Letter To My Colleagues: Leaving the Burning House and Plantation

Dear Colleagues,

I write this letter not as a triumphant exit, but as a caution, as a lament, and as a call to faculty, especially Black scholars in predominantly white institutions (PWIs). What I share comes from a place of love, weariness, hope, and painful clarity.

Like me, I know you showed up full of promise. Earned your degrees. Got hired. Perhaps you were celebrated at first. You were told that things like “we are lucky to have you” and “you are a superstar”. In my case I was also told “always remember that they need you more than you need them”. So, you were not totally naïve about the academy. Yet, you believed in the possibility that you could build community, mentor students, open doors for future generations, and possibly transform these institutions.

I know you quickly discover that possibility comes with a price. You may see and experience subtle or overt hostility. You may be the “only.” The one people expect to produce, represent, smile through discomfort, do “diversity service,” yet remain invisible when it counts. You may be asked to mentor, represent, carry burdens that are not yours alone.

You may ask yourself: Is this worth it? Am I expected to burn so others can be warmed?

I asked myself those same questions.

In writing “I’m Scared that I Have Mentored My People into a Burning House,” I tried to warn younger faculty: the house may be integrated, but it’s still aflame and too many comfortable white colleagues refuse to douse the flames.