This conversation isn’t just for entrepreneurs.

It’s for anyone who hires consultants, works with freelancers, or leads people.

Because honoring someone’s time is one of the simplest and most overlooked forms of respect.

This episode is different.

It’s about grief, leadership, and what it means to keep showing up when life doesn’t pause for what you’re carrying.

I talk about the lessons I learned from her—about strength, dignity, and navigating setbacks in a way that doesn’t require you to abandon yourself.

If you’ve been holding more than people can see, this one is for you.

As I conclude my acknowledgement of Presidents’ Day today, I have been reflecting on the state of leadership. Not just workplace leadership, but leadership in all facets of our lives. Servant Leadership. Empathetic Leadership. Strategic Leadership. But what I have been thinking about most is Dark Leadership. Over the past two weeks, I have been troubled by the continued amplification of Dark leadership. There is something particularly corrosive about watching leadership use race as a tool.

Not as context.
Not as history.
Not as something to understand.

But as a weapon.

When I wrote Part I of When the Leadership Is Dark, I was naming the emotional texture of what happens when leadership shifts from stewardship to spectacle. When it stops being about collective well-being and starts being about dominance, grievance, and control.

This moment reminds me that dark leadership does not just distort policy. It distorts culture.

When public figures target Black leaders like the Obamas with racially coded language, insinuation, or dehumanizing commentary, it is not random. It is strategic. It is an appeal to identity threat. It is an activation of collective resentment. It is the psychological exploitation of culture for power consolidation.

This is not new.

What is dangerous is how normalized it has become.

Leadership research has long warned us about the appeal of what is sometimes called “dark side” leadership. Scholars like Padilla, Hogan, and Kaiser (2007) describe toxic leadership as emerging when destructive leaders, susceptible followers, and conducive environments intersect. It is not only about personality. It is about context.

Dark leadership thrives in climates of uncertainty. It flourishes when economic, demographic, or cultural shifts create anxiety. Under those conditions, leaders can exploit fear to consolidate loyalty.

Social identity theory (Tajfel & Turner, 1979) helps explain why race becomes such a powerful lever. When leaders emphasize group differences and perceived threats, they heighten in-group cohesion while deepening out-group hostility. The stronger the perceived threat, the more tightly followers bond around identity.

Race is the fastest shortcut to that bond in the United States.

Racially charged rhetoric does more than insult. It signals who belongs and who does not. It invites followers to align not around shared democratic values, but around shared bias. It simplifies complex policy realities into emotionally potent cultural flashpoints.

That is not governance.

That is psychological mobilization.

Political psychology research shows that racial resentment can be activated and amplified through elite cues (Mendelberg, 2001). When leaders use coded or explicit racial messaging, it shapes public attitudes, increases polarization, and shifts what becomes socially permissible.

Repeated exposure matters.

Norm theory tells us that when inflammatory rhetoric goes unchecked, it recalibrates what feels normal (Sunstein, 1999). What would once have been widely condemned is now dismissed as “just politics.” Over time, the boundaries of acceptable discourse shift.

That is how dark leadership moves culture.

Not in one dramatic moment.

But in repeated small permissions.

There is also something deeply personal about watching Black excellence be repeatedly targeted. The Obamas represented for many of us a possibility. Discipline. Composure. Intellectual rigor. A model of leadership that was not perfect but was anchored in dignity. When those symbols are attacked through racially loaded insinuation, it destabilizes more than reputation. It destabilizes representation.

Research on racialized stress and discrimination (Carter, 2007) demonstrates that chronic exposure to racial hostility contributes to psychological distress, hypervigilance, and cumulative trauma. Even indirect exposure through media can activate stress responses, particularly when the targets share one’s racial identity.

It is not simply a disagreement.

It is physiological activation layered onto historical memory.

And dark leadership depends on keeping some communities destabilized while energizing others.

This is where cultural intelligence becomes more than a leadership competency. It becomes resistance.

CQ Drive calls us to remain engaged even when we are fatigued by the repetition of racial narratives.

CQ Knowledge reminds us that racial categories are socially constructed and politically manipulated. They are not neutral descriptors. They are historically embedded power systems.

CQ Strategy asks us to slow down before reacting. To recognize when rhetoric is designed to provoke outrage and fracture solidarity.

CQ Action demands alignment between our values and our behavior. It invites us to challenge dehumanization without reproducing it.

The temptation in moments like this is either to escalate or to exhaust oneself. Trust me, I felt the escalation and the exhaustion to the point that I felt lost. I felt like what is the point? Who is taking the time to really see and hear what is going on? In this instance, I enabled Dark leadership to benefit from feelings of escalation and exhaustion. For a moment, I forgot that culturally intelligent leadership requires neither.

Authoritarian-leaning leadership styles often rely on spectacle. They reward loyalty over truth. They elevate grievance over governance. They frame dissent as betrayal.

Research on authoritarian dynamics shows that perceived threat increases public tolerance for norm violations by strong leaders (Hetherington & Weiler, 2009). When fear is activated, democratic guardrails feel less urgent.

This is how culture becomes collateral damage.

The question is not whether rhetoric offends us.

The question is what it trains us to tolerate.

Leadership does not turn dark overnight. It darkens when dehumanization becomes routine. When racial manipulation becomes a strategy. When cruelty becomes currency.

And every time we refuse to participate in that normalization, we disrupt it.

Dark leadership feeds on silence and spectacle.

It weakens in the presence of clarity. I know now more than ever, that I, no WE, must uphold and maintain clarity.

References

Carter, R. T. (2007). Racism and psychological and emotional injury: Recognizing and assessing race-based traumatic stress. The Counseling Psychologist, 35(1), 13–105.

Hetherington, M. J., & Weiler, J. D. (2009). Authoritarianism and polarization in American politics. Cambridge University Press.

Mendelberg, T. (2001). The race card: Campaign strategy, implicit messages, and the norm of equality. Princeton University Press.

Padilla, A., Hogan, R., & Kaiser, R. B. (2007). The toxic triangle: Destructive leaders, susceptible followers, and conducive environments. The Leadership Quarterly, 18(3), 176–194.

Tajfel, H., & Turner, J. C. (1979). An integrative theory of intergroup conflict. In The social psychology of intergroup relations.

Sunstein, C. R. (1999). The law of group polarization. University of Chicago Law School, Public Law Working Paper.

Empathy.
Learning.
Culture.
Diversity, equity, and inclusion.

Labeled “important, but not urgent,” these efforts are frequently paused, defunded, or deprioritized in moments when organizations are under pressure. This episode examines why that happens, what research actually tells us about the cost of those decisions, and how recent national events reveal the real consequences of treating people work as optional.

📚 The Leadership Growth Bundle

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Three Journals. One Integrated Leadership Practice.

The Leadership Growth Bundle is a comprehensive, guided journaling system designed for leaders who want to lead with clarity, emotional steadiness, and cultural intelligence in today’s complex environments.

This bundle brings together three complementary journals that address the inner and outer work of leadership, reflection, emotional regulation, and cultural awareness into one intentional growth journey.

Whether you are a new leader, experienced executive, coach, or facilitator, this bundle helps you build sustainable leadership habits through daily and weekly guided reflection.

You can check them out here: https://stan.store/GreatDane921

https://www.learningforjustice.org/

Every year, Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday arrives with familiarity. Quotes surface. Corporate statements are released. Social feeds fill with carefully curated images of unity. And yet, I find myself asking the same uncomfortable question I ask in my leadership work: What are we actually practicing?

Dr. King did not speak about leadership as optics. He spoke about leadership as moral courage under pressure. As disciplined love. As the willingness to be misunderstood while remaining accountable to humanity. What concerns me in today’s leadership climate is not simply that we have drifted from King’s vision. It is that we have replaced it with something easier to manage and far less demanding.

We have confused visibility with values. Presence with practice. Language with commitment.

King’s leadership was disruptive by design. It was deeply relational, grounded in collective dignity, and rooted in the belief that systems, not just individuals, must change. He understood that injustice is maintained not only by cruelty, but by comfort. That silence, when institutionalized, becomes policy.

Today, many leaders speak fluently about equity while structuring organizations that reward proximity to power over proximity to truth. We celebrate resilience while refusing to examine why so many people are required to be resilient in the first place.

This is not aligned with King’s vision. And if we are honest, we know that.

From a leadership psychology lens, what we are witnessing is a widespread avoidance of imbalance. True leadership requires entering moments where you are not in control, where you are “one down,” to borrow from Edgar Schein’s work on helping relationships. King led from that space constantly. He did not position himself above the struggle. He placed himself inside it.

Modern leadership culture, by contrast, often seeks insulation. From emotion. From accountability. From histories that complicate the narrative of progress.

This is where cultural intelligence becomes not just relevant, but essential.

Cultural intelligence, as articulated by David Livermore and grounded in the foundational work of Earley and Ang, is not about knowing facts about difference. It is about developing the capability to function effectively amid value conflicts, power dynamics, and lived realities that challenge our default ways of leading.

High CQ leaders do not ask, “How do I say the right thing?”
They ask, “How do my decisions land across identities, histories, and systems of meaning?”

From this perspective, much of today’s leadership falls short, not because leaders lack good intentions, but because they lack adaptive capacity. Research consistently shows that leaders who over-rely on familiar norms struggle in complex, multicultural environments, especially when those environments demand moral clarity rather than technical solutions.

King’s leadership was profoundly culturally intelligent. He understood context. He understood power. He understood the emotional labor required to speak to multiple audiences without diluting the truth. He refused the false comfort of neutrality.

What I see now is a cultural regression disguised as stability. A retreat to “safe” leadership models that prioritize control over consciousness. Leaders who want harmony without honesty. Progress without disruption. Justice without discomfort.

And yet, King warned us about this.

He cautioned against the “tranquilizing drug of gradualism.” Against leaders who prefer order to justice. Against the temptation to believe that time alone will fix what courage refuses to confront.

So no, the current leadership moment is not fully aligned with King’s vision. But alignment was never meant to be automatic. It is a choice. A daily one.

King’s birthday should not reassure us. It should unsettle us.

It should force leaders, especially those with positional authority, to ask whether they are practicing the kind of leadership that expands human dignity or merely managing perception. Whether they are building systems that allow people to bring their full selves or asking them to fragment in order to belong.

From a cultural intelligence standpoint, this moment demands more than statements. It demands CQ Drive, the willingness to stay engaged when it would be easier to disengage. CQ Strategy, the ability to reflect on how our leadership defaults may be misaligned with today’s realities. And CQ Action, the courage to change behavior, not just language.

King did not ask leaders to be liked. He asked them to be responsible.

That responsibility did not end with him. It was handed forward.

And the question we must sit with, especially today, is whether we are carrying it with the seriousness it deserves.

Values don’t pay invoices.
But they still matter.

This reflection names the emotional, psychological, and systemic tension between wanting to do meaningful, values-aligned work and needing financial stability in an unpredictable economic and political climate.

Rather than romanticizing struggle or offering shallow platitudes, this episode invites a more honest, grounded reframing of what values-driven work actually requires.

🧭 In This Episode, You’ll Hear About

• Why “just follow your passion” is incomplete (and sometimes harmful) advice
• How capitalism rewards speed, scale, and predictability, not values
• The psychological cost of chronic financial stress on decision-making and well-being
• Why romanticizing struggle disproportionately harms marginalized professionals
• How to redefine values-driven work without abandoning sustainability
• Letting go of the false binary between purpose or survival

🧠 Research & Frameworks Referenced

This episode is grounded in leadership psychology, motivation research, and organizational studies, including:

Self-Determination Theory (SDT)

Developed by Edward Deci and Richard Ryan, Self-Determination Theory identifies three core psychological needs required for human motivation and well-being:

• Autonomy – having agency and choice
• Competence – feeling effective and capable
• Relatedness – experiencing meaningful connection

Values-aligned work often supports these needs, which is why it can feel deeply fulfilling. However, research also shows that chronic financial insecurity undermines these same needs, limiting cognitive bandwidth, autonomy, and long-term planning.

Scarcity & Cognitive Load

Research in behavioral economics and psychology demonstrates that financial scarcity narrows attention and impairs decision-making, creativity, and self-regulation.

When survival is uncertain, the brain prioritizes immediacy over meaning, making it harder for purpose-driven work to thrive.

Burnout & Effort–Reward Imbalance

Organizational psychology research consistently shows that burnout is strongly associated with misalignment between effort and reward, not a lack of passion or commitment.

Values-driven professionals often burn out not because they care too much, but because systems extract meaning without providing sustainability.

📚 Selected Research References

Deci, E. L., & Ryan, R. M. (2000).
The “what” and “why” of goal pursuits: Human needs and the self-determination of behavior. Psychological Inquiry, 11(4), 227–268.

Mullainathan, S., & Shafir, E. (2013).
Scarcity: Why having too little means so much. Times Books.

Maslach, C., & Leiter, M. P. (2016).
Understanding the burnout experience: Recent research and its implications for psychiatry. World Psychiatry, 15(2), 103–111.

✍🏽 Reflection Questions for Listeners

• Where have I been equating struggle with integrity?
• What would sustainability look like if I stopped moralizing money?
• Which values am I protecting, and which ones am I over-sacrificing?

🔗 Continue the Conversation

If this episode resonated, consider sharing it with someone navigating the same tension or leave a review to help others find the podcast.

In the next episode, Danielle explores why important work often goes unfunded—and what leaders misunderstand about people-centered work in times of uncertainty.

Imani (Faith)

Empathy Focus: Trust & hope

Prompt:
What keeps me believing in people, even when leadership feels heavy?

Leadership Practice:
Speak hope aloud; name what you still believe is possible for your community, team, or future.

Empathy Focus: Imagination & repair

Prompt:
What new approach could reduce friction, harm, or exclusion?

Leadership Practice:
Create something—a note, post, framework, or conversation—that helps someone feel seen.

Nia (Purpose)

Empathy Focus: Meaning-making

Prompt:
How does my work reduce harm or increase dignity for others?

Leadership Practice:
Write a one-sentence purpose statement that centers people, not productivity.

The Leadership Reflection Journal Is LIVE!

Head over to my Stan Store and pick up your copy today! Get re-aligned for and in 2026!

Ujamaa (Cooperative Economics)

Empathy Focus: Equity & sustainability

Prompt:
Where do my choices benefit me but strain others?

Leadership Practice:
Support a Black-owned or values-aligned business, mutual aid effort, or creator, and name why it matters.

The Leadership Reflection Journal Soft Launch

This has been a labor of love, and I am excited to share my Leadership Reflection Journal: A 30-Day Guided Practice for Intentional, Values-Aligned Leadership with you all, my subscribers, in advance.

Leadership doesn’t grow through urgency alone.
It grows through reflection, awareness, and intentional choice.

Head over to my stan store and get your advanced digital copy now before the price goes up tomorrow, December 30.

Empathy Focus: Shared accountability

Prompt:
Whose labor or emotional load have I overlooked?

Leadership Practice:
Acknowledge someone’s contribution publicly or redistribute a burden you’ve noticed but ignored.

Empathy Focus: Honoring lived experience

Prompt:
Where am I leading from expectation instead of understanding my own needs or limits?

Leadership Practice:
Name one boundary you will honor this week as an act of self-respect and self-empathy

.

DAY 1 — Umoja (Unity)

Empathy Focus: Belonging & psychological safety

Prompt:
Where have I unintentionally created distance instead of connection in my leadership or relationships?

Leadership Practice:
Reach out to someone you haven’t checked on recently. Ask how they’re really doing, and listen without fixing.

We’re told that layoffs are “business decisions,” that resilience means bouncing back quickly, and that if we optimize our resumes, network harder, or pivot faster, things will work out. What we don’t talk about enough is what happens when the search stretches on, when the rules change mid-career, and when the systems we trusted stop recognizing our contributions.

Keirsten’s story isn’t about failure. It’s about faith, grief, pride, identity, and endurance. It’s about what it feels like to do everything you were told would lead to stability, and still find yourself waiting for a yes that hasn’t arrived.

I’m sharing this because these stories deserve air. Because silence compounds shame. And because if you see yourself anywhere in her words, you should know: you are not alone, and you are not invisible.

No one prepares you for what it feels like to be still searching three years after a layoff, especially when you did everything “right.”

I was laid off on January 18, 2023, after spending 25 years building a career I was proud of. A career that grew steadily, promotion by promotion, from department assistant to senior director. I believed my experience would speak for itself. I believed my network would matter. I believed that dedication, leadership, and loyalty would translate into opportunity. Instead, I found myself entering a job market that no longer recognizes those currencies.

What I thought would be a brief pause turned into years of rewriting resumes, submitting applications into silence, and questioning how a career that once felt so solid could suddenly feel invisible. The longer the search stretched on, the more disorienting it became, not just professionally, but emotionally and spiritually. How quickly confidence can erode when your work, your worth, and your future all feel up for debate at the same time.

I’ve applied to corporate positions, retail jobs, roles that would be a complete career pivot, and jobs outside the industry in which I built my career, where my transferable skills should clearly apply. I’ve applied for positions well below my senior-level experience. I’ve rewritten my resume more times than I can count. Tailored it. Simplified it. Reframed it. Removed things. Added things back. And still, countless rejection emails. And even more silence. Companies ghost. Applications disappear. You follow up, and nothing comes back.

Searching on job sites often feels like a black hole of despair. Instead of hope, they bring anxiety. I see so many posts from people in the same position I’m in (or worse), losing their homes, feeling desperate, forced to move in with family, and I fear that hearing their story will become mine.

I’ve reached out to people I know in fields I’m interested in. Many have been kind and willing to talk. But without a specific role to offer, there’s often nothing more they can do. Conversations end politely, but the outcome remains the same.

I have a family. A husband and, for the last two years, two children in college. We are now partly living off savings and dipping into retirement funds, something I never imagined doing at this stage of my life. I am deeply grateful to have a supportive husband with a steady job and health benefits for our family. That is not lost on me. It is a huge blessing. And still, I never thought I’d be here three years later.

What surprises me the most is not just how long this has taken but how different the rules are now. After college, I was laid off from my first job after three years. But within three months, I landed my dream job in the Entertainment Industry. I started at my last company in June of 1998 as a department assistant, and at the time of the layoff, I was a senior director.

It was everything I imagined a dream corporate career could be. I worked with top celebrities. I produced photo shoots and spent hours on TV sets. I attended award shows. I traveled for business. I participated in leadership programs, corporate events, and hiring decisions. I led teams. I built relationships. I grew. And yet, today, I still cannot find a job.

What’s been especially hard is the lack of response and the few interviews. In some ways, I’ve learned to accept that. I tell myself I’d rather receive a clear “no” upfront than go through rounds of interviews only to hear, “We’re moving forward with another candidate.” I’ve watched others endure that heartbreak repeatedly.

This journey has been incredibly lonely.

What surprised me most was the support that disappeared when I needed it most. Colleagues I worked alongside for decades, people who once said they loved working with me, viewed me as a friend and supported me while we were colleagues, went silent the moment I was laid off. After 25 years, that hurt in ways I didn’t expect. The loss wasn’t just professional; it was relational.

For 25 years, my career wasn’t just what I did; it became a part of who I was. My work gave me structure, confidence, and a sense of worth, and losing it meant quietly questioning all three at once. I didn’t realize how deeply my identity had been tied to my job until it was suddenly gone, leaving space filled with doubt, grief, and fear I wasn’t prepared for. Untangling who I am from what I did has taken time, patience, and more emotional strength than I ever expected.

As I head into a new year, I’m carrying a lot of questions.

Where is my “yes”?

I admit, I wrestle with pride. I question why I should have to remove some of my past from my resume to get an interview. I shouldn’t have to remove my experience from my resume. I shouldn’t have to downplay my skills. I shouldn’t have to accept less than I deserve. And yet, I’m willing to do what I need to do for my family.

I’ve started a virtual assistant business, though I don’t have clients yet. I am an author. I create inspirational products for children and women. I freelance with brands, creating content. These things matter to me. They bring purpose. But right now, they are not bringing in the income I need or desire.

So, I ask myself hard questions:

What if a corporate job is not for me anymore?
Can I truly make enough money on my own?
Will I be happy in the workforce again if I do return?
Is this season pushing me toward something I haven’t fully accepted yet?

What keeps me grounded is my faith.

I continue to pray. I continue to focus on reinventing myself. I stay hopeful, even when it’s hard. I choose to believe that God has not carried me this far to fail me now.

This story isn’t neat. It isn’t resolved. But it’s real. And if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that my brilliance didn’t disappear when my job did, even on the days when the world makes me question it.

Keirsten Wanamaker is a former Senior Director of Photography at a Paramount company and a graduate of Hampton University.

You can reach Keirsten at https://linktr.ee/superbzzmom11

If this story stirred something in you, take a moment to sit with these questions:

• What part of your identity feels most tender or uncertain right now?

• Where have you been doing “everything right” and still waiting for traction?

• What questions are you carrying into this season that don’t yet have answers?

• What does faith, hope, or self-trust look like for you when certainty is missing?

If you feel moved to share your story, whether publicly or privately, I invite you to do so. This space is for honesty, not perfection. For stories still unfolding. For voices that deserve to be heard even before the ending is clear.

You can respond in the comments, reply to this post, or message me directly at info@greatdane921.com. I’m listening.

- Dr. Dannie

Some understanding comes later.

Some growth can remain quiet.

Take care of yourself as you continue.

Kea’s story is the first I’m sharing because it names what so many are living through quietly: a job search shaped by algorithms, shrinking wages, disappearing safety nets, and the emotional toll of doing everything “right” and still being left without answers. This is not about individual failure. It’s about a system under strain, and the people absorbing the cost of that strain every day.

I’m terminated.

I’ve been here before, or so I thought. Update the resume. Toggle LinkedIn to “Open to Work.” Start applying.

But this time, nothing worked, and the longer it went on, the clearer it became that this wasn’t a personal failure. It was something much bigger.

I’m a Gen X woman who did everything I was supposed to do. I went to school. I worked for decades. I earned certifications and licenses. I built a career that once would have been considered stable. And yet, nearly a year later, I’m still searching, not just for a job, but for certainty in an economy that keeps moving the goalposts.

A few things have changed since my last job search, thanks to ChatGPT and AI; now, resumes and cover letters are expected to be tailored to each job description I respond to. It has to appeal to the software gatekeepers with all the key words before I reach a human being. There needs to be keywords at every bullet point in my work history. Nearly every agent I speak to has a suggestion for how to adjust my resume. It should be one page, but no more than two. The job tasks I explain should use active verbs rather than passive verbs. The descriptions of job tasks and responsibilities should reflect how long I worked there, irrespective of what I actually did from one place to another. My resume has to be true while also being a beautiful-looking story to get past the software gatekeepers and make a human want to call me. It was a change. I did all of the things.

I signed up for unemployment insurance. I expected the historic 26-week payment period. I didn’t think I would use the entire six months of payments. It’s never taken so long for me to find a job. I didn’t think about it. I sent resumes. I interviewed, virtually and in person. I waited. Nothing. I spoke with agents. More nothing. They mostly said the same thing. The first nine months of 2025 were slow. No one could predict what the New Administration’s tariffs would do to the economy. Firms are collecting resumes, but not hiring.

The Fall months of 2025 had the biggest surprise for me. I’m meeting and interviewing in the second and third rounds. I speak to the agent. Nothing. Days to weeks later, I get a call from a new agent about the same job opening with the same firm that I was perfect for; only this time the role was offering ten to twenty thousand less in annual salary. I circled back to the first agent. I interviewed well. I have the skills, college education, and experience. They’re looking for me at a lower salary. I was stunned the first time I got a call like this.

It’s October. My unemployment benefits have run out. My State Governor has now raised the disbursement amount for newly laid-off workers. Two calls later, from new agents about roles I interviewed for that I was perfect for made no sense. I got on the phone and called the original agents in every case. If I am what they are looking for and the only issue is salary, let’s discuss what I need them to negotiate. I have a floor, a salary that I need to live on, but I also have a range that I can live with.

Looking for work has never taken an entire year before. I asked around. I checked in with friends. I needed to know if my job search efforts this year are yielding no results because of something that I was or was not doing. I asked everyone in my social circles: classmates, sorority sisters, and neighbors. We have the same or similar stories of flat to no results on a job search.

I had two promising interviews this year. One with the Gateway Tunnel Project, connecting New York and New Jersey. The other with a local University. The New Presidential Administration cancelled funding for both.

While working, I was laying the foundation with a partner to set up our own company. In February, my partner had the paperwork processed to become an official vendor to the Federal government. Of course, funding was cut by the new DOGE managed by Elon Musk. As a result, he could no longer afford to buy his diabetic medication and pay for health insurance without us being able to get the company started. A month ago, he had open-heart surgery after collapsing in a grocery store.

Going into 2026, I don’t know what I should do to make my job search successful. I’ve been living off savings. My peers are also living off savings and their retirement funds. I would generally get a seasonal job to get through the holidays. The local Macy’s closed this Summer due to downsizing. The Starbucks on the corner closed last month. The usual solution of reaching out to friends is not a solution. None of my friends have a job. I hope the new year brings more certainty in the economy so I can find my place in it.

Kea Hodge has been a staff accountant of law and CPA firms. She’s a graduate of CUNY - City College of New York and a resident of Brooklyn, NYC.

Kea’s story is not unique, and that’s the point. It reflects a growing reality for mid-career professionals, caregivers, and workers who built their lives around the promise that education, experience, and effort would lead to stability.

If this story resonated with you, you are not alone, and you are not imagining things. The job market has changed. The rules have shifted. And many of us are still being measured by standards that no longer reflect the world we’re living in.

I invite you to respond in the comments or reply to this post. Share what your job search has been like this year. What surprised you? What support disappeared when you needed it most? What questions are you carrying into the new year?

These stories matter. Naming them is how we begin to make sense of what’s happening, and how we remind one another that we are not failing alone.

What has this year asked you to let go of, and what has it asked you to stand firmer in?

So many of us feel undervalued.
Many of us have questioned our own brilliance.
Many of us carry wounds from our professional journeys.

Not because we lack talent.
Not because we lack capacity.
Not because we lack vision.

But because of the environments we’ve had to survive.

Today, I’m writing to gather our stories.

Not the filtered versions.
Not the corporate-safe versions.
Not the ones we’ve edited to “keep the peace.”

But the real ones.

I want to hear your story.

Your story as a leader.
Your story as a Black woman in the workplace.
Your story of mentorship, uplift, and visibility.
Your story of gaslighting, microaggressions, erasure, or discrimination.

How has your workplace experience shaped you—personally and professionally?
Has it shaped how you show up? How you lead? How you set boundaries?
Has it impacted your confidence? Your choices? Your job search?

What steps have you taken to move forward?
What have you learned?
How have you healed, or how are you learning to heal?

Why this matters right now.

We are living in a moment where the cultural narrative is shifting.
Culture is no longer an afterthought—it is a driving force in how we engage with the world.

Cultural intelligence matters.
Belonging matters.
Psychological safety matters.

And the experiences of Black women, the most studied, policed, appropriated, and yet least protected group in the workplace, are central to that conversation.

Our stories rarely get told without distortion.
I want us to tell them in our own voices.

If you feel called to share, I invite you to participate.

You may share anonymously or with your name.
To contribute your story, please email me at:

👉 info@greatdane921.com

Names will be changed or omitted entirely to protect those who share.

This is not about blame.
It is about documentation, reflection, and truth-telling.
It is about capturing the full spectrum of our experiences, whether joyful, painful, complex, or transformative.

Let’s gather our stories.
Let’s affirm our worth.
Let’s honor our journeys.
Let’s reclaim the narrative that has never been ours to begin with—but always ours to shape.

With love and solidarity,
Dr. Dannie

We’re not just in ideological battles anymore. We’re in a full-blown culture war where definition itself is contested. Across the United States, history is being edited, identities are being politicized, and belonging is being debated on the evening news. From efforts to erase Black history to public backlash against Bad Bunny performing at the Super Bowl, it’s clear: America is fighting over what “culture” even means.

When critics demand a return to “American culture,” I hear them asking: whose America? Whose voices? Whose history? The phrase sounds innocuous. Who could argue with American culture? But it’s a trap if it excludes. The hard truth is that there has never been one singular “American culture.” The phrase often implies a sanitized nostalgia, one that centers whiteness, dismisses difference, and resists evolution. Yet, America’s cultural DNA has always been plural, rhythmic, and contradictory, built by Indigenous, Black, immigrant, and diasporic hands. The louder the calls grow to “protect American culture,” the clearer it becomes that this phrase is less about unity and more about control.

So when we talk about cultural intelligence today, we can’t treat it as a neutral skill set. CQ is not just about managing diverse teams or navigating international business. It’s about recognizing who holds the mic, who’s silenced, and who gets to define “normal.”

This is where dark leadership comes in. Leaders with high cultural intelligence but low integrity can weaponize culture for control. They know how to read the room, shape narratives, and use inclusive language to mask exclusionary agendas. In a climate like this, where misinformation and fear sell, darkly intelligent leaders thrive.

As a Black Caribbean American woman, I see the stakes clearly. My heritage represents the essence of what America actually is, an ever-evolving blend of resilience, resistance, rhythm, and reinvention. But that story rarely gets top billing in the so-called “American narrative.”

The irony? The very diversity some wish to erase is what makes this country extraordinary.

That’s why this culture war isn’t just political, it’s psychological, ethical, and spiritual. It forces us to ask:

• Who defines belonging?

• What stories deserve preservation?

• And can a nation built on contradiction ever truly be “free”?

True cultural intelligence demands that we wrestle with these questions not from fear but from empathy. It challenges us to hold tension, honor difference, and lead with courage rather than control.

The real danger isn’t that culture is changing; it’s that some leaders are using that change to manipulate, divide, and dominate. That’s where dark leadership shows its hand: charismatic, culturally fluent, yet morally hollow.

The antidote is awareness. It is conscious, compassionate, culturally grounded leadership, the kind that doesn’t just adapt to culture but protects it.

We must celebrate belonging as both a birthright and a responsibility. America doesn’t belong to one group. It belongs to all who contribute, all who question, all who believe in possibility.

So the next time someone insists we “get back to American culture,” ask them:
Which version? Whose story?
Because the truest version of America is still being written, by all of us.

This August, I chose to step away. It’s my first birthday without my mom, and I knew I couldn’t just power through it like another day on the calendar. Grief has a way of humbling you, slowing you down, and asking you to honor both the loss and the love that came before it. So, I gave myself permission to pause—to sit with the silence, the memories, and the ache.

But here’s the thing about grief: it also brings its own unexpected beauty. For nearly three weeks now, a single hummingbird has been visiting my deck. It flutters around the Spanish thyme plants my mom once tended, then darts to the kitchen window as if to remind me, I see you. You’re not alone.

Hummingbirds are more than just tiny creatures with fast wings. They symbolize resilience, hope, and new beginnings. Despite their size, they travel great distances, navigating storms and uncertainty with astonishing grace. They hover, adjust, and keep moving forward. In many cultures, hummingbirds are seen as messengers—reminders of joy, adaptability, and the possibility of renewal.

In this season of loss, that little bird has become my teacher. It whispers that grief and hope can coexist. That even in heartbreak, there is space for something new to bloom. That maybe, like the hummingbird, I can find ways to keep moving—lightly, intentionally—even when the weight of absence feels overwhelming.

As a professional, it’s easy to compartmentalize: to show up polished, productive, and ready, even when your heart feels shattered. But the hummingbird reminds me that functioning in grief isn’t about perfection. It’s about adapting, pausing when you need to, and letting yourself find hope in unexpected places.

So this August became both a retreat and a renewal. I’m learning that my mom’s love is still here—woven into the thyme, in the hum of wings, in the reminder that life, though fragile, is also endlessly resilient. And just maybe, like that hummingbird, I’m being nudged toward new opportunities, new ways to fly.