Sheletta: Target shot a bullseye through my heart

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I’m watching what’s happening in this country right now and it feels like a Jordan Peele horror movie.

Surely this is not the America that the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. fought so hard for and that Fannie Lou Hamer almost lost her life to preserve.

For some momentary relief, I turned off the news and went shopping.

But before I could grab my purse to head to our hometown retailer, I remembered that Target abandoned its DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) programs so my favorite store is now on the list of places where I will not shop.

I drove to Costco instead. I sampled egg rolls and energy drinks and picked up a sofa I didn’t need and ordered a new garage door to show my appreciation to the club store for its steadfast support of DEI initiatives.

It was almost five years ago that George Floyd was murdered in broad daylight here in Target’s backyard, so close you could bike the 3½ miles between its headquarters and Cup Foods in 20 minutes.

His shocking death was a wakeup call for corporate America. Target was one of the first to vow it was ready to make changes from the top down. It came up with concrete plans to create more equity for its Black “guests,” employees and vendors.

Its supplier-diversity initiatives put brands owned by African Americans like Tabitha Brown and Houston White on Target’s shelves. Thanks to this accelerator program, I didn’t have to drive all the way from Cottage Grove to the 7 Mile beauty supply store on West Broadway in Minneapolis to buy shampoo and conditioner for my daughter’s hair. And I recall the joy and pride I felt finding Black unicorns on a shirt for my nieces.

But Target folded like a cheap card table during an intense game of dominoes at the family cookout.

Within days of the Trump administration taking steps to dismantle DEI programs at the federal level, Target retreated. When the president called such initiatives “illegal,” “immoral” and “discriminatory,” Target apparently agreed.

Target not only shot a bullseye through the heart of Black shoppers, they also betrayed entrepreneurs like me.

I remember it like it was yesterday. Four years ago, my phone rang and it was Target on the other end. They wanted to hire my media and marketing company, ShelettaMakesMeLaugh.com, to promote White’s fall collection for back-to-school shopping. At the same time I was talking to their media buyer, I was also waving my hands, running around the house and speaking in tongues shouting, “Thank you Jesus for answering my prayers.” I felt like I had just won the showcase showdown on “The Price is Right.” Working with Target had been on my vision board since I started my company.

I knew I had to impress Target, otherwise they’d never work with me again. As a Black woman in business, I might only get one at-bat. I view every opportunity as Game 7 of the World Series, in the bottom of ninth, full count. I have to knock the ball out of the park, it has to go in the water, the folks on a nearby pontoon have to jump in the lake, retrieve it and sell it on eBay for $1 million.

My team and I used all our brain matter to create an amazing marketing strategy that would stand out from anything anyone else had done. I enlisted the help of my fashionable and handsome son Andrew. We chronicled his shopping adventures on my podcasts and posted videos all over social media.

This exceeded Target’s expectations (its words, not mine). I worked hard and got paid good money that allowed me to hire two employees and upgrade my equipment.

It wasn’t just the money that Target paid me that had an impact. Working for one of the country’s biggest retailers put a bullseye on my business and put me in high demand. I was tapped to create marketing campaigns for Fortune 500 companies, online therapy centers and state agencies. They knew if Target trusted me, they could too.

Borrowing a phrase from the great American philosopher Jay-Z, all of a sudden, I’m not a businesswoman. I’m a business, woman!

None of this happened without Target’s supplier-diversity programs. Their commitment to work with more businesses like mine gave me the foot in the door that I needed to showcase my talent as a brilliant communications strategist.

That’s why Target called on me the following spring to help promote some of the other Black creatives whose products were on their store shelves.

I said all that to say this: I’m now done with Target.

Actions matter more than promises posted on a company’s website that can be unceremoniously taken down when it’s no longer the flavor of the day.

So, no more filling up those red shopping carts and getting the 5% discount on the Target Circle Card for this Black life that apparently no longer matters to Target.

The only thing I have is my buying power and Target won’t get any of it.

I have such conviction that I joined other civic leaders like Nekima Levy Armstrong in a news conference on Thursday outside Target’s headquarters on Nicollet Mall, asking people to stop shopping there.

But I shouldn’t be leading this charge when we have organizations with offices and big budgets that are tasked with preserving the rights of Black people. Why weren’t the alphabet soup of various legacy organizations, whose mission it is to create opportunity and equality, at the podium instead of me? Where were their outrage and demands that Target do better?

I’m not just talking the talk, I’m walking the walk. I know damn well how hard it is to say no to money.

On Monday, I’ll be hosting my Black Entrepreneurs Day event at the Minnesota State Capitol for the third time. Every year, I invite hundreds of African American business owners to meet with our elected leaders and to advocate for themselves and their businesses.

Black business owners don’t have a lobbying agency to guard our interests; that’s why by the time we learn about programs that could help us, we’re reading about it in the Minnesota Star Tribune and the deadline has passed.

Amazon — yes, that Amazon — offered me $10,000 to sponsor this year’s event and fly in one of their executives to speak.

I refused, even though Amazon’s sponsorship could have put a big dent in the $25,000 it costs me for marketing, staff and security. I also provide free shuttles for Black business owners in Duluth and Rochester as well as lunch for all attendees.

But like Target — and Walmart, McDonalds, Meta, so many others — Amazon has backed away from its DEI promises. So I’ll be digging into my own pocket to pay for the event.

At the rate things are going, I’ll be three-fifths of a person by Christmas and back on the plantation by the new year.

They’re sending planeloads of farmworkers back to Colombia and Guatemala. Who do you think they’ll enlist to pick their fruit in Florida?