Lessons from behind the chair: A Series
Lesson 1: to be a young, gifted, black unicorn in politics.
Lessons from behind the chair is going to be a series based on the lessons I’ve learned from my time sitting behind influential chairs, making decisions and all what comes with that. I’ve often said to people, “you don’t know what it’s like until you’re sitting in the chair” and I truly mean that. It’s like being Captain Kirk or Admiral Janeway traversing the galaxy — you boldly go and you never know what’s going to happen until you’re in it. My experiences are no different from so many, but I hope that you, as you follow along, and read or listen, you take from it what you will in hope that it helps you navigate the spaces you’re in.
So let’s go — Lesson 1.
Young, gifted and black
Oh what a lovely precious dream — Nina Simone
I grew up in a military family, so “service” is a huge part of my existence. Ingrained in my core is really a duty to be of service to others, especially those in need no matter who they are or their circumstances — everyone deserves to be looked after. My dad was a Marine Corps officer, but before that he was enlisted in the Navy. Despite the fact that we share the same name, looks, and personality, and thus butted heads all my life, I know he was and is brilliant. He was a unicorn in his time. Knowing this made it all the more confusing that the Navy wouldn’t give him a commission in the 80’s after college because he was Black. A logistician, he rose through the ranks and always showed me and my brothers what was achievable, possible, and that if we focused on the work and did right by others, we could be unstoppable*.
I moved to Los Angeles just over a decade ago, after college, after living in New York for a while, and like so many others exactly sure what I was going to do. I started out, if you can believe it, as a Tour Guide at Universal Studios, then went corporate, then went back into the service industry. I went to school for political science, so it made sense that in my spare time I would get more involved in grassroots politics, mostly in the valley (because that’s where I live/d). By the 2016 election I was plucked to join my colleagues at the state party level, and then the county party level, eventually being asked to lead the largest county Democratic Party in the nation as Executive Director. To describe the speed in which things moved after that, would be too difficult to put into words, but things moved quick for various reasons — but it wasn’t hard to see there were a myriad of reasons as to why my trajectory escalated so rapidly — no reason more recognizable than the fact that in a time of post-George Floyd world, I met a necessary moment.
I was the first Black, first LGBTQ, and (at the time) the youngest person to take over the job — a unicorn plucked out of nowhere. I had no idea what was going on, who was who, or what was going to come next. The only thing I did know, was that with a series of “firsts” there was little to no room for error and my only goal was to re-build after a really emotional 2016 election. I admit I was naive and mentally unprepared for the job and the traps that came with it, and honestly, it wasn’t even until after I left the postiion that it all hit me (thank goodness for a good therapist). That being said, I’m not going to downplay my abilities because I’d be doing myself a disservice and diminish the work that was and continues to be accomplished. I’m very good, and very good at what I do; but with accomplishments and “accolades,” comes a series of unimaginable opportunities, and a crippling amount of hate, disgust, and lies — especially when you’re Black, unknown, and you’re not supposed to be there.
From the jump, there was some friction from some unlikely people who I expected would be excited about a young black person coming into a role like this. However, the true magnitude of the job, and how it expanded, wouldn’t come for months later. Honestly, I was half expecting my own people (some of whom are currently running for leadership at the State party level) to say “this is a big deal and I’m ready to make sure this kid has the support he needs.” However, that expectation and the need for mentorship and support, just never quite materialized at any point during my time in the way it should have, which was very difficult for me. As Julie Chen-Moonves says on Big Brother — expect the unexpected. Lesson learned.
I ended up (and frankly so did my predecessor) inheriting a pretty dismal, yet workable, financial situation after an onslaught of mismanagement and legal woes. Couple that with me not having a clue, the exit of a key staff member, an unexpected pandemic, the 2020 California primary, and a brand-new crop of grassroots members coming in expecting the same experience as the previous central committee — all hitting simultaneously, while all eyes are on this young fresh face who people were wary about and expecting not to last — and if there’s anything to know about me, I’m not about that life. In two months, with a new teammate by my side, we turned the ship around and created an operational template and force that was mimicked across the state which SHOULD, if managed correctly, outlast us. Focus on a drama-free agenda was paramount to how I operated, and much like President Obama (or what Ron DeSantis is pretending his administration would be like), I don’t like drama but unbeknown to me, it was coming.
With just two people, we got through the primary, elevated the brand, focused on connecting with new members, and got the train back on the track — and through all of that, I was woefully unaware of what was happening behind me I was woefully unaware of the arrows pointed at me for just doing the job I was continually asked to do. It was odd to me. The people who would call me (we were still in pandemic mode so no meetings), the ones I would spend God-knows how many hours working with them to get them what they wanted, setting them up, and providing them support were the same people who were pulling back the proverbial bows for hit after hit. It was like that from the beginning, and when you’re Black it’s amplified and intensified. I quickly became an easy bullseye for target practice for those who had their own agendas. I’d like to say “I never knew why,” but I know based on the experience of my colleagues in other similar fields, this was par the course when you’re Black and succeeding in a system designed to set you up for failure. Don’t let the hits and lies and challenges consume you.
As a military kid, I didn’t grow up with a lot of close friends or people around me because we moved so much, but it did instill in me an unhealthy habit of trusting people too quickly. We didn’t have time to think about whether or not someone was going to screw us over in the three-year military rotations we did and that seeped into my ability to quickly understand what was happening and do my job. I was accessible, because I wanted to do it differently, and because I thought I could. I made plenty of “friends,” many of whom I am ride-or-die for, but I couldn’t see past the fact that a majority of these people couldn’t see me — they only saw title and opportunity. They used the opportunity to have a young Black leader beside them, to leverage me and the moment to their advantage during a time where Black voices were clamoring to be heard; Opportunity to elevate themselves while using my name and ideas to get what they wanted, and pretending like I didn’t know; Opportunity to be in the presence of others, knowing the door was open because I had championed and advocated for building young leaders up. I was no longer “Drexel,” I was “Drexel Heard the ED” so people could not separate the personal from the professional, even in personal time and spaces. I was a young Black accessible leader to my detriment, mentally and professionally, and people exploited that for their own gain. Pay attention to what people ask of you, and what they want from you. Lesson Learned.
Couple more and I swear I’m done with this lesson.
Like I said, there was no shortage of hits I took for people, for the institution, for whatever nonsense someone cooked up because they were bored. I’m not saying it was healthy, I’m just saying I was focused on other things and I never addressed it head on. Actually, no there were a couple of times I addressed things that were happening only to be told by those who had written the rules and who had had their own agendas, that I had to just take every one of those hits on the chin because it was the job and there was nothing I could do about it. I trusted the people who said they were in my corner, I trusted the people who were closest to me, I trusted that the job I was doing was enough. However, when you’re this young black kid who’s the center of people’s attention, it’s never quite enough. The reality is, people want to say they support certain voices, but that sentiment only comes to fruition when those voices don’t stand in the way of ambition or their need for power. Hit after hit, lie after lie, it all comes down to power and maintaining it, especially when one feels they are being kept from it. When you’re a white kid with less than stellar talent but attempt to use your charm and looks, you can say anything and people will respond in kind. When you’re a Black leader, it is oddly and infinitely more difficult for people to adjust their brains to accept truth and reality. More often than not, they become a cowardly version of themselves, one that we didn’t expect (see “expect the unexpected”), and cowards will always live and lead in fear. A job like that especially in the political arena, is already on its own island, so as you can imagine, it is even more lonely when everyone’s out to protect themselves, and if it comes to a person protecting themselves or the greater good — people will always protect themselves. It’s disappointing, and there are few heavier emotions than disappointment in the people you need to count on and trust.
I’m a fan of Sun Tsu’s The Art of War and he said:
Even the finest sword plunged into salt water will eventually rust.
In the end, trust your gut, and let them rust.
Lastly, Black (and Brown) folks have one thing to hold onto — our name and our reputation. In this political climate, it’s the only thing that keeps us engaged and relevant. Here in Los Angeles for example, I could name every Black politico — maybe a little more than two dozen. There aren’t many, and most of us come from all over the country. It’s something I’ve been personally striving towards to see more involvement as we engage more in electoral politics. Unfortunately, all the Black elected opportunities in LA are congested in one area, and thus we find ourselves in a viscious cycle of running the best against the best over and over and it has the unfortunate consequence of pitting great people against each other. But it’s not just Los Angeles, we’re seeing more and more Black Americans want to step up, and what I have said in many spaces and talk backs to people remains constant— Step up and step with, but don’t step on. I’ve tried to live by that because I believe it, and I’ve tried to lift up the names of those who deserve to be heard and just want the chance. There are enough opportunities and rooms without feeling like you have to tear someone down to lift yourself up. Those who seek harm, and do harm, are not those who deserve anything. Karma will always rear its ugly head, so at what cost is doing harm to others or not supporting their own efforts?
My experience is unique, because the postion is/was unique, but not uncommon as a young Black professional in a political climate. I’d be lying if I said being a part of shaping the landscape wasn’t/isn’t fulfilling, and I am actually grateful for the time and the things we accomplished. I’ve likened the things I’ve experienced to a constant barrage of like Dementors from Harry Potter surrounding you every day where sometimes you have no sense of self. Luckily, I’ve learned, and I am still learning. I’ve healed in some areas, and in other areas I’m still healing. In the end, there is only so much you can do — but, once you apply lessons you learn, find and move in the direction of your purpose and join forces with those who share the values you believe in.
Find and protect your peace at all costs, and you will always discover the space and that place you need to be unstoppable. What a lovely, precious dream.
