Luxury Leadership: A Radical Response to DEI Collapse
This time last year I wrote about the pervasive risk to Black women in leadership. I shared stats on burnout and connected the social determinants of health to workplace practices, polices, and outcomes. And as we usher in Black History Month this February, things have only gotten worse. Despite the fact that we are the most educated, innovative leaders in the country, we are always at risk. The current landscape: a work force that is suffering from the loss of key Black wom[e/x]n* voices, insight, and leadership, families impacted by income loss and job, food, and housing insecurity, and the bodies, minds, and nervous systems of Black wom[e/x]n bracing for yet another blow on journeys that were already impossible.
Still, many Black wom[e/x]n I know are still motivated, still showing up, still digging their heels in, in spite of a culture that consistently demeans us. I am always fascinated by the epigenetic, cultural, emotional, and psychological sauce that makes it possible for us to keep giving even when we are depleted and attacked. And at moments, I am very proud that I am a part of that legacy.
And still, I am exhausted.
Still, I resist the tightness of the trauma bind that pins me and other Black women in spaces that are unsustainable and too often, deadly. So, in response to that, I am embracing a new way of leading, a sort of radical response that goes beyond survival: luxury leadership. This is not luxury defined by capitalism and extraction. It is not only bubble baths and fresh flowers and five star hotels, though it can be. This is a debt paid to those who serve without limit, without support, and without end.
As the DEI market crumbled in response to federal weaponization and attacks, here at CCI we quietly explored alternative models to the work we do. Part of enduring in this important work is understanding the cycle of resistance and allowing ourselves to be adaptable, even when we lose. As a former research mentor explained to me, “be committed to your outcome, and flexible in your methods.” As an anthropological and sociological thinker I know that this moment is a part of a larger pattern of Black and Brown excellence and progress being met with violent federal and cultural backlash. It is not new. It is not the worst it has ever been. It is not even unique. Which in some ways has made it easier for me to navigate. As I leaned into leadership under this kind of pressure last year, I was offered the opportunity to step into a new role. To make room for the reality of the state we are in, Alethea, CCI’s founder, has joined me in modifying her role as well. I am now, Co-CEO of Co-Creating Inclusion, Chief of Strategy alongside Alethea’s Chief of Vision. This model is our way of finding and re-founding ourselves anew, and for me, a person who has often carried the weight of transformation alone, it is already healing.
I’ve experienced the last year on a roller coaster of grief, acceptance, weariness and still, pervasive joy. As I write these words I am almost in shock that I am still here, that I have not perished under the weight of violence directed at me and my community and other communities of color. At CCI, we work with leaders who are navigating the harmful realities of oppression as they strive to do work that fuels them and supports their communities. Like many Black wom[e/x]n, I have relied on the systems that educated, hired, and extracted from me in an effort to survive. And again, on a grand scale, the system proves it is operating as designed. The latest proof of this for me was an unfounded PhD rejection due to an administrative error that was the fault of the system itself. Like many Black wom[e/x]n who are destabilized by professional violence, I sought stability and validation through an education process that would allow me to synthesize my ideas but also, prove myself, yet again. And again, the finish line, was moved. As a Black wom[a/x]n I am both a generator, innovator, and sustainer of this system and its easiest, greatest casualty.
As I reckon with this in the work, often our clients ask me how I remain calm, committed, and grounded in the face of pervasive violence. The truth is, I don’t always. Grief is an important part of how I show up. Rage is an important signal I do not let die. Sadness is a close friend I hold dear. Euphoria is a ritual I live by. Those private and communal moments when I allow myself to feel the fullness of my experience in the world and the experience of wom[e/x]n like me are the fodder for the brilliant insights, methodology, and practice that follows. For me, this is a part of luxury, the capacity and freedom to hold the full spectrum of my experience without constant interruption.
What has been branded as luxury in a capitalist system is actually the structures of essential experiences for an aligned euphoric life. Beauty. Softness. Space. Sunlight. Healing. Nourishment. Rest. And for Black wom[e/x]n specifically: less friction & interruption. I’m calling this neuro-luxe in practice, and it’s what we’ve always done at CCI, designing for bodies that have been taught to override their needs and creating conditions where the nervous system can finally downregulate and move towards coherence. Neuro-luxe lives both in the individual nervous system and in the collective one. And in order to lead others to that cool oasis, it starts with me, my body, and my choices. I have lived my life as a grand social experiment within the meta social experiment of American global racialized capitalism, choosing alignment and purpose and a practice of work/labor that is rooted in love. Thankfully, and not accidentally, that has brought me success on MY terms. It has also made necessary a healthy relationship with risk.
We all must navigate our relationship with risk as we commit to resistance to fascism, racism, genocide, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and covert and overt abuse. Our relationship with risk is not neutral and we must define it for ourselves. It is connected to privilege, positionally, time, global context, and capacity. As someone who has a high capacity but rarely has cultural permission to live within their limits, and also a person who has developed “earned capital” (a term I use to describe social and economic privilege as a Black wom[x]n in a system in which I am under siege), I’ve grown comfortable with certain risks. I will walk away from jobs, people, and social roles that drain my life force. I will lean into positions, roles, and people that safely challenge me into a new reality and sense of self. I know that this risk is possible because of the many risks my ancestors took before I arrived. Those necessary but costly risks that led to loss of income, loss of family, loss of safety, and loss of life. Their risks are the foundations of my story. Their loss, is the foundation of my success. And I carry them with me every single day. I demand luxury, safety, neurological, intellectual, and creative sovereignty, rest, and recovery on their behalf. This is the foundation from which I now lead.
Today, I step into this role with great pride and also great sobriety. I am an enemy of a culture that wants to make me small. I am a champion for wom[e/x]n who refuse to submit to social, financial, and spiritual death. Together, we will build what comes next. We will define luxury leadership as a state of nervous system coherence for bodies under siege. We, in our wounds, in our heartbreak, in our endurance and persistence, are the past, present, and future of leadership.
With love and enduring euphoria,
V Woods
* As a genderqueer Black woman, I use this orthographic practice as a part of an emerging gender inclusive lexicon of marginalized leaders defining themselves for themselves. We will also be following this practice at CCI going forward.