Will you bloom with me?

Freedom, Safety, Justice, and Joy Are Blooming

As Spring stretches across Wisconsin, I’m reminded of something deep and steady: the flowers always return even after the longest winters. They don’t ask permission. They bloom because it’s time. Now is our time to bloom.

This season feels sacred for those working to build a better world, especially Black women in leadership. After months (and years) of holding grief, navigating backlash, and pushing through burnout, spring invites us to root back into the values that make the work worth it.

I have been struggling to keep myself grounded in this work. That’s why our four pillars—Freedom, Safety, Justice, and Joy—feel more than timely.

They feel like soil. Like seeds. Like a framework, not just for surviving this political moment but for planting something lasting and bold. Here is how I interpret them:

Freedom 

Spring reminds us that freedom is natural. Flowers don’t shrink themselves. Trees don’t ask, Is there room for me? They take up space. They stretch. And even through the weeds, they grow.

I embrace my freedom to lead without being boxed in by respectability, code-switching, or quiet tolerance. It means I am fully seen and supported in my brilliance and complexity, not just tolerated but trusted.

Freedom means blooming in full sun.

Safety

The Earth is softening. There’s protection and safety in how it renews itself.

I strive to create true safety in our sector and communities. This means not asking people to thrive in hostile conditions. It means designing physical, emotional, and organizational spaces where everyone can thrive, especially those most harmed. 

Safety is fertile ground. And it must be tended with intention.

Justice

Justice is not just a reaction. It is a planting. 

To lead with justice, I often ask myself: What do I want to grow? What systems need to be composted and returned to the earth? What truths need sunlight?

Even while resting, I know I am responsible for protecting what I’ve planted. I know I must keep sowing, even as the political climate feels cold. Justice requires action, imagination, and collaboration, like sowing a garden.

And it starts with believing that we all deserve more than scraps—we deserve a harvest.

Justice is a plentiful harvest.

Joy

And then—there is joy. This is my favorite pillar. 

Joy is the bloom—the bud that pushes through the snow, the daffodil that shows up bright and unruly. Joy is not a reward for doing the work. It is the work. It’s proof we’re still alive, loving, and laughing—even when the world seems to be falling apart.

I hold joy close, not as a luxury, but as a discipline. I don’t wait for the world to change to claim my joy. I find it in community, in rest, in music, in my grandbabies, and in the eyes of the next generation who are already dreaming beyond us.

Joy doesn’t erase struggle; it grows through it, reaching for light, nourished by resilience.

I ask, will you bloom with me?

Can we be the planters, the protectors, and bloom together? 

Can we become rooted in Freedom, Safety, Justice, and Joy in Wisconsin?