I Am Courageous!

Black African Female: these are descriptors commonly used to profile me. I don't object to

any of these because they are used to aid those who will meet me in getting a sense of what to expect. They are (only partial) descriptors of 'what’ I am. They are not descriptors of 'who’ I am.

Over the years, in my professional life and as a mom and wife, there have been numerous occasions (too many to count) on which I have found myself in spaces as the only black person, or amongst the minority, in rooms filled with whiteness. This hasn’t preoccupied me until recently when I experienced a profound ‘AHA!’ moment.

At that moment, I was recognised and acknowledged for being courageous and in that instant, I saw my courage and the role it has played in leading me through predominantly white spaces, possibly all my life. I saw the courage that I exhibit every time, representing a minority, I show up. My courage holds me up so that even if I stand out, I stay. My courage contains me as I enter and traverse new and unfamiliar spaces. My courage envelops me until moments down the line, I see myself enjoying being there.

What was so peculiar this time around? Was it about the well-orchestrated welcome I experienced that evening over zoom? Was it about the fact that the welcome poem that they read set my anxiety at ease? Was it because I didn't have that feeling that I usually experience in similar settings, the feeling that leads me to question why and how I find myself in these spaces? Was it because, upon entering, I immediately identified that this forum would create space for me to make my mark?

Never have I witnessed someone language what it takes for me, as a black female, to continuously exist as a minority in white spaces. I realised that evening that there is a deliberate effort that goes into embracing newcomers into spaces where they are not represented. Chances are, if unwelcomed, they will not return or they will not commit. I wasn't the only one beginning this journey that fateful night, the sentiments we shared were similar. What was important for both of us was feeling seen, not simply as Black African Females, but as human beings who possessed a myriad of qualities that were recognised in an affirming way.

I felt seen as someone who has lived through an array of rich experiences, experiences that have moulded and shaped my perspectives and created wisdom within me that they anticipated I would share. They saw more than what I, and the one who ushered me in, were capable of expressing in the minutes we were afforded.

I have never acknowledged to myself that it takes courage to navigate the spaces and places that do not represent me. I know now that I endure these circumstances that don't explicitly welcome me in. I stay even though the introduction is reductionist and the welcome, skimpy.

I can recall many spaces where the first engagement merely focused on the protocols and standards that defined behaviours deemed acceptable. There was little by way of upholding me and possibly more by way of prescribing to me.

Maybe I am still basking in the glory of an awesome introduction and welcome ceremony into what could have been a nerve-wracking experience. Maybe it’s because, in other spaces, it takes a whole lot longer for one’s unconfirmed virtues to get noticed, and yet, I do not cower. I show up, and often I smile as a way to diffuse the rising tension. I stand firm and extend myself wholeheartedly in the hope that sooner and not later, my value will be seen.

It is courage that keeps me going even when I am intimidated: when I don't feel the connection, and when I don’t feel the warm embrace and acceptance that is possible, even on zoom. We shouldn't blame the platform or the setting in which we meet.

I now know - through reflection - that in the past, I have not been afforded the space to be truly understood. I know that I endured the fear of potentially being side-lined. I kept at it even though I was not seen. I didn't concede, for deep down, I knew that there was nothing to conclude.

Why do I write about my story? In describing myself as courageous, I recognise my power. When I language my experience, I can share my sentiments with others. Some will relate and others will not. If they don’t, they can define their own experience. I write because I trust and rely on the courage that I possess to lead me to greater heights. I write because it helps me to figure out how I navigated my journey. I write to acknowledge the things about me that serve me. I write to motivate myself and even cheer myself on. I am spirited when I write. It fulfils me. Finally, I write because I would never have acknowledged to myself that I am courageous if I didn’t take the time to reflect and write about my experience that fateful night, yet courage is what has led me this far. Now, this is "who" I am.

“At that moment, I was recognised and acknowledged for being courageous and in that instant, I saw my courage and the role it has played in leading me through predominantly white spaces, possibly all my life..”