My Beloved Community,
I could write my year-end letter to you, my community, and try to capture the past year. I could simply list the places we visited, the titles of the people we met with, the presentations we attended and those we facilitated. Each of our experiences were far more than just an agenda or a script or an itinerary—they were mirrors reflecting truths we needed to see and windows offering glimpses into new possibilities. Every single interaction felt like that. They were so meaningful and I will hold them with me forever. In many ways, 2024 has been wonderful. However…
Over the past few weeks, my soul has been cracked wide open.
In late October, BIPOC ED Coalition invited me into the woods of Whidbey Island as part of a cohort retreat. My time there was beyond anything I might have expected. It was a challenging, messy, and a profoundly healing time with a lovely group of people. I have been seeking community with those whom I could be in deep knowing and understanding. It feels as though every conversation, every opportunity, was like a push toward somewhere beyond myself. I found this and more on Whidbey Island. The food, meditation, and dialogue was everything.
As November 5th drew closer, I felt hopeful. I share an identity with Kamala Harris and many of her policy plans aligned with my personal values. Conversely, the other candidate is not someone I would ever want to be in a room with, let alone choose to run the country. As the results became clear, I felt stunned, disappointed, and confused. Timing was not in my favor, as I needed to be on a flight at 5am the morning after the election. I spent that day traveling to Louisiana with a mixture of fatigue and suspicion. Utterly down.
I spent the next eight days in New Orleans, and truthfully, there is no other place I would have rather been. I was part of the facilitation team for Gathering By The River: A Relational Repair Convening held by the Compton Foundation. Every moment for me was about trying to make sense of it all—anticipating what would come next, but also wanting/needing to have a say in what would come next. And what that next would be. Every moment for me included a yearning to feel safe, needed, and whole.
I could have been doing this in our Sankofa Impact office in Seattle, but instead, I was with about 100 others, holding space for the possibilities of relational repair and various ways that reparations could look. New Orleans has always called to me. My ancestors speak to me there. I feel closer to them there. And we called on them many times throughout Gathering By The River. It only felt right that relational repair is also about repairing all that was wrong and harmful for them.
The other reality of this work is about being in relationship—with all of you. It’s about witnessing moments of pain and joy, exhaustion and resilience, questions and answers, anger and hope. I see you, I value your dignity and worth. Because you are, I am.
The “work” is not just ongoing but evolving, spiraling back onto itself, beginning again in a way that feels different, with a new kind of energy. When I think about my time at the retreat, the election, my time in New Orleans, I can’t help but feel hopeful. My healing is your healing. Mary J Blige said, “Life can be only what you make it.” As our ancestors before us, let us pick ourselves up and make this life extraordinary.
Felicia Ishino, Executive Director
