The airwaves are overflowing with the voices of people who haven't been heard for too long. There's not much that I should be saying right now. And what could I say? I'm sorry I haven't done more. I'm sorry I didn't know how bad it was. I'm sorry my grandparents benefitted from government programs that enabled them to enjoy the growing middle class, while our sisters and brothers of color were left on the sidelines. It wasn't fair and it still isn't. We need to make so many changes. I've been trying to do my part this past month, pushing diversity initiatives in the workplace (from recruiting more under-represented minorities in STEM to smaller things like our company's first annual Juneteenth picnic) and educating myself about systemic problems through films and books, all the while trying to avoid performative allyship. My community here in Oakland has been so impressive: brave, strong, resilient. I feel fortunate to be surrounded by people fighting to better our world. Activist-artists have turned the city into their canvas, and I absolutely have to share the beauty that's been born from the people's suffering. It's extraordinary to see the city transformed into a living art exhibit. Maybe, just maybe, there's reason to be hopeful that the changes we need are coming.
