It’s Presidents’ Day...we’re supposed to pause everything to honor a list of men who’ve held the Oval Office. Forty-seven so far...not one of them a woman. Meanwhile, the newly re-elected Trump administration wants schools to drop DEI or else lose federal funding. So our children won’t be taught to see themselves in history...they’re supposed to learn only one story and be grateful for it. That’s the plan...and that’s exactly why we need to resist. Not by disappearing, but by appearing...by taking up space.
Let me take you back to a time when I had a podcast studio in Brooklyn. Turns out, that spot was once Shirley Chisholm’s campaign headquarters. She was the first Black woman to run for president of the United States...a real game-changer who famously declared, “I am an American" with her Caribbean accent. She wasn’t limiting herself to one box or label. She was bigger...bolder...living proof that you can hold onto your roots while claiming your right to the entire garden.
These days, culture is being canceled by those who don’t want to face its complexity. They’re banning books...banning conversations about identity...banning the very programs that help our kids become well-rounded humans. DEI bans are everywhere but if Shirley taught us anything, it’s that you don’t shrink when they tell you to sit down. You sit in...right in their faces. You occupy the space they’d rather see empty.
Call it a Digital Sit-In...a new version of that legendary lunch-counter standstill from the Civil Rights era. We may not be physically blocking a doorway, but we’re definitely making it hard for them to ignore us. We flood the timelines, hashtags, and comment sections...we show up in person when we can...we schedule discussions in Zoom rooms and community centers...and we invite everyone to join, especially those who are being told to stay quiet.
Because guess what...they want us invisible. They want us nodding along, politely, while they write the story of America without our chapters. But Shirley Chisholm didn’t ask for permission. She claimed her place at the table...and now it’s on us to claim ours, too. Whether you’re a parent worried about your child’s education or a community member who sees the danger in erasing DEI, this is our moment to say, “Not on my watch.”
We’re living in a time where boycotts and protests are popping up like wildfires...but a sit-in is more than refusing to move. It’s refusing to leave. It’s saying, “You can’t erase me. I’m here...and I won’t budge.” The only way to lose is to stop showing up. So let’s do the opposite. Let’s coordinate, connect, and fill every space that belongs to us...from the school board meetings to the Twitter threads.
When I stand in that empty Brooklyn space, thinking about Shirley’s spirit, I’m reminded that true power comes from presence...from knowing you have a right to be there, even when the world tells you otherwise. In a season where the government is slamming doors, we’re not just prying them open...we’re knocking the walls down. Because the real threat isn’t that we’ll lose a seat...it’s that we won’t realize how many seats we’ve already earned.
So on this Presidents’ Day, while half the nation stops to celebrate 47 men, I’m celebrating one Black woman’s radical vision that started in Brooklyn. I’m celebrating the countless educators and kids whose stories deserve more than a passing reference in a whitewashed textbook. And I’m celebrating the choice we all have...to show up so loud and proud that the system has no choice but to see us.
That’s the spirit of a sit-in...that’s how we make them truly hear what we’ve been saying all along. If you’re with me, find a space...any space...and occupy it until the powers that be recognize that we’re not going anywhere. Shirley did it in 1972...we can do it now. Every day we refuse to disappear is another day we honor those who fought to bring us here. And believe me, we’re only just beginning.
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