I’m sorry if I seem uninterested

Or I’m not listenin’ or I’m indifferent

Truly, I ain’t got no business here.

Alessia Caracciolo, known as Alessia Cara, is a Canadian singer. In 2015, she had a breakout debut single, “Here.” Billboard listed it as one of the top 25 songs of 2015 and described it as “the anthem for those fed up with the glut of pop songs about partying and drinking.”

As 2024 looms nearer, I assert we can use Cara’s 2015 breakout song and apply it to education advocacy and activist work.

By the end of 2022, I was pissed off and jaded. It was getting close to the two year anniversary of my dad’s death. I was still trudging through my doctorate program, and I was part of so much education advocacy work. 

Advisory committees – I was on them.

Listening tours – I attended them to sound off.

Publications – I wrote article after article.

Social justice organizations – I became a member.

Panels – I was on them.

Media – I gave statements.

Social media – I participated in numerous campaigns.

On top of that, I was a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, an auntie, an entrepreneur, a mentor, a friend, a college professor, and a gardener.

I was tired. I was tired from trying to balance all the commitments on top of grieving my father and knowing that every step closer to graduation was another step closer to crossing the stage without him yelling and cheering in the audience.

I began thinking, “I ain’t got no business here,” despite people asserting I was needed on their committee or for yet another project.

They needed me because I was young, Black, female, smart, committed, and tenacious. I was told, “Shawnta, you know we don’t have any Black people on this committee,” or “Shawnta, this committee is full of boomers; we need young blood,” or “You actually read the emails and get your part done on time every time.”

Meeting after meeting, I could hear Cara’s chorus booming in my head:

Oh-oh-oh here, oh-oh-oh here

Oh, I ask myself what am I doing here?

Oh-oh-oh here, oh-oh-oh here

And I can’t wait ’til we can break up out of here

When I could no longer answer the question “What am I doing here?” for myself, I decided to bounce. On January 1, 2023, I started scheduling emails to be delivered at a later date. The date was after I participated in my doctorate graduation at IU Bloomington in May 2023.

The recipients were organizations or groups I was simply done with. To stick with Cara’s message, I leaned heavily into one of the verses in “Here.”

Excuse me if I seem a little unimpressed with this

An anti-social pessimist, but usually I don’t mess with this

And I know you mean only the best

And your intentions aren’t to bother me

But honestly I’d rather be…

She goes on to explain what she would rather be doing instead of being at the party. When I was sitting in meeting after meeting unimpressed with the progress, when I had to put up with being demonized for how I selectively socialize, and when I was thinking about where I could be instead, I had to chuck the deuce and roll out.

When people reached out to ask me to reconsider and believed it was a knee-jerk reaction from being exhausted from my doctorate program, I was able to stand on my no. I knew it wasn’t an overnight decision. I counted the costs of being there and saw little fruits for the labor.

I know the hand of education justice isn’t always swift, but some organizations are straight up playing in our faces, collecting coins (grants) and producing absolutely no results.

Black elders say, “Be quiet.”

I say, “Naw.”

We have been quiet long enough. 

How is being quiet working for you?

For three years, I was on the IDOE Cultural Competency Advisory Council under the last superintendent of education, Dr. Jennifer McCormick. Currently, we have an appointed secretary of education instead of an elected superintendent of education. At one meeting, I said, “What have we actually done? What are our tangible results?”

I’m about to steal one of my auntie’s favorite phrases. “It was so quiet that you could hear a mouse piss on cotton.” The phrase has an edge to it that “It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop” doesn’t have.

I also asked the Indianapolis NAACP what they did. I served on the NAACP education committee for five years and eventually joined the NAACP. I’m pretty sure my membership has probably lapsed. 

I was one of the people who helped with the Indiana Black Academic Excellence Plan…only for my name to be butchered by Black folks at the press hearing about the plan.

I was told to look at the website. People love directing people to out-of-date websites. I told them I had looked at the website before inquiring. I never got an answer, but I really wanted one. An opportunity did present itself.

Last year, my dad’s oldest living brother was hospitalized. I went to see him, and the Indy NAACP’s vice president was at his bedside. She is my uncle’s ex-wife. I tried to find out what the organization was doing and still couldn’t get an answer that I can articulate here. 

When people are in the trenches doing work, and they don’t even know the purpose or end goal outside of whatever the mission and vision statements say, that is a problem.

If you are thinking, what am I doing here? or thinking these two lines from another verse in the song: 

How did it ever come to this?

I should’ve never come to this.

Here are some points for consideration when deciding if that education advocacy and/or activist organization is really worth your time in 2024:

• Evaluate whether the organization’s mission and vision align with your personal values and goals.

• Consider whether your contributions are directly contributing to the organization’s stated mission.

• Reflect on the concrete outcomes and results achieved by the organization and look for tangible impact. 

• Assess the impact of your involvement on your personal well-being, especially considering external factors such as family commitments and professional obligations.

• Prioritize self-care and establish boundaries. Ensure that your involvement in advocacy work does not compromise your mental, emotional, or physical well-being.

• Evaluate how efficiently the organization utilizes resources, including time, talent, and treasure (money).

• Analyze the organization’s communication practices. Are they transparent about their goals, strategies, and outcomes?

• Examine the organization’s commitment to diverse thoughts and fostering belonging.

• Ensure that your unique perspective and background are valued and the organization promotes a diverse (gender, age, race, etc.) and inclusive environment.

• Consider whether leaders are responsive, open to feedback, and actively working towards the organization’s goals

• Assess the organization’s long-term sustainability. Does the organization have a succession plan? 

• Evaluate the organization’s ability to adapt to changing circumstances, retain members, and continue its mission effectively over time.

I felt a sense of relief and joy when those emails reached their recipients. I’ve sacrificed too much time with my own children while fighting for other people’s children.

Now, there is more balance in my life. I am carrying that balance into 2024.

I’ll leave you all with a haiku that’s in my book “Reflective Haiku: Poems for Growing, Healing, and Restoring the Soul.”

Goodbye Explanations

“Demand me nothing.”

Are you satisfied? If so,

release explaining.

The hardest part of walking away is people trying to pull you back.

“Demand me nothing” is a line from Shakespeare’s “Othello.” The character Iago says this instead of explaining his actions.

In other words, long explanations about why a person is leaving are not necessary, and if people are trying to persuade a person to come back, that person should say no.

No is a complete sentence, and “What am I doing here?” should never run on repeat in people’s heads when they are doing education advocacy work.