What Doesn’t Change, Even When Everything Else Does
“We don’t have to carry everything at once. We don’t have to have all the answers. And we don’t have to sacrifice ourselves to prove our commitment.”
Like many of you, I’m carrying a lot. The pace of the news, the pressure to respond, the constant sense that we’re supposed to have clarity in moments that are anything but clear, it’s exhausting. There are days when it feels like we’re always “on,” always bracing for what’s next, always holding space for others without much room to exhale ourselves.
In moments like these, I’ve been reminding myself that leadership isn’t about having the perfect response or the fastest statement. For me, it’s about staying grounded enough to remember who I am, who we are, and why we do this work in the first place.
Note on statements:
“We are all watching in real time as the federal government wages its most recent violent attack, this time on our neighbors in Minnesota, as it unleashes a willful and woeful disregard for human rights and life. Utterly incompetent and destructive forces are terrorizing families and neighborhoods; people are being abducted, disappeared, and killed. The National Guard has been sent in to run cover with donuts and cocoa, and some who call themselves leaders in elected and corporate corner offices alike, are tripping over themselves to issue statements so full of words, but empty of any meaning. We know what we need to be safe, and it isn’t any of that.
Simultaneously, we are witnessing the strength and resistance of humanity and community in those same targeted Twin Cities neighborhoods: people taking to the streets, not just to march but to reclaim them, to protect their neighbors, to declare and defend their values.”
I know I mention this in every blog, but I can’t express how important it is for us to root our work in Freedom, Safety, Justice, and Joy. These aren’t abstract ideas or talking points. They are values I return to personally when things feel heavy, and they continue to guide us, no matter the moment. Joy is the one I’m thinking about the most these days. Not because I don’t feel deeply sad, but because my joy is essential to my survival.
The question that I keep asking myself is “What does it look like to choose joy on purpose, even now?”
Choosing joy doesn’t mean ignoring what’s hard or pretending things aren’t heavy. It means refusing to let heaviness be the only story. It means allowing moments of lightness, especially in the midst of uncertainty, into how we navigate difficult times.
Joy is what keeps me here. It’s what reminds me why this work and community matter. Joy is laughter in the middle of long days, music that lifts our spirits, and moments of connection that make the work feel possible again. Choosing and protecting joy, especially now, is not indulgent. It’s necessary.
As we move through this season, I will keep my joy. I will seek out more intentional moments of happiness and give myself (and others) grace as we navigate times that none of us have experienced.
We don’t have to carry everything at once.
We don’t have to have all the answers.
And we don’t have to sacrifice ourselves to prove our commitment.
What we can do is stay rooted in our values. We can choose kindness. We can choose to be better to one another. And we can keep building a Wisconsin where freedom, safety, justice, and joy aren’t just ideals but lived experiences.
Lastly, as we wrap up January and move into Black History Month, I will leave you with the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr: "We must accept finite disappointment but never lose infinite hope."
