“18. There’s Still More to Do” in “Faith Made Flesh”
18 THERE’S STILL MORE TO DO Community Reflection
Heather Gonzalez
In a moment where cries heard across the globe have united people to stand against systemic racism and the continual perpetuation of institutional harm and violence against BIPOC folks, the Black Child Legacy Campaign has never been timelier. BCLC remains affirmed as “just” and essential to reducing the insidious racial harm woven into our system’s very fabric. Much like the nation, Sacramento has a long history of “turning its head” from the preventable, perpetual, and continual disproportionate death rates afflicting our African American babies and youth in the four focus areas that BCLC has aimed to mitigate.
At its conception, BCLC’s mission was lofty yet imperative. We set out to reduce the named disparities of mortality by 20 percent in a five-year timeframe in the four areas of highest impact across Sacramento County: perinatal conditions, unsafe sleep-related outcomes, child abuse and neglect, and third-party homicide. Each of the seven Community Incubator Leads were strategically placed and given the charge to build with and follow the direction of neighborhood leaders, residents, and stakeholders. Together, they were mandated to develop neighborhood-specific strategies to reduce these preventable outcomes while creating sustainable strategies and alliances to continue building on each neighborhood’s amazing strengths, qualities, and unique attributes.
Having spent my entire career serving the greater Sacramento area within the nonprofit field, I soon noticed something beautiful and striking that set BCLC apart from other agencies and programs: the documented reduction of mortality rates was one of the main indicators of success. BCLC did not rely on widgets or predetermined program outcomes developed by folks far removed from and unaffected by the conditions being addressed. Furthermore, there was an intentional approach to ensure that strategies were developed by BIPOC folks from many walks of life, were led by BIPOC folks in and from the most affected neighborhoods, and were unapologetically designed to serve BIPOC folks through every service and support; this commitment demonstrated that approaching service through targeted universalism, steeped in values of racial equity that were consistently upheld throughout all functions of the work, is not only possible but is also an essential component to getting to the root of the issues and moving the needle forward. To be clear, racism and systemic racism are the root causes of Sacramento’s long history of preventable and disproportionate mortality rates for our African American families. BCLC remained rooted in that understanding and has been successful in its mission because it never watered down the narrative or wavered from that truth in seeking funding and support from those unaffected by these ills.
To be neutral in the face of racism is not enough. One must be unapologetically antiracist in action and commit to a lifetime of service, self-work, and reflection to deconstruct our own internalized and implicit attachment to racist ideologies while simultaneously dismantling social constructs and systemic laws, policies, practices, and procedures that perpetuate racist outcomes that continuously harm communities of color. White folks in Sacramento have, historically and continuously, led nonprofit initiatives and organizations funded to serve BIPOC communities and have built their careers on the backs of the communities they have been tasked to “serve” while never being held accountable or holding themselves accountable for closing the gaps of health, wealth, and meaningful representation within leadership and voice in spaces of impact. By design, BCLC demonstrates that this antiquated and harmful approach can be changed through a commitment to racial equity principles, action, and an abundance of accountability.
The work is not easy, but it is sacred, it is urgent, and it is imperative that we get it right. We have had our wins and are so proud of our success in accomplishing our goals of reducing mortality disparities in some of the focus areas. However, this is only the beginning. More resources are needed: more bodies, more support. The reality of this work is that African American babies and youth are dying. Collectively we are not doing enough about it in Sacramento County. Some of the stories make the news, and you will see fair weather providers vying for the spotlight to get accolades in the moment, public officials making empty promises for the news outlets, and folks pontificating on the needs. Folks will be outraged for a few weeks and then move on to the next issue, while our families, with little support, are left to put together the shattered pieces that remain.
Most affected families are supported and held by the folks serving on the frontline, who have little resources to provide; those who tirelessly show up to serve—who move from scene to scene and from family to family, and who facilitate as much healing and support as able to ease the impacts families experience after losing their child(ren)—have even less resources for themselves. The emotional labor, crushing weight, and vicarious trauma are real for most of those who show up in service for the cause. It is heartbreaking for me to admit that I cannot remember the number of families we have supported who lost a child for preventable reasons, and that thought plays over and over in my mind. It haunts me in quiet moments. Each life is sacred. The fact that there have been too many children lost to remember each one is gut wrenching, but real. Nonetheless, we carry the pain and their families’ cries in our hearts and souls, and righteous rage rolls out of our mouths when we speak on these issues and call for change in honor of those unable to be present in the arenas where we battle.
Of all the important causes to fight for, I cannot think of ones more important than those of the Black Child Legacy Campaign. This work is essential, urgent, and sacred, and we are centuries late in addressing it. I am forever grateful and humbled to have been allowed into these sacred spaces and to serve alongside so many impactful healers, leaders, activists, advocates, change agents, public servants, and social justice warriors. It has been an honor to serve our beautiful community, to be trusted to support families in their darkest of times, and to walk alongside them as they find a way to carry on.
We use cookies to analyze our traffic. Please decide if you are willing to accept cookies from our website. You can change this setting anytime in Privacy Settings.