The Deep End

It’s Black History Month, so let’s get real about fear and victimhood. Fear has been a constant companion for Black folks—an unavoidable response to navigating a society steeped in anti-Blackness, systemic violence, and relentless marginalization. Fear has protected us, warned us of danger and helped us survive. But it has also been weaponized against us, twisted into stereotypes that justify harm or displaced into self-doubt and mistrust within our own communities.

As we step further into the new year and are all somewhere in the depths of grief, trauma recovery, and adjustment, I’ve been thinking a lot about capacity—the limits of what we can give, create, and sustain—both personally and professionally.

Our work with clients often comes back to this—as folks move through the process of workplace cultural change they are able to more clearly see how systems of oppression function in their day-to-day work, in this case in the urgency of our workflows.

While the cultural pressure to push ahead can feel overwhelming, especially in the current political context, a trauma-informed lens reminds us to consider capacity differently: not as a fixed boundary to ignore or overcome, but as a dynamic, evolving reflection of our human experience.

Though we often hear that our work is deeply supportive and feels therapeutic to our clients, it is not therapy. For many of the leaders we partner with, having a supportive, aligned therapist can make a world of difference—especially when that therapist aligns with your DEIB journey.

Therapy can be a powerful container for processing the challenges and complexities of DEIB work, from trauma recovery to the development of accountability and resilience—and on that path, surfacing needs along the way. But finding the right therapist, one who truly understands and aligns with your DEIB journey, can be challenging.

I know that we’ve all been holding a lot of mixed feelings these past couple weeks. You may be somewhere on the spectrum of grief, openness, protection, anxiety, and hope. Finding yourself in that nebulous place where the ground feels unsteady can be difficult, and especially hard to navigate as you show up to work and are expected to do well.

I’m LaVoya Woods (ve/ver)—but you can call me V. I’m the Director of Trauma-Informed Methodologies at CCI, and I’m honored to bring my voice to this space alongside Alethea’s. This post marks the start of a new series where I’ll be sharing insights monthly from my own perspective as a Black, Queer, Trans Non-Binary, Neurodiverse, Disabled leader navigating complex systems and supporting folks in recovery and transformation.