We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Norissa Williams. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Norissa below.

Hi Norissa , thanks for joining us today. It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.

In many ways 2020 was a catalyst year. Many of us entered the year the same as we would any other. We’d heard of Coronavirus and how it had begun to wreak havoc in China. Yet, for those of us continents away, it seemed to be an unfortunate problem, over there. We moved about our lives perhaps with increased awareness, but it would not yet shape our existence the way it would come to.

I was a professor at a prestigious university, and had recently been promoted to director of a large, bustling masters program. I earned six-figures and seemed to be fast tracking quicker than I had imagined. I was happy.

Then, just three months into the new year, COVID hit America. New York City, where I lived, was ground-zero.

The year took a turn that would change my personal and professional trajectory, forever.

Like many, I worked from home during this time. Though this was a stress reliever in many ways, the stress of my work had increased. We had to develop new protocols, policies and practices on the fly. We had to quell the anxiety of many nervous students. We had to address the valid concerns of adjuncts who did not want to risk their lives to teach classes face to face. All employed in my small program had workloads that stretched us to the limit. It was more than any new director should have to bear.

Then came the summer of 2020, George Floyd was murdered.

My work and scholarship for the 10 years prior to 2020 centered on race relations and how organizations and society could function more inclusively. I had a pretty developed eye for seeing how race impacted interpersonal, as well as systemic, relations. So, in a staff meeting, when the Chair brought the racial reckoning happening in America to the attention of the faculty and asked if anyone would like to speak, I felt compelled to speak up when no one else would. This was unlike me, because I had learned to swallow my voice in settings like these, where I was one of a few black people in the room.

In that meeting I said things I had not intended to say and my body shook with the pangs of racial trauma still resident within from years of living in America. I told them that I left a more secure position at a Historically Black College or University to come work at this institution. One of the reasons I did this was because I knew I would be among some of the best and most influential psychologists in the country. I had hoped to learn so much just by being around them. Yet, I had been there for five years and many of them wouldn’t even acknowledge me when I said hi to them in the elevator. There were some that I have had to introduce myself to at least five times, because apparently I looked like another person when I changed my hair, even though I had the same face. I told them that as a black person, it was demoralizing to be in their midst and that their actions had made me feel invisible. I had started to question my worth, when I knew the problem was not me, but institutionalized racism.

I had taken a step that I could not walk back from. Many people private messaged and emailed me saying that I was so courageous. They thanked me for being a voice. However, very few, if any, supported me publicly.

As a director I continued to see racial discrepancies. It was glaringly evident that people of color, especially women, had a greater share of the work that uplifted the department. These same women sacrificed their own career development for the advancement of other psychologists, the department and school itself, yet they themselves were not valued.

With the increased stress of a job where I was only superficially valued, I began to rethink all that mattered to me.

Having a PhD, there were but so many places I could do the work I wanted to do. In my academic training I had been geared towards jobs in Academia I had allowed my thought to be so colonized, that I had actually begun to believe I was of very little professional worth outside of it.

I had a great position and was making great money. What was I to do?

As the year progressed and I became physically ill due to the stresses of the job, it became very clear to me that I could not stay. That I must take a leap of faith.

Fortunately, I had been consulting for over a decade doing antiracist work, and inquiries were starting to come in. I began centering myself and spending less 12 hour days at work.

It was just a few short months later than I joined what is now called, the Great Resignation. I left my job. I didn’t know what was next, but I knew I wasn’t going to be complicit in my own oppression.

I bet on myself. I took a risk, and started my own business, Liberation Research & Practice Institute (LRPI). With LRPI, I began partnering with organizations to create contexts where Black, Indigenous and People of Color, could thrive in the workplace.

I’ve been working for myself for the past two and a half years and I could not be happier. Even when I work long hours, I enjoy choosing whether and how I will. I enjoy knowing that I am making impact somewhere and I am doing work that is valued. It, of course, is not without its hardships. We live in a country divided around topics of race, where many are invested in maintaining the status quo for obvious reasons. However, my job is to shine a light in dark places. So, whether the changes I suggest are implemented or not, a seed of change and possibility is planted in the places I leave behind. That makes me happy.

Since then I have only continued to take risks; one after the other. Most recently I launched my very first app, Living Liberated, where I provide resources for people who want to embody liberation from personal and systemic harms.

Leaving my job in 2021 is a risk I would take again and again and again, if it promised the life I currently live.

Norissa , before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I am an Applied Developmental Psychologist who is also a masters level social worker. My community service work started when I was 14 years old, working for a community center in the town I grew up in. My undergraduate and masters degrees were built on the foundation of wanting to help others and impact change in disenfranchised communities.

Liberation is my jam, so all my work centers around antiracism and addressing intrapersonal, interpersonal, institutional and systemic oppression. I partner with individuals and organizations using decolonized approaches to move towards our collective liberation. My approach is unique in that it is not just topical. It does not ask people to simply change their thoughts or behaviors. I consider liberation from a psychospiritual perspective and challenge the body, mind and spirit to heal from systemic harms and embody new ways of being.

I am most proud of the ways in which I embody liberation in my personal life and how I have been able to raise liberated children. I love working with people who are serious about multilevel healing and wanting to see a new way forward in institutions and society.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

As a black woman I had to unlearn self-silencing. As a child I had learned to be seen and not heard–a value useful when you come from an oppressed, formerly enslaved group. However, seeking to be authentic and to have integrity in all my interactions, I entered the workforce with a boldness, counter to how I was trained. I thought it was sure to ensure my success.

However, though this would be true if I were a white male, this was not true for a 20 something year old black woman. I was quickly, implicitly and explicitly told to stay in my place.

As a young woman coordinating a program, I had a job where I met with several executive directors of local non-profits. Though social work was a female dominated field, with many people of color, the executives were all white men. In one meeting I remember putting forth an idea, which I thought was very good. However, I was met with a lot of doubt and people expressing what they thought was inadequate about my proposal. Not five minutes later, a man said he had a great idea that had just occurred to him. He shared his idea. I sat in disbelief as I watched everyone jump on his bandwagon saying how wonderful and idea it had been.

I had literally just said the same thing and been dismissed. I said, “I agree. It’s a great idea, but I just said that.” They were all taken aback. They looked at me like I was a wild animal, needing to be tamed. I felt unsupported, as no one, not even my supervisor, jumped in to support me. After the meeting he (a white male), pulled me aside and asked me what I was doing in there? I wanted to ask him what HE was doing in there.

After the meeting, my direct supervisor (a white male), pulled me aside and asked me what I was doing in there? I wanted to ask him, what HE was doing in there.

I had internalized that I had indeed done something wrong and to avoid situations like that, that I should just say nothing–after all, it had been how I was raised as a black woman in a white world.

It took years for me to realize how that situation impacted me and to unlearn the self-silencing that had become a way of life for me. I practiced speaking up and made conscious efforts to activate my voice as part of my liberation journey.

If you could go back in time, do you think you would have chosen a different profession or specialty?

I would choose this profession again and again and again. Social work and psychology are who I am, not what I do. I am intentional in all things and began this journey as a 14 year old. I started with introspection about what I wanted my life to be, and aligned my actions (academic choices), with this. I am so glad to have had that foresight, as young as I did. I have never thought to turn back since.

Contact Info:

• Website: Livingliberated.passion.io and Liberationrpi.com
• Instagram: Dr.NorissaWilliams
• Facebook: Dr. Norissa Williams
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/norissa-williams-97401868/
• Twitter: n/a
• Youtube: https://www.radicalremembering.com
• Yelp: n/a