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Yes, This is Your Fight, Too: What the LA Protests Teach Us About Resistance in the Streets and the Boardroom

  • Writer: Nina Rodgers
    Nina Rodgers
  • 5 days ago
  • 3 min read

If you’ve been paying attention for the last week or so, then you’re aware of the heinous scene unfolding in Los Angeles, and increasingly now in other cities across the country. The brutal uses of force being taken are unfortunately not a surprise considering the promises made by this administration, nor are they out of alignment with this country’s history of squashing dissent— and especially dissent that centers Black and Brown people.

A group of police officers in riot gear are seen forcefully restraining and striking a person on the ground during a protest. One officer holds a baton, while others surround the individual. Protesters and bystanders look on in the background, some recording the event. A Mexican flag is visible in the distance, highlighting the protest's possible focus on immigrant or racial justice.

Since the 2024 election, there’s been a narrative building about why Black folks need to “sit this one out” or that Black women especially don’t need to get involved in any resistance movements now because we as the 92% “did our jobs” in November.


While being strategic and realistic about how you engage with a hostile political climate such as this is undoubtedly important, it doesn’t completely absolve us from our duty to remain in solidarity with one another or to resist the authoritarian forces at work now.


We’ve written about this phenomenon before on the ShiftED blog, and this week, we’re back with another reminder of why the resistance against immigration crackdowns and deportations does in fact, involve us.


The apathetic, I’m-just-gonna-mind-my-business attitude that many people are taking now is the same that shows up in many companies and organizations. How many times have we witnessed coworkers be belittled and bullied in front of us as we sit there in silence? How many times have we as managers known about the hostile behavior our own employees are showing, yet done nothing of significance to change course or protect others from their actions? How many times have we taken marching orders from leadership that we know conflicts with our own values?


Demonstrating courage at work, especially as a Black or Brown woman, is no easy task. White Supremacy Culture makes it difficult for us to just ‘lean in’ or assert ourselves, lest we confirm the stereotypes people believe about us being angry, feisty, robotic, or aggressive. And let’s just call it out: in the wrong environments, it can be downright dangerous to show up this way.


If you’re a Black or Brown woman in this position of struggling to reconcile your values with a hostile working environment — just as much of the country is struggling with the same in this hostile political climate — know that this isn’t your fight alone. While allies are a myth, it’s still the responsibility of White folks to get engaged in the work of dismantling White Supremacy Culture.

A Black woman in business attire sits at a desk, visibly stressed with her hands on her temples. Multiple hands around her point accusatorily in her direction. On the desk are a laptop, paperwork, and a coffee mug, symbolizing a professional setting. The image reflects workplace blame, isolation, or racialized pressure.

And we cannot and should not go at this alone. In the same way that massive protests are never done in isolation, is the same way that we need others to unify with us at work to resist and uproot White Supremacy Culture when it shows up.


Because it will show up. In microaggressions passed off as “personality conflicts.” In leaders who gaslight employees instead of addressing racial harm. In the pipeline decisions that leave out Black and Brown talent under the guise of “fit.” In the silencing of people calling out injustice while perpetrators receive more coaching, more grace, more protection.


Resisting doesn’t always look like quitting. Sometimes it means choosing to stay, to disrupt, to build alliances with intention. Sometimes it looks like naming what’s happening in a meeting, pushing back on coded feedback, documenting patterns that would otherwise disappear in the haze of plausible deniability. Sometimes it means checking in with that coworker who’s always interrupted, always sidelined, and letting them know you see it too—and you’re not okay with it.


But what it must never look like is silence.


Silence is complicity. Silence is strategy—for the wrong side.


To those who feel like this isn’t their fight: it is. If you benefit from the existing systems—even unintentionally—you have a role in transforming them. If you say you care about justice, about equity, about people—you have a role in showing up when it counts. Not just when it’s comfortable. Not just when it’s trending.

A young Latina protester holds a large Mexican flag and shouts passionately during a march. She is surrounded by others holding bold protest signs that read: “Workers action to smash the deportation machine of the Democrats and Republicans,” “You can't fight Trump with Democrats,” and “Stop deportations.” The crowd is energized, demanding immigrant justice and systemic change.

What we’re witnessing in LA, and across the country, is not just about one issue or one community. It’s about who gets to belong. It’s about power. Who gets to speak. Who gets to live without fear. That question is alive in our workplaces too. And the answer depends on what each of us chooses to do next.


If you're unsure where to begin, start with this: listen deeply. Reflect honestly. Then take bold, tangible action.


Your silence is not neutrality, it's a decision – and that decision can be course-corrected. 



 
 
 

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