In this blog series, I’ve spoken about my commitment to racial equity and undoing the damage systemic racism has caused all of us. I’ve called out performative allyship, stressing that authentic engagement must come from gut-level and heart-level understanding, born of personal experiences that reveal the real benefits of DEI work. One question that lingers, even if unvoiced, is: Why? As a white person, even my own mother once asked me, “Why don’t you like white people? Why don’t you seem to trust people like you?”

Where do Jews fit in DEI conversations? This blog explores the complexities of Jewish identity in diversity, equity, and inclusion spaces, challenging assumptions and addressing the erasure of Jewish voices. Through personal reflection and real-life stories, it examines how oversimplifications undermine the core values of DEI and calls for a more inclusive approach that honors all lived experiences. Dive in to uncover how we can evolve the conversation to truly embrace empathy, compassion, and the richness of our collective diversity.

In tense moments, the question “Is it because I’m White?” (or Black, Latino, or Asian) often comes up when race seems to explain what's happening. While race plays a role, it’s usually not the whole story.

In recent years, Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) has become a focal point in workplaces, schools, and communities across the nation. But for DEI and racial equity to truly succeed, it’s essential to go beyond conversations and implement practices that support healing and embodiment. Why? Because the stress of racism and discord impacts everyone’s health—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Be Strong Families has charged itself with doing the work it takes to be an organization that promotes equity in everything we do and as part of who we are. We know that part of equity leadership is consciousness — the value of centering equity, the desire to lead equitably. Part of equity leadership is creating a culture of inclusion and minding how we relate to each other; part of equity leadership is hardwired into policy.

I have been really disturbed by recent events to the point of hopeless confusion verging on paralysis. I rarely go on social media and my news-following is seriously limited, but still, stuff creeps in. The consensus, no matter which side of political and ethical issues you’re on, seems to be that the forces of evil are winning. So what to do when the darkness seems to be consistently overwhelming the light? Remember Einstein saying: “No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it.” We need to transcend.

Illinois YAB was created by statute to give youth ages 14-21 in the care of IDCFS the opportunity to provide feedback on service delivery, programs, and policies that affect them, toward ensuring that all youth are optimally cared for and supported regardless of race, color, sex, national origin, ancestry, language, handicap/disability, or religion. Illinois YAB is committed to youth empowerment, development, leadership, and achievement.

True white allies are more than willing to extend the conversation about black history beyond a designated month. They engage at a deep level that requires time and understanding of the tragedies and triumphs, the trauma and resilience, and the ingenuity and genius of people who have continuously been reduced to the “other”. The thorough investigation of black history leads to a more powerful, historically-informed lens of equity to understand present dynamics of structural racism, generational poverty, and educational/health disparities.

“Equity" has become a hot topic in organizational spaces. But how deep does that commitment actually go? This reflection on the origins of Black History Month and the ongoing marginalization of African American history is a challenge to white allies to go further than February and further than comfortable.