I didn’t always have the words for it, but I’ve always known the weight of systems that weren’t built for people like me. My journey into decolonization began in an unexpected place: a university classroom at DU, where I learned the language to name what I’d long felt. As a social worker in mental health and substance use disorder (SUD) treatment, I’ve seen firsthand how even well-intentioned professions can uphold oppression. This is my story of unlearning, reclaiming, and creating space for what truly matters.
Pursuing my master’s during the height of the Black Lives Matter movement was a reckoning. I watched as society’s moral compass wavered, as Black lives continued to be devalued, and as the myth of “progress” crumbled. It became clear: Real change requires more than awareness—it demands action. For me, that started with confronting the uncomfortable truth that my own profession, social work, often perpetuates the very systems it seeks to heal.
Decolonization isn’t just theoretical—it’s practical. It’s the way I reject perfectionism and burnout culture, choosing instead to prioritize presence over productivity. It’s the art I create, the tarot cards I pull, and the moments I pause to ask: Who benefits from my exhaustion? Every time I advocate for my clients or hold space for my own healing, I’m practicing resistance. These acts are small, but they’re mine.
I grew up believing my family’s stories didn’t matter. In a culture that equated worth with output, creativity and connection were often sidelined. But our stories are sacred. Reclaiming them has been my way of honoring the past while forging a new path—one where my voice, my art, and my ancestors’ wisdom are not just welcome, but necessary.
Art and tarot have become my tools for reconnection. They remind me that my spirituality and creativity are not indulgences; they’re acts of defiance. Through them, I’ve found joy, clarity, and a way to invite others into their own healing. If you’ve ever felt silenced or unseen, I want you to know: Your expression matters.
An Invitation to Begin Decolonization starts with questions:
- What narratives have you inherited that no longer serve you?
- How can you engage more deeply with yourself, beyond the stories you’ve been fed?
This work isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about starting where you are. For me, that meant painting, writing, and sharing—even when it felt messy. I’d love to hear: What’s one step you’re taking to reclaim your story?
