Opinion editor’s note: Strib Voices publishes a mix of guest commentaries online and in print each day. To contribute, click here.
•••
There are few times when government, business, academia and philanthropy all work together to achieve a common goal. The aftermath of George Floyd’s murder was one of those times. The tragedy brought about a collaboration and urgency we rarely see. Dozens of companies, including General Mills, 3M and Best Buy, came together to create the Minnesota Business Coalition for Racial Equity (MBCRE). The coalition sought to build a more equitable, inclusive and prosperous state, particularly for Black Minnesotans. However, membership in MBCRE, which included 70 companies in its early days when the energy to take concrete steps for racial equity seemed unstoppable, has now plummeted to 26 companies.
Almost five years since that watershed moment, we find ourselves grappling with an uncomfortable truth: the momentum for racial justice is waning, replaced by apathy and a growing indifference to the difficult, transformative work ahead.
This loss of resolve isn’t new. History echoes with unfinished business. In April 1993, following riots in response to the acquittal of four Los Angeles police officers involved in the beating of Black motorist Rodney King, the Star Tribune ran an article highlighting pledges to take racial justice seriously. But those efforts, too, dissipated under the weight of apathy. The resolve to act gave way to hesitation, fumbling and ultimately inaction once the spotlight faded.
The parallels between that moment and today are clear. Leaders who championed racial equity a few years ago are now growing quieter while pushback, fear and opposition grow louder. We are witnessing a troubling rise in risk aversion as legal threats and public backlash against racial justice work push organizations and individuals to retreat. It’s become more difficult for Black-centered organizations to fundraise. Some companies have not realized their goals for promoting racially diverse talent and still struggle to deliver on commitments to spend with Black suppliers. And for some, the fire that burned bright in 2020 has been doused by a desire for a return to normality without having learned the important lesson that business-as-usual in housing, education, policing and employment is what landed us here.
The forces of injustice lurk like a hidden predator, waiting for moments of vulnerability when our collective resolve weakens. If we are not careful, we risk falling into the same cycle: leaping one step ahead, only to later discover that our failure to maintain momentum has left us further behind.
We’ve met many incredible leaders over the past few years — people doing soul-stirring work that deserves to be celebrated, supported and sustained. But both of us have also observed stalling, pushback and plain opposition. Too often, Black leaders, especially women, are placed in highly visible, ambiguous roles — positions that carry immense responsibility but little structural support. When the going gets tough, many are left to fend for themselves, struggling under the weight of unrealistic expectations and fighting misogynoir — the intersection of racism and sexism faced by Black women. At times, it seems the very structure of white supremacy purposely keeps us all walking in circles, creating confusion, infighting and burnout among those fighting for equity, leaving us spinning in place.