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Justice Walks May 2025
Abby Anderson
May 28, 2025
Welcome to this month’s Justice Walk newsletter.
Every step on your journey, including opening this email, matters.
This month I’ll:
Tell a story about “interrupting oppression”
Recommend a podcast and people I’m learning from
Offer a reflection about both/and spaces and how we move through them
Let’s get to it!
A screenshot of an email exchange between me and my friend Paul (used with permission)
Folks often ask me about how to “interrupt bias.”
We are told to “speak up” when we see or hear something racist, anti-queer, or otherwise oppressive.
It’s scary to call someone out. We are putting ourselves out there, risking being seen as “not nice,” “disruptive,” or “too sensitive.” Lots of us want to take that risk, knowing that our comfort is not more important than interrupting or preventing actual harm to an individual or group. But, how?
I recently facilitated a workshop on this topic and told the group:
“Listen, interrupting bias is hard at first. It feels really crappy. (I said “shitty.”) Then you do it a second time. It feels pretty crummy that time too. But you keep doing it and it gets easier. You build muscle memory.
There’s no way to get to it being relatively easy without it being hard first.
I wish that wasn’t true, but it is. So, don’t wait til you feel ready or not scared before you try interrupting. Doing it and feeling crappy is the only way you get to doing it and feeling okay.”
A few weeks ago I had an opportunity to “interrupt” that proves it can go okay.
My friend Paul posted on LinkedIn about his journey with antiracism as a white man. He referenced the idea of the “invisible knapsack” of privilege and how that knapsack impacts him. (You can read his post here) I got to the end of the piece and realized Paul hadn’t cited Peggy McIntosh, who originated the idea of the invisible knapsack.
I got a pit in my stomach. The right thing to do was let Paul know.
It’s critical for us to always cite our sources (true for everyone and especially if we are folks with power and privilege).
Paul is someone I have a relationship with.
I know Paul believes in lifting up folks’ labor and citing sources.
But, what if Paul got mad at me? Stopped liking me?
What if my message caused him embarrassment and shame?
I started to leave a comment on his LinkedIn post, nicely suggesting he shout out Peggy McIntosh. Then I paused. I have Paul’s email address. Instead of typing something under his post, for everyone to see (which both calls attention to Paul’s oversight AND is often used as a form of virtue signaling and “see-how-great-I-am” performing by those “calling out” errors), I decided to send him an email, privately. That’s what you see in the picture above. I’m including the text below:
Hey Paul,
Love the latest substack - as per usual!
Friendly suggestion to insert a shout out to Peggy McIntosh for originating the Invisible Knapsack metaphor?
I've learned to be hyper-aware of always citing my sources, so wanted to pass along that tip!
This is the basic format I’ve come up with when calling someone in either in conversation or in writing:
Offer authentic gratitude and/or praise for what they are trying to do (when possible).
Make a “friendly suggestion” for a modification of something they have said or done.
Present myself not as a perfect referee, but as a fellow learner sharing from my experience.
Almost every single time, folks respond the way Paul did:
“Ah, thank you for that call out! Appreciate you!”
Paul aced the response. No defensiveness, no denial, no attempts to explain his intent. Just, “Ah! Thanks!” and action. Within hours of this exchange, Paul updated the post to cite Peggy’s article.
We debriefed after, when I asked permission to use this story. We agreed that while in the past these interactions were hard on both of us - the discomfort and fear around calling someone in and shame when getting called in - those “fear/shame spiral cycles” are now much shorter and easier to manage.
These kinds of conversations don’t have to be dramatic. They don’t have to involve conflict and complication and drawn-out conversations. They can be quick email exchanges.
I promise it won’t be easy the first time you call-in.
And, I promise that it will get easier.
If my anxiety-forward brain can get to a point where this is no big deal, I know yours can too.
If you are looking for a guide to offer nudges and support as you adopt this practice, I can help. Just reach out!
Learning Resource
My favorite current listen. Click on the image to go to the podcast’s website
“Fifty years ago, a ragtag band of radical nuns in combat boots, wild-haired priests and their madcap friends swiftly became accomplished cat burglars in a hellbent effort to sabotage a war." - from the online description of the Divine Intervention podcast
It’s important for white folks like me to know and study my “ancestors” in the movement for a just and liberated world where everyone is valued and belongs. I’d never heard of the civil disobedience and direct actions these folks took to literally steal and destroy draft cards, saving lives and changing public conversation and opinion around the Vietnam War. I’m deeply inspired by the community these folks built, the impact they had, and the choices they made to act in the service of justice even when that meant defying their government. These are timely lessons.
Check it out by clicking the image above and let me know if you want to debrief!
Folks to Follow
Mimi Gonzalez is a first-gen Afro-Latina who is passionate about storytelling as a tool for reclaiming identity & community care. Losing 36 loved ones well before turning 30 and working as a death doula taught her how much grief shapes who we are and how we show up. One way Mimi is building the support and community she needed (and needs) is through her podcast, griefsense, where she hosts conversations on grief, mental health, and social impact with a particular focus on Black, Latine, and Gen Z folks. I know it sounds depressing, but Mimi is one of the most joyful people I know.
Paul Johnson is doing the deep, internal work to unlearn the messages of superiority whiteness teaches us and learn what it means to be and move in liberation. He’s sharing his journey with amazing transparency and authenticity. If you’re a white person who struggles with shame, guilt, fear, and perfectionism in anti-racism work, check out Paul on LinkedIn above or get his newsletter on Substack. (Note: I usually intentionally recommend Black, queer, trans, and other traditionally marginalized folks as experts. It is also important for those of us who are white to know about and build community with our peers in this work.)
Taking Care of Our Feet
The marsh on a foggy evening. The sun is trying to come through the clouds.
I love living right on the shores of Long Island Sound. While I complain when we have days-long fogged-in periods when it never really gets light, there is something beautiful about these days too.
A recent fog was denser that any other I remember, making the world seem smaller and more mysterious than ever.
The marsh is a liminal, in-between space to begin with, not quite dry land, not quite water. Not quite fresh, not quite salt.
The fog adds another layer of in-between. Are things seen or hidden? Is it light or dark?
Liminal spaces represent the both/and rather than the either/or.
Right now we are in a time of upheaval, divide, chaos, and destruction. What came before is no longer, what is coming is not yet clear. We are in a liminal space.
Things are dark, scary, and uncertain. That means scripts are yet to be written, outcomes yet to be determined, decisions yet to be made. Uncertainty means opportunity for imagination, possibility, and experimentation. “Fear and excitement are next-door neighbors,” my Mom once said. “They often hang out on each others’ porches, so it can be hard to tell them apart.” Both/And.
Our feelings and reactions to liminal spaces are all valid.
We get to choose how we move forward. “Living in the conditional, imaginative tense is a practice of faith,” says Rev. Anna Blaedel, “An investment in the futures we yearn for and urgently need.”
How do liminal spaces, physical or emotional, impact you?
What does the future you yearn for look like? Who might build it alongside you?
Looking for more resources, recommendations, and tools for your journey? Upgrade to a paid subscription for either $10/month or “Name My One-Time Gift.”
Inspiration For Our Walk
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Reflection from a Coaching Client
“I had the opportunity to work with Abby Anderson as an executive coach around our trauma informed anti-racist work here at Clifford Beers Community Health Partners. Her approach was incredibly helpful to me. She has experience as an executive director of a non profit as well as extensive knowledge in the field of health equity. More than all of that, Abby has a warm and caring way to challenge you around your thinking without it being harsh or shameful. Abby is able to assure you that we all make mistakes and it is part of being human. I would highly recommend working with Abby to any executive who really wishes to orient their leadership around an equity and belonging mindset. She is a top resource and my go-to coach.”
Alice Forrester, PhD
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