I have been in the service business for 35 years, yet I have never liked the word “service.” As a Black woman, the word feels demeaning. As a human, it feels soulless, transactional, and my experience working with folks is anything but transactional. It is deep and emotional. Blackness is magnificent. Womanhood is powerful. I was lucky enough to be given both these gifts, and I come to service with them. This could never be transactional. I do not simply pretend to care about what you care about. I do care. That is not service, that is not transaction, that is connection.
I am a bureaucrat, an arts administrator. I spend much of my time pushing paper, and it has been my pleasure to push paper. I take it very seriously. On its face, this is another transactional experience, but working with someone and taking them through the system to eventual success is a triumph. The human interaction in getting folks to their destination is the real work, and it is the part of my job that I love.
Bureaucracy has historically been used as a dangerous and powerful tool to exclude Black and brown people. As a Black woman creative, I truly believe that bureaucracy can likewise be a powerful tool for equity. Paper can be a great equalizer. For paperwork to have the effect of inclusion, it must be nimble in language and application, it must be flexible and dynamic in response to the needs of a constantly changing population, it must speak many languages, and it must be equally accessible to all. I love nothing more than to help an unlikely organizer get access to public space, to test the administrative process, to shine daylight onto the flaws and inequities in the system. I have always concentrated on the slow, steady moves — the slow tide that erodes a cliff face. All the paper I touch represents a person.
I am always surprised that my value has increased over the years, but the work I have done is always the same. I have been elevated by witnessing the success of others. In my deeply biased observations, I have redefined what success means to me and my work. My love for and my commitment to the success of my community has deepened over time. I realize that in my current position, I have the good luck to be able to really engage with folks. Slow and steady, a slow tide, never a tsunami, bit by bit, minute by minute, this is how the work gets done. I will continue to use my position to wring out every bit of access that I can into our community. It is my sacred responsibility.
