like a butterfly’s metamorphosis: it requires specific conditions, careful preparation, and distinct stages. Each stage serves its purpose. Sometimes what looks like stepping back might actually be gathering strength. What appears to be compromise might be creating the conditions necessary for deeper change. And sometimes, what feels like slowing down is actually about building a more sustainable foundation.
I’ve been thinking about how those who uphold systemic inequity have long practiced integrating their philosophy into our institutions, systems, and cultures. It makes me question: Should we adopt similar tactics for positive change? Can we be both strategic and authentic? These aren’t comfortable questions, but they’re necessary ones. Perhaps the answer lies not in mimicking these tactics, but in understanding how deep change emerges when we remain grounded in liberatory practices. It’s about holding space for both strategic wisdom and our unwavering commitment to freedom and dignity.
Where We Go From Here 🌱
Key Insights for Leaders:
- When we focus on risk management, we’re not necessarily abandoning social justice – we might be creating space for it to take root more deeply.
- Measuring impact isn’t just about proving value – it’s about understanding where we’re actually making a difference.
- Sometimes the most radical act is staying in the room, even when we have to speak a different language to do so.
Late last night, after finally closing my laptop, I remembered something important: Every significant social change has gone through periods of ebb and flow. Those who came before us faced similar moments of apparent retreat, only to find new ways forward.
What looks like a retreat might actually be recalibration. What feels like a compromise might be composting – breaking down old structures to nurture new growth. What seems like slowing down might be gathering momentum.
We’re not just surviving this moment; we’re learning how to thrive within it. And maybe that’s its own kind of resistance. In the end, perhaps the most radical act is maintaining our commitment to transformation while being wise about how we get there.
I’d love to hear your stories of navigation and adaptation. How are you finding your way through this moment? What unexpected challenges and breakthroughs have you encountered?
Click here to schedule a discovery call with us—we’d love to talk it through with you.
