The time is always right...

The community I want...

Even though it's after 10pm and I'm full of fried chicken, I am also energized and hopeful. This is always how I feel after a Swirl dinner and I get to talk to others who similarly want to be honest about the flaws in our society, and think about positive ways to confront them. And this is not about getting together to pat ourselves on the back for knowing better. We acknowledge our own shortcomings and biases too. And our own inabilities - at times - to confront the very things that we also question.

Multiracial families: Counted but still misunderstood

In the past couple of years, I have noticed a certain complacency that I never noticed before, in my eleven years of leading Swirl. The same passion and the same excitement around building multiracial communities had faded a bit. In the one year leading up to the Presidential election, we launched five new chapters (the norm had been a chapter every year or every other year). People were excited by the energy created by Obama's campaign, and they were motivated and eager to be a part of creating supportive and inclusive multiracial communities.

A life of meaning and worth...

One of my heroes passed away yesterday - Derrick Bell, a law professor and civil rights advocate. Years ago, when I read and resonated with his book, Ethical Ambition, I wrote him a note to thank him. I felt inspired by his choices and his courage to stand up for what he believed in, even when personally risky. I didn't necessarily think that I would hear back, but it was important for me to let him know the impact his writing had on me.

We need new vocabulary

Tonight's conversation at the Brooklyn Historical Museum (BHS) was thought-provoking and energizing.

"What Are You?"

Originally published at The Brooklyn Historical Society Blog

Today’s guest post is by Jen Chau, founder of Swirl, a multi-ethnic, anti-racist organization that promotes cross-cultural dialogue.  “What are you?” is one of those questions like “Where are you from, I mean from from?” that people pose (sometimes ungracefully) when they are curious about someone’s racial/ethnic identity. What Are You? is also the title of an upcoming event (Monday, September 26th at 7pm), part of the Crossing Borders, Bridging Generations series, hosted here at the Brooklyn Historical Society and co-sponsored by Loving Day.  BHS is learning more about Brooklyn’s overlapping, interweaving communities and we hope you’ll join the conversation here in the comments and at upcoming events.

Practice makes progress

In my years of diversity work, I am pretty sure about one thing. The people who are "good" at talking about race issues are those who have practiced.

As a participant in discussions about race, I have heard certain white individuals (not all) lament, "I just don't know how to talk about this stuff." And then I have heard some people of color (not all) in turn, say, "I am tired of talking about this stuff every day."

What me, vulnerable?

It has been nearly two months since I left my full-time job to start out on my own - consulting non-profits and educational orgs, and building my own organization, Swirl.

To be a guru

At the present time, I cannot do a headstand in my yoga practice.Whenever I remove bobby pin and ponytail holder and place the top of my head on the smooth wooden floor of the dimly lit classroom, forearms bracing, it feels like the weight of my body will surely accordion my neck like a used up coke can, causing my head to also combust. I'm pretty sure this will happen. I try to do the pose, but can't seem to achieve it. And so, I have heard many an exasperated teachers' sighs.

Back to the beginning

A friend recently asked me about the beginning of Swirl.

I told her how I started it. And why. She interrupted to clarify - she wanted to know how I felt. What specifically I was experiencing when I came up with the idea, when I took the first steps to incorporate, when it all came to fruition. I had to think about this - after all, it was nearly eleven years ago.

Me & Mr. T

I'm sitting at my table. Tea mug next to me, its mossy-colored liquid rippling and sending its tea bag on mini waves to the beat of my laptop typing. Mr. Tea looks on. He's got his classic mean grill going. But he's just serious. And seriously misunderstood.

I'm glad he's here, because so far, the weirdest thing about working "for myself" is the silence.