BlackWomenWork

Our Stories. In Multitudes.

  • Stories
  • Gallery
  • About
  • Contact Us
TraciElaine_NatalieDean-16.jpg

Natalie Dean, Founder of Whine & Cheese, Inc.

January 27, 2021 by Pier Duncan in Entrepreneurship, Community-Building, Nonprofit

Hi, Natalie! So let’s start with your “9-5” job. What do you do for a living?  

Hi! So full-time I work for the American Federation of Teachers, which is a teachers union based in Washington, D.C. Specifically, I engage our more than 3,000 local affiliates on a special project called Share My Lesson, a website where we give educators free resources to be able to successfully teach, manage, and work with students and make sure they’re successful.

My background is in corporate and crisis public relations. For about eight years of my career, I worked at fast-paced PR firms. When you’re fresh out of college and working in corporate and crisis PR it can be very overwhelming. I remember having to have two Blackberrys at the time, and having to take my work Blackberry on vacation with me. So, you know, when you first start in your career in your early twenties, that’s exciting, right? “Oh, I got an extra Blackberry. I’m traveling for work and I’m employed by the top PR firm and get to work with these major brands.” Then, a few years in, you start to experience burnout, and you think, wait a minute, is this really my dream job? But I felt that I had to take on that persona of having it all together, or to at least look like I do. Because I was too young to look burnt out, plus I was one of very few Black women, the youngest one on my team, and I worked for one of the highest-ranking Black women in that particular office and didn’t want to let her down. I was going to grad school at night. I was in a new city. So I could not fail.

Right. So many people can relate to that, I think. Especially Black women. The “work twice as hard” mentality. 

Right, and so what happened —  I would keep a space heater at my desk and one day I went to bend down to turn it on, and I was in so much pain. I went to the doctor, and she couldn’t figure it out — she thought I pulled a muscle. So she sent me to physical therapy and on the very first session, my physical therapist is like massaging my back and asking me what’s going on in my life. I’m telling her about my job, and grad school, and that I’m trying to buy a house. I’m just going down the list. And she’s like, “Oh, that’s awesome but, um, this isn’t a pulled muscle. This stress is manifesting in your body as this pain you’re feeling.” That’s when I realized, wow — I thought I was doing a good job making it look like I have it all together. But on the inside, my body is screaming, No, you don’t girl! That’s when I decided, maybe I need to start looking at a position that doesn’t require so much of my time. I ended up at an education startup that needed a PR manager. The startup was jointly owned by the Teachers Union and that was the start of my transition.

And so from there, how did your nonprofit Whine & Cheese come about? 

In the midst of that transition I realized how stressed I was, but had been holding it in. I started having conversations with friends and admitting how I felt. Slowly but surely they started admitting the same. Like, girl, adulting is not what I thought it would be! (laughs) This whole job thing is way more stressful than I imagined. I thought I was more prepared! And I realized that while our experiences may not have been identical, the emotions behind them were. So I said, okay, these are conversations that I’ve been having with friends that live in different cities. But I know I need women here in my area, so that we can get together and safely say — sometimes with our words, other times with just a look or a sigh — “I’m struggling. I need help.” And to also say to my network that their support is valued and important to me. And to be able to give the gift of community to each other. So I started an organization called Whine & Cheese, a forum where we could express, reflect and reset without pretense. 

That’s incredible. And how would you describe the evolution of Whine & Cheese over time to what it is today? 

It actually didn’t start as an organization. It started as a casual girl’s night in. I invited a few friends and asked everyone to bring a plus one, if they wanted. We all got together in my girlfriend’s living room. I decided that it was not going to turn into a pity party. So while we were definitely going to complain about all that was going on, we were also going to counter those emotions by recognizing and verbalizing all the ways and reasons we still had to be grateful. So we whined, but then we also cheesed or, you know, named things that made us smile.

I love that! And I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t connect the “cheese”  part of the name until just now. (laughs) So let’s sit with this for a second. Can you describe a little bit more about how some of the first Whine & Cheese sessions went? And when did you decide, oh, this could be a thing? 

So you’re asking me to think back ten years. (laughs) But that first night, and remember it was a group of 11 of us and I had probably invited five. And then, some people brought a plus one.

Right, yeah. 

So, there were familiar faces, but we didn’t all know each other. And that actually provided a space for us to be even more open with one another. The first few gatherings, we went deep. We shed tears, we prayed, we held hands. And it was like, Oh my gosh, this was the relief that I didn’t know I needed. So we started doing that every month, or every other month. There was no real formality to it. Our attire was very “show up as you are.” Like, you don’t have to get cute. This is an opportunity for you to let your hair down. So I also think that helped with the atmosphere of people feeling comfortable.

We were doing that for a couple of months and then, I was on the phone with a girlfriend of mine in New York and I was telling her about it and just how helpful it had been. And she said, “Oh, I want to start that in New York.” And I was like, uh no, it’s mine. (laughs) And then it couldn’t have been a day or two when God was like, how could you see how beneficial this has been for the women that you’ve been getting together with and not share this with other women? It was as though He was saying, like, how dare you? So I said okay, I hear you loud and clear. I put a format together. The main rule is that you start with your whine and you end with your cheese. So we’re always ending in a space of gratitude. And I called my friend back up and I said, “Here it is, it’s yours. Run with it!” And since then, she told a friend who lived in Charlotte, who told a friend who lived in Atlanta. And well, we’ve launched over 30 branches since. 

Wow! Congratulations.

Thank you! Thank you. It’s interesting because we’ve really not done a lot of promotion. Everything has been organic. It’s been a lot of word of mouth, which confirms for me that this is a need that women have. And initially, it was all women, whoever wanted to join. At some point, though, I had to acknowledge that the women who were showing up were Black women, between the ages of 25 and 40 at the time. They were the ones who needed this space the most. For a long time, I was hesitant about saying this is an organization for Black women because I didn’t want it to feel exclusive. But at the end of the day, this is who is showing up. So why not create a space that calls us out and calls us in?

Yes. That is so awesome. And is it still, I mean, if someone else were to show up, I’m just curious…?

They’re welcome, but with an understanding of the space. . .I’m trying to figure out how to word this. You are welcomed as a woman, but most of the resources and the conversations are geared toward those who identify as Black women. So if you can find your footing in this space — the way Black people have had to for so long — then you are more than welcome. But I decided to be true to the women who showed up for this. as our membership evolves, our offerings will reflect that, but for now this is what it is. 

Right. And so how did you come into the role of spacemaker?  It can be very hard to do. There’s a delicate way of having to kind of manage different personalities and needs. What do you think prepared you to step into that role?

I wish I had a really good answer for you on that one. It’s  like the Maybelline tag line, you know. Maybe she’s born with it. (laughs) I feel like, you know, innately since I was a young girl, I’ve been a connector. I’m very much introverted, but when I find my people, I turn up and turn on. When I like your energy, I’m just like, come be a part of my people. I just adopt friends and family along the way. I think that part of me has also translated into professional spaces. I’m the colleague who, people — specifically Black women, but, others as well — will come to and say, “Hey, do you have five minutes? I just need to think through this idea.” Or, you know, “I need another perspective on this.” And it’ll become a closed door, hour-long conversation by the time we’re done. So I can’t pinpoint what prepared me for Whine & Cheese other than God and what He placed in me, you know? 

What do you think you’ve personally gained from Whine & Cheese, as a participant?

Oh, gosh. It has given me some amazing relationships. The very first branch that I launched, we were together for six and a half years before there were life changes and relocations. And then, I ended up starting another branch. So, as a participant it’s given me lifelong friendships and bonds. Your friendships are a reflection of who you are, and usually you pick friends that feel safe or that you share some commonalities. But to be able to connect organically with women who you may not have been friends with otherwise, I think has given me a greater perspective and understanding of myself, and opened me up to new and unexpected things. These women have been able to pour into me in a way that I have just never felt before. And that’s not a knock to my day one friends, but there’s something special about being able to form friendships as adult women.

Yes! Yes, that’s so tough!

And, you know, there’s no pretense with Whine & Cheese. There’s no, what can you do for me? It’s just, I want to see you win, sis. And that gives me a renewed hope. When I see that among women — who I believe are the head of society, the changemakers — I get a renewed hope for what this world can be. And, then, I’ve been introduced to so many other gifts and talents that either they poured out, or that have been brought out of me. And just having this cheerleading squad. There’s a  whole list of benefits.

Incredible. I mean, what a wonderful space you’ve created. So, how can women get involved? 

That’s a good question. So to join Whine and Cheese is very simple. Just go to our website https://foreverywhine.org/, and sign up. In light of the pandemic and other life changes that have kept us apart, I've been searching for a way to bring us all together on a safe, yet personal level. So recently, we launched a mobile app to connect women in the same area and around the country. We’re a non-profit organization now, which I decided to incorporate in 2014, so a portion of the membership fee is tax deductible. Once it’s safe, if members want to start a branch, or small group, with other members in their city, that’s certainly an option and points back to the foundation of our organization — being able to move away from the screen and interact in person. 

Once someone decides they want to start a branch, I would schedule a call with her to be sure that this is the right fit. Not so much to vet them, but because there is a responsibility one must have to the collective when deciding to facilitate a safe space for women. So we’ll have a conversation, and then I’ll walk them through the very easy process of getting started. I literally have a framework for them to follow. Within the app, we share everything from funny memes and songs that get us amped, to affirmations and daily devotionals. We host regular events via Zoom that help achieve our personal and professional goals and we also have an annual retreat where we can get together for a long weekend to bond and build community. The last retreat was in this beautiful 15-bedroom villa in Orlando. We had so much fun! So after the country tackles the Coronavirus, we will be planning the next one. So yeah, that’s how it works!

Wonderful. This was incredible and I’m so impressed with what you’ve built and how you’re managing it. Thank you so much for sharing, Natalie!

Of course. Thank you!

Natalie (center) and members of Whine & Cheese.

Natalie (center) and members of Whine & Cheese.


Please share this post with a friend, and follow us at @BlackWomenWorkIG!

January 27, 2021 /Pier Duncan
Entrepreneurship, Community-Building, Nonprofit
Kharmika.jpg

Kharmika Tillery Alston, Real Estate Broker and Entrepreneur

July 09, 2020 by Pier Duncan in Real Estate, Entrepreneurship, Community-Building, Wealth Building

Hey, Kharmika! So in whatever terms feel best, can you describe what you do?

I’m a real estate broker. I help people buy, sell, and invest in real estate. I sell commercial and residential real estate, including land and leases. I’m also what I consider an aspiring social entrepreneur. I would like for the transactional nature of real estate to translate to real results for people, with a greater social impact. For example, there are people where nobody in their family has owned a house. A woman told me the story of how her grandmother lived in the same house for 35 years and it was considered the family house. When her grandmother passed away she was surprised to learn that her grandmother never owned the home. Or, take millennials, who have had a really tough time accumulating wealth. When the pandemic occurred, our generation  had barely recovered from the recession in 2008/2009, and have remained saddled with student loan debt, consumer debt, or even medical debt. So I’m building a business that supports those who are likely to experience anything from run-of-the-mill discrimination to redlining when buying a home. I work with anyone and everyone — first-generation property owners, millennials, Zoomers, and especially those from marginalized groups who have suffered because of the racial wealth gap. 

I can also share the reason I consider myself an aspiring social entrepreneur. I don’t want to sell real estate at a high level forever. I want to get to the point where the cash flow allows me to contribute to the community philanthropically. I want to disrupt the way nonprofits work in our community. You’ve seen organizations that have one Black person on staff who is of the community. Meanwhile, everyone else at that nonprofit has achieved real wealth and can afford to work for less competitive salaries, or they have a wealthy partner and don’t need to make a high wage at this nonprofit and take that pay cut. I want to disrupt that. I want to promote people from these communities and who are of these communities having a real say in the economic development of these communities. That’s a long-term goal. 

With those particular outcomes in mind, how do you tailor your approach or the way you run your business? How do you make sure you attract that diverse group of people you want to empower? 

I have a website called LiveLoveDurham.com, which is the main way I connect with folks. I’m thinking of overhauling it to focus less on real estate, and more lifestyle or community-oriented. If you look at the blog section, there is lots of curated content to educate people, but on the bio page I’m explicitly announcing my job and brokerage. I think I may take that out because many real estate agents avoid having real conversations around race, class, and ethnicity for fear of violating the Fair Housing Act. We aren’t supposed to discuss protected classes during the transaction. But conversations outside of the transaction on race and class are needed to  move the conversation forward. So I might take off that identifier so that I can discuss the things I want to discuss and how I want to discuss them. LiveLoveDurham.com also has a connected Instagram page, where I say I move past the transactional nature of real estate to have curated conversations and give my insights, not only as a Black woman living here, but also as a millennial. It’s real estate and community development from my vantage point. I also provide a lot of free and helpful content there through my Instagram TV videos. 

How did you arrive at this philosophy of service? 

I was living in Amsterdam, finishing the last leg of what I had intended to be my long-term federal government job. I wanted to start buying real estate, and was wondering where I should buy. I decided I wanted to buy somewhere in a community that I felt part of, and one that I could afford. So then I started looking at the market in Durham more closely, because I went to UNC Chapel Hill nearby for undergrad, and Duke for my master’s degree, and my husband was born and raised in Durham. It felt organic to come back here after living overseas for a few years. I would look at trends and saw there were a lot of articles like “best quality of life in the South,” or “best place for millennials” -- on and on, for entrepreneurship, for women. I thought, Woah, Durham is getting all of these accolades! 

We moved back stateside, to Durham, and I transitioned from my government job to working for a community bank — what they call a CDFI [community development financial institution]. A CDFI is a designation out of the Department of Treasury to essentially indicate that a particular bank serves the community better than, for example, Wells Fargo or Chase, and that’s based on a congressional act. Like you need to better serve the communities where you are physically located by providing valuable services such as mortgages, small business loans, etc. CDFIs began as an answer to that. So I did that for 15 months while I worked on getting my real estate license. What I learned is that Black people and Latinx people to a lesser degree really don’t benefit from all the affluent accolades the Triangle area has been receiving. There’s still really large wealth disparities. I thought, What can I do in my real estate vertical to improve these socioeconomic trends? That is where LiveLoveDurham.com came in, where I began highlighting POC-owned businesses, artists and creatives, and then also providing really distilled tips on real estate that anybody can just read and understand. There is so much information out there that isn’t helpful or is positioned as helpful but is actually intended to drive a profit. There’s so much misguidance. 

You’ve just named a few, but can you share some of the common obstacles people in marginalized communities face in terms of real estate opportunities? What are some of the experiences you’ve noted?

The racial wealth gap prevents people from having capital to invest. Because wealth is relative, there are people in real estate who don’t realize that putting twenty or thirty thousand down on a home is not within a lot of people’s capability. I had a client that inherited $160,000 from her aunt and used half of it to put down on her house. There are people who think that’s run-of-the-mill. Same at the CDFI where I worked after returning to the States. I worked with food businesses, and people would tell me about how they bootstrapped their way to building a business. Come to find out, their parents gave them a $10,000 loan to start the business. That’s a well-documented trend. The Pew Research Center says that friends and family invest $90 billion per year in their loved ones’ businesses. But that’s not the case for Black people. If anything, we have a significant capital gap. That impacts our ability to get a real estate loan, or to live in certain neighborhoods. Even some of the programs designed to close the racial wealth gap aren’t cutting it. The FHA has a product where you only have to put 3.5% down of the total purchase price. But you may only get qualified for $120,000. That’s not going to get much in Durham. Also, the racial wealth gap has a real, tangible impact on small business owners who want to buy or invest in real estate and thrive. 

I’d like to hear more about your background. You brought up your time in the State Department, and then you moved on to the CDFI. When you look back on all of these experiences, do you feel there’s some throughline that kind of pulled you to this point?

The throughline was seeking entrepreneurship, the ability to innovate, and to see results. When you work in government, your ideas, things like progress and improvement, results — those aren’t concepts in government. Government is all about the status quo — incrementalism, if that. I looked around and felt like, OK, everyone seems fine with relishing in mediocrity. I’m working three to four times harder than everyone else. So this presents an overworth on my part to this agency, but I can take these talents to where there isn’t a ceiling, and my hard work gets better results. I wanted to go somewhere I could be compensated monetarily and fulfilled. I wanted to get a return on those efforts emotionally, mentally, and financially. That’s what made me think, where can I go? 

Let me back up. I started in the State Department at 24 years old. At that time, I didn’t know all capitalist-driven workplaces thrive on the ideas of others without adequate compensation, specifically Black women. I didn’t know it wasn’t just the State Department. It’s everything. It’s everywhere. It wasn’t just at the community bank, or Wall Street banks. Just...period. Think about where our community would be if Black women just disinvested all their time and energy from white-led organizations, and put those efforts into their community? Our community would be leaps and bounds ahead of where we are now. 

Go off, Kharmika! 

It would be transformative, right? Once I had that epiphany, I had to move on. When you work for the government, you’re a representative for the government 24/7. Your opinions don’t matter. You just share whatever talking points they want you to share. That was very unsustainable for me once I felt like I was really seeing things clearly. And that dissatisfaction became especially resonant during what felt like rampant impunity and lack of concern for Black people being killed by police and during Trump’s presidency, specifically his first 100 days in office. In 2016, police killed more than 250 Black people and yet that remained unaddressed. There was so much gas-lighting and I had to participate in it. I’d reassure our Dutch counterpart that nothing has changed, everything is business as usual, we are hired to defend the Constitution, etc. I was regurgitating all of that but it’s like, who wrote the Constitution? I realized that I had all of these unchecked notions of patriotism, and I hadn’t examined these universal truths or beliefs. But they don’t apply to me and my rights, and they weren’t created with me in mind, so why am I defending this document? So as July 2017 approached and my tour in Amsterdam was set to end, I decided it was a good time to end my career with the State Department. 

We don’t get the acknowledgement or recognition we deserve as Black women. I think about how that journalist said he couldn’t focus on Representative Maxine Waters’ comments because of her “James Brown hair.” This is one of the longest-standing members of Congress. Or when [journalist] April Ryan was in a White House Press Corps briefing and shook her head as [former press secretary] Sean Spicer was speaking, and he condescendingly told her to stop. A few years later, an Asian-American journalist [Weijia Jiang] challenged the President when he directed her to ask China about the coronavirus. She was able to do that because April Ryan set the precedent for challenging authority in that space. Yet in this more recent incident, the journalist was praised and April Ryan, at the time, had to defend her actions. And so again I’m asking if acclaimed journalists and distinguished members of Congress can’t get recognized for their contributions, then what chance do I have? I can’t keep doing this for thirty, forty years. I had to break free. 

So looking ahead, what impact are you seeking to create with LiveLoveDurham.com, and what are your next steps toward that vision? 

There are certain financial and economic milestones I need to hit before I tell other people how to build their own wealth. I would like to sell real estate at a very high level, and then make sure that I’m always making space for those who wouldn’t ordinarily get a second look for certain properties. Even now, I try to put that into practice. I just got off the phone with a cosmetologist who was looking for commercial space, and had little idea about what is involved in that process. Many people would easily have hung up on her because it was clear that she was just starting out, and her understanding isn’t as sophisticated yet. But in helping her, my hope is that in five, six, seven years, she can support others and pay it forward. 

I also want to continue creating wealth for my family and myself, and learning how to create generational wealth. We need to know what it’s like working for ourselves at a high level, and a lot of Black women and men pour into these organizations we work for, with little to show for it in personal wealth. For example, think about how many Black women are teachers. Teachers in North Carolina get paid so little, despite giving so much to the community and to their students. And yet, the state doesn’t respect teachers which has a fairly large representation of Black women. I want to make sure we take care of ourselves, no matter the work we do or what background we’re coming from. So that’s the vision, empowering myself and my family, and creating generational wealth, while helping others do the same. 



Please share this post with a friend, and follow us at @BlackWomenWorkIG!

July 09, 2020 /Pier Duncan
Real Estate, Entrepreneurship, Community-Building, Wealth Building
2 Comments
SherrellWhitmire1.JPG

Sherrell Whitmire, Youth Development Program Director & Professional Dancer

January 16, 2020 by Pier Duncan in Social Work, Dance, Youth Development, Community-Building

Hey, Sherrell! How would you describe what you do? 

I sometimes say that I am a dancing social worker. I am a trained dancer, but currently I work with youth as Program Director of the first NYPD [New York Police Department] community center, located in the East New York/Brownsville neighborhood in Brooklyn. It’s the first initiative of its kind, focused on facilitating programs and relationship-building between the NYPD and young people. We offer programming for 12-19 year olds in the community that will expose them to different kinds of career pathways through extracurricular opportunities such as internships, a youth council, dance, an aviation program, and so many other things our youth may not otherwise be able to engage in. 

How do you think this community center will be useful for young people?

The community center will be useful to young people because it will provide resources that have not been offered continuously in the community. In addition to resources, I think it’s important to encourage civic engagement, and to provide a safe space for young people to process their surroundings. What do you see happening in your community? What do you like, and what do you not like? East New York is slowly being gentrified, so how do you maintain the essence of the community while others are coming in. My hope is that our programming will allow young people to step into this conversation, as well promote youth engagement and exposure to various internships that will allow them to gain skills and possible career interest in the programs being taught. 

You alluded to it a bit earlier, but how did you transition from being a dancer to a social worker? 

I got a full scholarship to college for dance, and since people kept telling me that you can’t make a living off of dance, I did a double major in dance and social work. After college, I moved to New York City because I wanted to say that by 30 years old, I had gone after my dreams. I have been lucky enough to work with a professional dance company, do various gigs, be an NFL cheerleader. I did my first tour, traveled all over the United States, and returned to New York City because I felt that I needed a more sustainable career path. This is where social work came in. While working at an afterschool program as a teaching artist, I began to see how dance can improve so many other things in the lives of young people. I then went to graduate school to obtain a master’s in social work in order to play a larger role in how those kinds of programs serve young people. 

What were some of the critical career steps you’ve experienced leading up to where you’re at today?

While in graduate school, I interned at the Brownsville Community Justice Center working with the young women’s collective. The young ladies were between ages 19 to 24 years old, and we explored community issues that felt meaningful, and organized activities and programs to process those issues. Through various community issues we explored sexual abuse through meditative yoga practice, or psychodrama. 

When I graduated with my MSW, I was asked to work with incarcerated youth placed in alternative programming instead of being sent to Rikers. I would support the young people through their court appearances, talk with the district attorney on their behalf to speak to their character and progress in our programming. Then I was promoted to a role where I was able to think through structuring a workforce development program, and to build a program focusing on social enterprise for young people who have graduated and don’t want to go to college. So the social enterprise track would allow those young people explore how they might grow a DJ business, or launch a t-shirt line -- to become actual entrepreneurs. 

I also had the opportunity to get into placemaking , where we had young people contribute to transforming spaces in their communities where harm has or is currently being done. For example, these might be places where gang violence frequently occurs, or where sexual violence has occurred, or consistent drug use takes place. We explored how to transform those spaces through murals, and let young people take the lead on how that occurs. 

So you’ve really integrated social work and the arts. How do you draw that connection when explaining your work to others?

In most people’s minds the two are unrelated, but to me, the arts and social work are interconnected. Taking dance as an example, movement is therapy. Dance can allow young people to zero in on why they’re having a challenging moment. One day, I would actually like to create my own nonprofit that focuses specifically on arts programming. 

That’s awesome! Tell me more about this nonprofit you’re envisioning. 

I envision it as a creative hub space that provides free services for youth that have a strong interest in being creative -- through movement, theatre, or singing. It would be an outlet for exploration, because despite what people will tell them, these interests can be actual career paths. So having a space to be able to help bring out the gifts and talents of some of our young people is really my dream. Especially considering how the arts are being defunded in our public schools. The arts can teach discipline, and build character -- it’s so important. 

I’d also love to travel and do a workshop series where I travel around the country. Growing up in Columbus, Ohio I never had the opportunity  to leave until I was 23 years old and moved to New York. It’s crazy because when you’re from a small place, you can be the best or the top ten dancers in that town. But when you get to New York City, you realize how much more there is to do in the dance world, or in the arts as a whole. It would have been great for me to be more exposed  when I was younger, so I would want my nonprofit to enable me to bring that kind of knowledge back to my hometown and places like it. If I’d had that help, it would have been wonderful. I love giving back information and resources. My mom did so much for me, but she didn’t know to send me away for the summer to train, or to explore this or that program. There are so many great dancers in places that just need more resources so those young people can really build their craft.

What is your professional support system like?

I’m still seeking a mentor. I do feel that I’m just kind of out here doing this on my own. I think about that every day. My role in East New York/Brownsville has allowed me to stretch my everyday nine-to-five skills, and has rooted me in community engagement with different stakeholders. I’m more integrated into the logistical side of things. I feel that my last job prepared me for this current role because I was doing logic models, program models, youth recruitment. And, before that, my internship experiences rooted me in learning. But I would love to have a mentor to help inform my decision-making, or to help me figure out what direction to take in my career -- what is even out there for me to consider as a next step or in setting up my nonprofit.   

Who inspires you?

My mom. She is a social worker. She helped me think through the type of work I want to engage with in this field. She started in youth development but now she does mental health. I remember her working with young people, and I can see how I really followed in her footsteps. She helped me land on a path. She would say “Do you want to work with adults? Drug and alcohol abuse issues? Do you want to work with kids?”  So she helped me determine a pathway and to identify how my talents can be applied. 

Final question! What are you excited about for your future? 

I would like to create a framework that can be used nationwide or citywide for engaging youth in productive conversations related to their experiences with police. There is such a negative narrative around police engagement efforts and around our young people that has come from the increased coverage of police brutality and harassment. Those narratives are informed by real historic, systemic issues. I hope to find a way to address them head on through conversations between young people and police, to position young people as experts who possess critical information that police departments can really learn from. I am a firm believer that if we make the space for them to do so, youth will step in and lend their knowledge and experiences to the conversation. They’re the future of these communities. I’m excited when I think about how this will affect communities ten years from now, and hopefully be able to say we --  young people, police, politicians, everyone -- made real change in East New York/Brownsville by working together.

SherrellWhitmire2.jpeg

Please share this post with a friend, and follow us at @BlackWomenWorkIG!

January 16, 2020 /Pier Duncan
Social Work, Community, Youth Development, Dance
Social Work, Dance, Youth Development, Community-Building
Comment

Powered by Squarespace