An Anti-Racism Triad

Reflection by Nancy Willbanks

For the past year and nine months, I have been meeting monthly in an anti-racism triad. We each had participated in one of the several book groups reading My Grandmother’s Hands by Resmaa Menakem (link to Bookshop.org) under the auspices of Music That Makes Community in 2021 and 2022. (See more about forming a triad in this article: When White Bodies say, "Tell me what to do.") 

We meet on zoom. I knew Jeremy from Monday Morning Grounding, and I didn’t know April at all, before we started meeting. We made a commitment for a year, and we are still meeting because we all find the hour and fifteen minutes we spend together each month valuable. We live in Massachusetts, Arizona and South Dakota. We juggle competing schedules and time zones. We are all in ministry and ordained. Jeremy and I are pastors and April is a chaplain at a community hospital. Jeremy is in a community where the BIPOC population is primarily from the Lakota tribe, while April sees a broader range of ethnicities in the hospital setting, including Native Americans, Latinx, and Black. In my neighborhood, the BIPOC people I see or interact with are Asian (including my daughter), Black, and Latinx.   

Each month we share some of our own noticings about racism that we have witnessed or heard or read about, and we share a somatic practice, often from My Grandmother’s Hands, and we share a song. Sometimes in between our meetings we text.