Postpone the Boycott

As much as I am a fan of solidarity, I will not be joining in on the boycott of Dove products. Not just because I recently purchased a three pack of the beauty bar. And my refusal to boycott isn’t because I’m obsessed with how my 6 year old smells after he bathes with it, or its “ ¼cup of moisturizing cream.” It’s bigger than that. First of all, I love their empowerment campaign for girls. Secondly, I see how Dove has continuously tries to celebrate diversity in body size, age and skin color.

Sure, they’ve failed in the past, and more recently they failed miserably with their wash away the dirty black skin ad. But I don’t think it was intentional. Suspect, but not intentional. However, it does bring up a point. If Dove wants to celebrate diversity, where the hell was their Dre Johnson from Blackish when they were sitting around brainstorming?

Why wasn’t there at least one woke ass Black person at the table telling whoever shared that idea that it was racially insensitive as FUCK. I mean, what good are diversity ads if there  is no diversity behind the scenes and up the executive ladder?  

I’m hoping that after being called out like they sooooo rightfully deserved, Dove will make some changes.  Major changes. But who knows, maybe I’m wrong and they really do think we’re dirty, or that our skin is “dark” and not “normal.” But because I’m consumed with combatting so much other extreme hatred & racial injustice, if Dove wants me to boycott them, they are going to have to be a bit more blatant.  

When Black Women Lead

This will be a great opportunity to network, I thought, to expose my talents to professionals from a different demographic, i.e. White people. However, after our initial welcoming event, I wondered how I’d force myself to open to people unlike me. There were so many of them and so little of us (because you know we count in a room sparse with people of color). When we took our class photo I purposely tried to stand away from the other three black women, three Latino women, and the one black man, so it’d look a bit more …colorful. Still, as we prepared for our weekend retreat and official initiation into Leadership Pioneer Valley, I prepared myself to code switch. It’s what we do, change our speech style, volume, body language and vocabulary to mirror mainstream America. We drop the colloquialisms; avoid being our true selves to not offend, intimidate, or perpetuate negative cultural stereotypes. For some of us code switching is fluid and easy, and we never had to be taught; it was learned by watching. I was ready for it.

 To my surprise, the way our differences were brought to the forefront right from the beginning by executive director Lora Wondolowski, made me feel comfortable with just being me( in all my Black girl magic), without fear of making others uncomfortable or feeling like what I said or did represented all of us. This was just the beginning of the many lessons I learned throughout the 10-month program for emerging leaders in Western Massachusetts.  Without giving away all the details (because you should totally check it out yourself), I learned to listen more and react less. Through constant internal evaluation, that everything wasn’t crucial or warranted my input. I didn’t have to take over or take charge, but that I could earn be “happy enough” with the consensus. My strengths were validated and there were strategies I could immediately implement on the day job as well as in my entrepreneurial work.  In the end, it was way more than a list of new contacts, it was realizing how we all benefit from honest, uncomfortable discussions and the value of effectively using your voice. It was building collaborative relationships, friendships, and a new perspective of myself as well the Pioneer Valley.

Class of 2017. A great group of people

Bad Ass Lora Wondolowski, executive director of LPV, handing me my diploma

 For more information about applying for to be a part of class of 2018, visit www.leadershippv.org