Practicing Opening Conversations Beyond My Comfort Zone

I have been fascinated by spending countless hours in my garage deep diving into my independent study on algorithms and racial equity. However, it is useless if I cannot act upon it and incorporate my learnings into how I take up space and live my life out loud. There's no impact realized for those sharing stories of pain if I stay in my comfort zone and quietly go about my studies pretending everything is fine. There's no healing for any of us if we turn away from it, pretending race doesn't exist and pain will just go away if we don't talk about it. Thus, I vowed to myself that remaining in this comfort zone is not an option.

And yet, vocalizing and opening these types of conversations has been harder for me to accomplish than I thought it would be. As the hub of our street and chosen family, our house hosts drag nights where we celebrate and open the door for asking questions and learning more about LGBTQ+ while spending time together. We enjoy a variety of dinners with different people, and I love the beautiful chaos this brings to my life. Thus, as I planned my coursework this quarter, I thought it'd be no big deal to swap Rue Paul's drag race for a film like Coded Bias, where they highlight how harmful biases are being coded into every aspect of our daily lives.

However, I told myself there was never a right time to talk about the harms that are happening, the unintended consequences that are playing out, and the pain real people are navigating. I found myself halfway through the quarter, still hesitant to throw the door open for asking questions and unlearning more about racial equity with the people I care about. Learning in public, I told myself they didn't want to deal with the weight of the conversation because they were going through their own burdens. I didn't know how focusing conversations about race would land or who was going to still be in my living room after work. And I let that fear hold me back and I made the choice not to engage with those in my life, instead of providing opportunities to connect about something that impacts each of us.

Once I got out of my own way, got myself to stop listening to the noise my mind was generating, I found that people were more ready to talk about race than I had realized. My partner, closest friends, and a girlfriend were up to speed and way ahead of me. Friends and neighbors work in the tech sector and are beginning to explore how DEI and tech are interwoven. My lawyer friend is having to defend clients against immigration facial recognition cases and has begun sharing stories of how he sees that playing out poorly. My grandparents read my Facebook post and jumped on the opportunity to learn more. Best of all, a sister is doing what I am studying for work, and I had never asked more questions to really understand what she does. The interest and desire to talk about racial equity was stronger than I imagined; I just needed to practice embracing feeling awkward but opening my mouth anyway. My inner voice was telling me things that just weren't true.

Now the responses weren't all rosy, as one relative strongly refuted the credibility of the documentary and the amateurish nature of my survey.

"After reflecting on your response, I can appreciate why this would not be a compelling starting point for our conversation. What you said hurt me. If I set my feelings aside looking deeper, I think I hear you saying, ‘It is important to be thinking about, discussing, and developing oversight to ensure inclusion of the widest range of people as new technologies are being developed.’ And if this is your underlying message I agree with you, yet your delivery of this response was hurtful.

Your response hurt me and was painful to read. I am happy to share more about the survey and what I’ve learned, but the conclusions you arrived at, and sources you are citing, are not based on accurate information nor reflect curiosity about the topic. In future moments where you have an opposing viewpoint, I encourage you to remember that I am a person you love and care about and will be the one on the receiving end of your words."

Was it the perfect response to the range of emotions and responses I drafted after reading their multi page email? Probably not. After spending a week working with my initial reactions, leaning on my support network to comfort and make sense of it, I came to the conclusion that even this negative response was a good thing. It provided an opportunity for us to practice staying in a tough conversation. In the end the relative had engaged with the content, listened when I told them they had hurt me and I felt seen. I didn't change their perspective, but I did show them exactly where I stood and raised/challenged their awareness about racial equity. I stayed true to my core values while respecting where they were at and centering their value as a person.

In conclusion, it can be difficult to step out of our comfort zones and engage in conversations about difficult topics like racial equity that we are conditioned not to. However, when I do, I have found rewards that fuel me to continue. Pain will not just go away if we don't talk about and take action to correct for our mistakes. It is important to continue to have conversations, even when they are uncomfortable or met with resistance. To me, building a more equitable world requires that we start and stay in these discussions and challenge ourselves and each other to learn and grow. By stepping out of my comfort zone, I am building stronger relationships and contributing to a more equitable world.