How to Sustain Radical Possibility in Schools Without Sacrificing Your Well-Being

Overview

Creating truly equitable schools requires more than policy changes—it demands a radical reimagining of what education can be. But as many educators, especially Black women in leadership, have discovered, this work often comes at a personal cost. Drawing from my experience as a Voices of Change fellow and director of diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging (DEI) at a preK-8 Catholic Montessori school, I’ve learned that building radical possibility can be both transformative and draining. This guide offers a structured approach to designing and sustaining DEI initiatives in schools while protecting your mental health, based on the lessons I’ve learned—sometimes the hard way.

Prerequisites

Understanding the Landscape

Before diving into this work, you need a foundational grasp of systemic racism in education. This includes:

• Knowledge of how school policies have historically marginalized Black, Indigenous, and other students of color.
• Familiarity with concepts like freedom-dreaming, radical joy, and emancipatory pedagogy.
• Awareness of the emotional toll that DEI work often exacts, especially on women of color.

Personal Readiness

You’ll need:

• A commitment to equity that goes beyond performative gestures.
• A support network—other educators, mentors, or a therapist who understand the stakes.
• The ability to set boundaries and recognize early signs of burnout.

Institutional Buy-In

Ideally, your school leadership is already aligned with DEI goals. If not, start by building a coalition of allies among staff, parents, and community members.

Step-by-Step Instructions

Step 1: Name the System You’re Fighting

Before you can transform a system, you must acknowledge its real effects. As I did when I reflected on my family’s educational history—my father leaving school, my mother pushed out, my grandparents’ limited options—identify the specific barriers your students face. Action items:

• Conduct a racial autobiography exercise with your team to surface personal connections to education inequity.
• Map out how discriminatory policies (e.g., hair texture bans, culturally irrelevant curricula) have impacted Black students in your school.
• Document these findings to inform your strategy.

Step 2: Build a Community of Co-Conspirators

You cannot do this alone. I found strength in coaching and being coached by other Black women educators who shared the same exhaustion and hope. Action items:

• Form a DEI committee that includes teachers, administrators, and parents from marginalized groups.
• Schedule regular check-ins focused on emotional support, not just task completion.
• Create a private online space (e.g., Signal group, Slack channel) for sharing resources and venting.

Step 3: Develop a Strategic Plan with Clear, Measurable Goals

My fourth essay outlined a DEI strategic plan for a Catholic Montessori school. The key is specificity: vague intentions lead to burnout. Action items:

• Set 3–5 concrete goals for the year (e.g., “Revise all reading lists to include at least 30% Black authors by next semester”).
• Define metrics: surveys, discipline data, curriculum audits.
• Create a timeline with milestones—and include rest periods (see Step 5).

Step 4: Implement with Radical Joy as a Pillar

Too often, DEI work focuses only on trauma and oppression. Incorporate joy as a form of resistance. In my second essay, I emphasized “emancipatory power of radical Black joy.” Here’s how:

• Host celebrations of Black culture that are not tied to a crisis (e.g., a school-wide African dance workshop, a literature festival highlighting Black poets).
• Ensure classroom libraries feature stories of Black joy, not just struggle.
• Model joy yourself: laugh with students, share your own passions.

Step 5: Set Unbreakable Boundaries for Self-Care

This is the part I neglected—and nearly broke me. I went three years without a full week off. Non-negotiables:

• Schedule one full week off every quarter, no exceptions—disconnect completely.
• Use a stop doing list: identify tasks that drain you and delegate or drop them.
• Establish a daily 30-minute buffer between work and personal time (e.g., walk, meditation, journaling).

Step 6: Celebrate Small Wins Publicly and Privately

Institutional change is slow. To sustain motivation, recognize progress.

• Keep a “wins journal” for yourself.
• Share successes with your community via email or meetings.
• Reward yourself—take a treat after reaching a milestone.

Step 7: Pivot When the System Resists

Not every initiative will succeed. When discriminatory policies resurface or pushback comes, revisit your strategy without personalizing the failure. I learned to lean on my essays—e.g., the one on discriminatory hair policies—to remind myself why the fight matters.

• Hold a quarterly retrospective with your committee: What worked? What drained us?
• Adjust goals based on new data, not guilt.
• Accept that radical possibility often requires incremental steps.

Common Mistakes

Ignoring Burnout Until It’s Too Late

As I woke up one day unable to even want to get out of bed, I realized I had normalized exhaustion. Danger signs: chronic low energy, cynicism, physical illness, feeling “misaligned.” Don’t wait until you’re in crisis.

Trying to Be the Lone Warrior

I tried to do everything—coach others, write essays, lead DEI—while carrying personal grief. I should have delegated more. Build a team so you don’t collapse.

Focusing Only on Pain Points

My earlier essays covered grief, but I learned joy is equally radical. Balance trauma-informed work with celebration.

Perfectionism

You can’t fix centuries of oppression in a school year. I fell into the trap of expecting immediate transformation. Progress, not perfection.

Neglecting Your Own History

If you don’t reflect on why you’re doing this (e.g., your parents’ schooling experiences, Nas’ father’s advice: “Quit school if you want to save your own life”), you lose emotional fuel. Stay connected to your roots.

Summary

Sustaining radical possibility in schools means balancing fierce advocacy with fierce self-preservation. By naming oppressive systems, building community, setting clear goals, prioritizing joy, and enforcing rest, you can create lasting change without breaking yourself—as I nearly did. The work is long, but your health is non-negotiable.