Eight minutes, 46 seconds, and 365 days.

A year ago, a seemingly endless stream of individuals, corporations, and brands all took 30 seconds to put up a black square on social media. That moment in time served as a poignant, yet ultimately simplistic, way to signify their solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement.

In reality, the event that led to that moment — the untimely and excruciating death of George Floyd under the knee of a police officer — lasted exponentially longer than what it took to post that square.

But the performative gesture — and a quick and surefire way to good press — is far more applicable to where we stand as a country when it comes to doing the work to fight systemic racism, justice and equality.

Perception is reality.

So here we are, a year after the nationwide marches and calls for systemic changes. A year after bullhorns and laying down on Portland bridges. A year after the pledges and commitments. And a year after the proposed shift in focus on equity, from the c-suite to streets.

What, I ask you, has actually changed?

Do Black Lives Matter?

Last summer, we, as a nation, witnessed a wave of immense, powerful, and sustained marches in support of the Black Lives Matter movement. Portland, itself — the whitest city in America and my hometown — often became the national focal point of the broader movement. And we were not alone.

As hundreds of thousands of people marched over bridges, paraded through neighborhoods in large cities, and stood in small groups on the corners of small towns holding up signs in solidarity, there was a general sense that this time it was going to be different and that maybe, just maybe, changes could potentially, actually, happen.

Reality, however, tells a different story.

• Police have killed 229 Black people since the murder of George Floyd.
• In the year since the death of George Floyd, support for the Black Lives Matter movement has fallen. At the same time, support for law enforcement has increased

• There was an uptick in the support for Black owned businesses during the height of the marches, only lasted 2–3 months and then waned.
• Compound that with the fact that Black owned businesses were less likely to get PPP or other capital support
• Corporations committed over $50 billion after social unrest began but as of today have only deployed 0.5% of the funds (TPInsights)

Movements create press, but Black people continue to bare the burden of the realities

As the marches happened, the chants of “No justice? No peace!” echoed throughout the country, and the press coverage mounted, the peace within black communities was still painfully and noticeably absent. And it remains in that same state of unrest, today.

Every single time a Black person is killed there are tweets and scholarly articles about police reform and active discussions about how “things could be better.” Those discussions do not change the fact that I and millions of other Black people are still scared to get pulled over. I and millions of other Black people are still forced to have conversations with our kids explaining “how to not do things that might get them killed,” as they walk out the door. I and millions of other Black people still do not feel safe — let alone welcome — in a country that continues to accept systemic oppression and racism as “just the way things are.”

The trial of Derek Chauvin was on every news station and media outlet. It was inescapable on social media. Time and time again, we relived the brutal and senseless murder of a Black man. But for most of the country, the guilty verdict signaled a return to normalcy. While in Black communities, I and millions of other Black people continued to live with the ongoing fear fostered by hundreds of years of systemic racism and inequality.

Talk of change seemed to end up where it always has — as talk.

If you looked at the pre-pandemic trends, the growth of Black businesses with employees increased 31% between 2002–2017. But the compounding aspects of COVID-19 disproportionately affecting communities of color, the lack of capital and PPP support, and the gradual decrease in support of Black owned businesses in 2020 created a nearly insurmountable sense that things will never actually change.

Locally, Portland may be even further apart as local calls for diversity like the PBA’s “Invisible Knee,” ODOT I-5 widening project — pouring additional salt into the unhealed wound of the demolition of Portland’s historic Black neighborhood — and the Techtown “TechPledge” are either still invisible, stumbling, or stopping altogether.

To put it another way, we continue to live in a community where all white male panels are far from an exception. They remain the norm.

True change cannot be built on performative actions and time bound constraints

I’ve said it once. I’ll say it again. This work will never end.

And it will most definitely not create change if people think that doing the work is putting a sign in your yard, retweeting an article, or putting a black square on your Instagram feed.

Honestly, that’s not even the work. That’s a performance.

Those yard signs still feel removed from the realities of the communities to which they claim to support. Those black squares are not going to be the answer to break down 400 years of oppression and the systemic racism that is woven into the very fiber of our nation.

It’s far past time for this country and its institutions to lean into being uncomfortable. Constantly. Being uncomfortable for a year, or a few meetings after centuries of comfort is not doing the work, it’s not even a first step. It’s just the deep breath before starting the work. There is a sense of cynical optimism around what those next steps will actually lead to.

There is potential in that first step, but only if the right people are taking it. The work is not a burden to be laid upon the Black community to achieve. I and a million other Black people have shouldered that load for far too long, already.

A year ago now I wrote a call to do more and hold organizations accountable to equity and inclusion statements.

Let me repeat — almost a year ago.

That call to action led to a page that outlined clear and concise ways to support the Black community that 498 people from 327 companies signed onto.

I started this effort — I did the work — with the hope that the marching and words I saw and heard a year ago would lead to action and impact. I even took the time to outline how allies can do the work the Black community had been doing for far too long.

So here we are a year later. The marches for justice and equality seem to have been smothered by that of antifa and how to revitalize downtown Portland. Life is starting to get back to normal. We’re starting to get comfortable again.

To be perfectly blunt, it has taken less time to arrest, charge, and convict George Floyd’s murderer than it has for Portland to wake up and get to work.

We need people to build relationships and trust within the Black community.We need people to continue to work on DEI initiatives, but not at the detriment of short term and immediate impact. Equity is sometimes as easy as cutting the check, and companies can support Black owned businesses through their purchasing choices and existing budgets work plans. No big initiative, just a choice.

We need people to just do the work. Without hand holding. Without seeking praise for virtue signaling. Without looking for the PR angle first.

It’s been a year. I did the work for people to follow. So the question is: will you continue to take the steps now that the marching crowds have ended? Or will you see ‘doing the work’ the work only from the performance standpoint?

The choice is yours.