Since Trump returned to office in January, I have been feeling the impact of this man’s decisions when he decided to target diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) work. I have casually mentioned it in passing but as a Black woman in this climate, I often feel unheard. The sad truth is that for many out there, our lived experiences and stories don’t matter and get zero consideration until they are substantiated by loads of data or a form of whiteness.
Since mid-summer, the media had started talking about the quiet removal of Black folks in the workforce, but in recent days—as mainstream legacy media started doing more reporting on the situation—those who are paying attention are finally realizing what Black folks have known since this man returned to office: The great white takeover is in full effect.
This administration and its supporters want a return to a world where it’s whites only and with the weight of the administration, it is happening. The systematic removal of Black and brown people is in full effect, but it is only the visually jarring images of folks being snatched and grabbed that seem to register, not the experiences and tales of those of us who have been under attack far less visibly since January.
As one of the invisible folks being impacted, let me tell you: It hurts and it’s scary.
Also, to have your life’s work deemed traitorous or illegal by an administration led by laughingstocks is an insult of the highest order.
Diversity is our strength. Working to create an equitable, just, and inclusive world that affirms the dignity and worth of all people and seeks to right the wrongs of history by adjusting is not just laudable and cool—it is literally the right thing to do. Instead, we are now governed by people whose mediocrity fears truth; it’s why they seek to suppress the truth. It’s why they are working overtime to create a false narrative of reality.
I must believe that truth will one day prevail but, in the meantime, a middle-aged twice-divorced broad needs to eat and pay bills.
Prior to Act Two of our collective nightmare, I had a decent consulting and training practice, working with schools, colleges, universities, and organizations either consulting on creating a anti-racist program and entities, addressing specific issues around DEI, offering workshops, or giving talks. This side business (since I have a full-time job running a small grassroots organization) usually brought in $25,000-$40,000 a year depending on how much work I took on.
This year so far?
I made exactly $500 giving a talk to a local group. After the travel expenses and calculating the time put in for the talk—meaning the hours spent writing it, etc.—it was basically a loss. Thankfully, it was for a group I like. But the fact remains that for 10 months, I have essentially been “unemployed” from a major source of income. We talk about how the administration has dismantled the country so much in 10 months, but let’s be clear: I have suffered for 10 months. My work was impacted almost immediately when that man took office, not gradually over time.
I lost what was projected to be a solid year based on talks that had been in motion with dates on the calendar. After the executive orders came out regarding DEI and all things related to it, suddenly my calls weren’t returned, or I was flat-out told they were putting the brakes on things to see what would be “allowed.”
The only gig thus far that has been willing to continue as planned is in a community that, frankly—considering the death of the dead podcaster—I am scared to work in. While working with school-aged kids isn’t my usual thing, I have done it before and generally there is always one kid who might push back hard against what I am saying. In the past it was no big deal but in today’s climate, it feels like the intellectual equivalent of playing Russian Roulette. One kid hears something and doesn’t like it, they go home and tell their parents, who maybe decide to look me up and post about it on social media. It’s a wrap if that post gets picked up by right wing media. Suddenly I am dealing with attacks online and in my email and maybe even on my body. Given the nature of my day job and the current climate. I can’t risk that type of attention.
In this economic climate with these grocery prices and everything else going up, losing a huge chunk of my income hurts. I don’t have a partner, I pay all my bills and if I fail to be able to do that. I have no backup. My parents are dead and maybe if I am lucky, my ex-husband would put me up for a bit. Given the state of the country and economy, not even my day job is stable. If year-end fundraising tanks, as I told a staff person, it could be a wrap for all of us. While our organization has never received federal funding, with so many organizations losing funds that means our donors will be deciding between us and a lot more organizations.
My superpower—my life skill—has always been reading the room and staying one step ahead of calamity. As a result, I am writing like my life depends on it. If you follow me on Substack or even Facebook, you will have noticed that I have become notably more active there. I am now shooting to write almost daily on Substack to generate income. Me and a whole lot of other people, to be honest.
Honestly, as I told a friend the other day, I want just several days at nice hotel with a bathtub, room service, and not having to write. I am exhausted. Reading the news, writing daily, managing social media—all on top of my actual job plus other aspects of life—is exhausting.
The upside is that I am seeing numbers I have never seen before. The Facebook page is growing like crazy and seeing solid numbers and unlike my website I am not paying for any of that. New people are discovering my work and sharing it. The increased visibility is leading to a daily flow of inbox comments and, well, that’s where things get weird.
On Facebook, I share my posts from Substack and the public blog; however, their formatting means that hyperlinks for sources don’t show up. As a result, I am experiencing an uptick in people asking me for sources.
On the surface, it probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to the person asking but here’s the thing: It is. I am averaging a couple of hours a day on social media, plus writing, plus my actual full-time job and right now, despite millions of people seeing my work, millions aren’t paying for it.
After two years on Substack, I only just this month cracked the 100 paid subscriber mark. At $5 a month or $50 a year, that’s not a lot of cash, especially when I must pay taxes on that money.
To put this in perspective, as of this writing, I have made $6,821 in two years on Substack. When I would give a talk, that would range from $1,500 to $2,000 per talk and a workshop runs upwards of $5,000—more specialized work, it depends.
Listen, times are hard for everyone, but when you hit 43,000 people reading your work on Substack in one month plus 1.9 million folks on Facebook, can’t a girl get someone to pay?
Here’s the thing, a few of the folks asking me for sources have cited Heather Cox Richardson and her daily newsletter and how she always has extensive sources. For starters, I subscribe to her work and enjoy it, but comparing me to her is, as the kids say, kinda shady and here’s why.
Guess who is the top paid writer on Substack?
It’s Heather Cox Richardson, with 2.6+ million subscribers, and it is estimated that she has an annual income from Substack of $5 million. Friends, if I were earning in excess of a million bucks from my online writing, I too, would have time to cite sources on everything I put out.
I am not going to say anything bad about her work—it’s solid and I appreciate it—but the racial reality of this hustler writing model is that in the end it favors white folks. Yeah, I said it. There are virtually no Black women mentioned anywhere near the top earners in any of these people-funded models. Not on Substack or Patreon—remember, Patreon is my OG home outside of my actual blog.
The uncomfortable reality is that resources matter, and in these divided United States of America, access to resources has never been equal. That’s kind of why were into that DEI thing so we could create equity. A retired historian with a partner has a lot more time and resources to develop what Heather has over the years. Meanwhile, a divorced mother who until two years ago was still actively raising a minor while running a grassroots organization doesn’t have the same level of resources. That said, I am a solid writer, and I will stand on that.
Our current culture drives us to consume and have standards about it without ever investing in what we consume. In the old days, you didn’t read unless you paid. Now? It’s a smorgasbord of consumption that is dismissive of who creates that work, or what goes into it. I spend hundreds a month on subscriptions so I can access accurate news as much as possible. I share unpaywalled links. So, yeah, nitpicking when you can’t get a source when you are on a device that has access to so much information feels less than mindful. Especially when you compare me or some other person to someone else who is well-resourced with more time and money and possibly even an assistant or two.
Right now, you are being asked daily to part with your money, either for mutual aid, this group or that group or this subscription, and whatever else. I get it, especially when times are economically tough and the ground beef isn’t even cheap anymore.
But it would behoove you to be thoughtful of who you choose to support. Are you supporting Black- and brown-led organizations? Are you supporting Black and brown (or other marginalized) writers and creators? Some of the most visible folks are visible because they can afford to be visible. You will also notice that often, the highest visibility comes with white skin, because it is a privilege (and also often safer to be highly visible). My organization hasn’t had a communications person in a few years because we can’t afford it; I get a lot of grief because sometimes donors question our work because they don’t “see” it, but my choice was keeping my organizers on the ground and doing the actual work versus someone telling a story about the work. These are the real-life choices those with marginalized identities often deal with.
Our survival will require taking care of one another and that means thinking about who we support and why and expanding our expectations to be inclusive and equitable.
On that note, this month I have dropped the price of an annual subscription on Substack from $50 to $35 (or $5 a month). As you can see, an annual subscription at this price is quite a deal. I hate to discount my work like this, but hey, a broad’s gotta eat.
For those wondering about the difference between the platforms that I am on, Substack is where I write about politics and offer my thoughts on the madness of the day. It is also free to all and so those subscriptions are entirely voluntary. I would really love your support, though: Can a girl at least get 500 paying people? In a world where some make millions doing this, I don’t think I am dreaming too big or asking for so much.
Patreon is primarily paywalled, but it is where I write long-form pieces about racial and social justice, often with concrete ideas for action. It is also where I offer patrons the opportunity to work directly with me. It’s where I am real and vulnerable and is my home of sorts. Patreon requires a minimum monthly commitment of $5 to join.
Then there is the OG blog, Black Girl in Maine Media (blackgirlinmaine dot com). the site that I have maintained for years—my own real estate on the information superhighway. I post a few public pieces there monthly, and it is free to all, you can even subscribe and get new pieces sent directly to your inbox.
As for Facebook and other social media platforms, I post as the spirit moves, generally daily on Facebook. Obviously you need no financial commitment to view or engage with my work there. It’s a public offering.
Listen, I am not trying to hustle you or play on your sympathy. But I also want to be real about what you see and why you see it. I also want to help you think more expansively about the whys, like why one writer can give you a lovely, detailed source list daily and another one can’t.
The lack of equity shows up everywhere even in the most seemingly benign things. It’s our job to pick up on that and think about how we can make things more equitable.
If this piece resonated with you, I would love it if you would consider buying me a coffee. If you want to access all of my work, as soon as it is released consider becoming a monthly patron, if you aren’t already. I offer my work freely, to ensure that it is accessible to all but if you have the means to support it, please do so. Remember, I do work with groups and organizations, if you want to work with me, please reach out for details.
