24 Time July 19/July 26, 2021
You geT beTTer aT whatever You pracTice.
That’s why I have gotten serious about giving myself the
gifts that only I can give. Walking outdoors. Running to clear
my head. Maintaining so much clarity about my life’s work
that others’ agendas don’t become mine. Being generous
with no. Saying yes only when I actually want to do something.
The value of these gifts cannot be easily measured. They
are priceless. So I usually don’t think of self-care in material
terms. Anyone else can give me tea or perfume, a handbag or
a piece of jewelry. They can’t take a walk for me. And yet in
April, I picked up a custom ring I had purchased for myself.
It wasn’t entirely my idea: in January 2020, I had lunch
with the scholar and poet Therí Pickens. When we fnished, I
accompanied her to pick up a ring she had ordered as a gift to
herself for being promoted to professor at Bates College. The
outing felt not only joyful but also sacred. I would soon put
myself up for promotion review at my own university, and I
vowed that I too would be deliberate in my celebration.
I would not fnd out for another month or so whether the
institution was promoting me to full professor. But as my case
was reviewed by various committees, and administrators de-
manded explanations of minor aspects of my record, it be-
came clear that those empowered to judge my achievements
had not accounted for the racism and sexism that I had faced
while still making signifcant contributions to the university.
I entered my department with two other new assistant pro-
fessors, and from the beginning, we were told that becoming
an associate professor with tenure required publishing a book
with a top-ranked university press. The two people of color
did just that. The white person did not. We all got tenure.
A decade later, I have written a second book and edited
another, and that white colleague still
hasn’t published a frst book. That fact
reflects less on this individual than on
the people who weighted my contribu-
tions equal to his and still believed they
had credibility to judge my record. As
I always say, I’ve been surrounded by
white people my entire life, and that
has not meant being surrounded by
excellence.As A BlAck womAn, I am constantly
reminded that I was never meant to do
anything at the university but clean, so
the standards for promotion were not
set with me in mind. White men created
them, so they are the ones best positioned
to meet them. Nevertheless, I have met
those standards, while white men often
fall short. When they do, criteria magi-
cally change, but no one considers this a
“lowering” of standards. That language
emerges only if the benefciary isn’t a
straight white man.
I’ve spent my career watching white
people use job-performance standards
to judge everyone but themselves and
each other. I therefore don’t put stock in
their opinion of my work. I don’t waste
time and energy believing that if I had
done something differently, I would
have had a better outcome. My refusal
to ignore the injustices that shape my
profession has been my truest form of
self-care.
But freedom from the burden of tak-
ing personal responsibility for inequi-
ties I didn’t create is only part of what I
deserve. I also deserve joy that cannot
be extinguished by the discrimination I
cannot avoid experiencing.
Every time I searched for rings, I told
myself this was about my own affirma-
tion. At some point, I started thinking
about the number 3, for the three areas
of the job—research, teaching and pro-
fessional service—and how I’ve excelled
in all of them. The ring that I now wear
daily, the ring that delights me, contains
three stones and has the appearance of
three bands. And every time I look at it,
I am reminded that I don’t need to wait
for others to tell me I earned it. I did get
the promotion, but this is a gift only I
could give myself.Mitchell is the author of From Slave
Cabins to the White HouseSOCIETY
Refusing to wait for
others to validate me
By Koritha Mitchell
My refusal
to ignore the
injustices
that shape
my profession
has been my
truest form of
self-careTheView E s s ay