It’s Not Easy Being First
A few years ago, I had the honor of sitting on a panel about diversity at a college conference. I was introduced as Yana Jenay Conner, who served at (insert predominately white male organization) as the first and only African-American woman in her position as a (insert significant role of leadership). Towards the end of the panel discussion, one of the students in the audience proudly asked me what it was like to be first. With tears in my eyes, I responded, "lonely." I'm sure they anticipated a more glamorous response, but this was the truth. I was lonely, frustrated, and exhausted, with no models to follow or mentors within reach.
It's not easy being the first. It may be an honor, but it's also a weight-bearing responsibility. Whether you're an inventor, creating something that's never been done before, or the first of your kind in color and form to serve in a particular role. People will question your vision. You will have to defend and protect your dream. You are also responsible for creating a blueprint from scratch. And when you fail, you have to find the strength to pivot and continue charge ahead.
I remember the first time I was "the first." I was the first person in my immediate family to graduate from college. There was a lot of pressure leading up to my arrival at the University of Missouri-Columbia. Though I was a nearly straight-A student, my mom had me in almost every science and math summer program and hired writing and English tutors to help turn my B's into A's. She wanted to make sure I made it, and she willingly threw all her resources towards this goal (i.e., private school tuition). However, this didn't just cost my mother. It cost me. I was constantly made fun of by others because I was smart and two grades ahead. Then there were my summers. My mother's idea of a "fun summer" was reading the dictionary and getting ahead on the Math curriculum. For my twelve-year-old self, this kind of summer was the worst. But as a thirty-something adult, I understand my mother's unwavering investment in my education and thank her often for it. She got me to my first year of college with a partial scholarship and a sharp mind.
But after getting there, I was on my own. My mom had no advice to offer about what to expect. I had to feel my way through managing the demands of several syllabi, handling conflict with professors, making solid friends, and not drowning under the weight of my family and own expectations to be the first.
This first and all the other firsts I've experienced in my black female life causes me to look at Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson's nomination with pride and concern. I and every other black woman who has ever been the first or only in a space know what's ahead for sis. We know all too well the micro-aggressions she'll receive about her hair. We anticipate the moments when the media will interpret her actions as driven by her ethnicity and not her integrity. We understand the task of negotiating with word choices to ensure that you strike the perfect balance of saying what needs to be said and in a way your colleagues can hear it. We also know the pressure to do that negotiating in a way that makes your community proud and not be named a sellout. We've all had to learn how to play socio-emotional psychological chess in a racist, classist, and sexist world. It's a life skill. We understand the cost of being "the first," so there can be a second, third, and fourth.
It's not easy.
So as we watch sis take deep breaths and adjust her glasses while being badgered with questions by those trying to protect their political interest and see her presence on the Supreme Court as a threat, let's not just applaud her. Let's also be sure to pray for her. If you think Judge Jackson has been treated harshly and demeaning during this public confirmation hearing, consider how she may be treated in private meetings or the elevators and hallways of the Supreme Court building. This confirmation is only the beginning. She needs our prayers just as much as our applause.
Father, we thank you for Judge Kentanji Brown Jackson. We thank you for the day you made her Your child and put the dream inside of her to be a Supreme Court Judge. We thank you for how you have gifted and positioned her for this moment. We pray that you would continue to strengthen her with wisdom that comes from Your Spirit. God of all grace, restore her confidence when her credentials are demeaned. Establish her in truth when others would seek to distort her words, past actions, or affiliations. Strengthen her with Your love as she continues the process of stating and defending her position on the law. Support her with Your right arm. For Your glory, not her own. Though she is human, may she be an instrument of righteousness and justice in Your hand. In Jesus' Name, Amen.
