I attended PS 11 in Brooklyn when I was in the 5th grade. I remember that year because of our class photos. For my picture day, I wore a crème crewneck sweater and green skirt and my hair was done in two pigtail braids. I am smiling with these big round happy eyes. My mother had chosen the two-image format with a black glossy background, so there were two images of me on the page: one centered and one slightly upper left. It was a more expensive option, but my mom wanted to try something slightly more dramatic. The photos arrived at the school and we were each given our envelope. I pulled out my photos with excitement and was thinking how pleased my mom would be to see them when my teacher, Ms. Murray, walked by, stooped over to see them and said, “You look like a two-headed monkey.” She stood up and walked on to look at the photo of the next child. I just sat there, sad, confused and embarrassed. What had I done wrong? Why was I not pretty? The joy in that moment disappeared quicker than a breath. Of course, I went home and told my mother. Of course, she came to school the next day and handled that teacher. But, I never forgot what was said or how I felt. It still hurts.

Needless to say, listening to what Councilwoman Nury Martinez said about her colleague’s Black son brought back those painful memories. Listening to all of the tapes brought deeper reflection and reaction about the perilous state of trust and democracy in Los Angeles, across this country and the globe.

I released a statement on Monday and I hadn’t planned to write about this, but I was interviewed yesterday for an article on the impact of the events in Los Angeles and after reading it, I realized so much was left out of the story — important things. I could wait for another interview, or I could share it with you. I have decided to share.

The tapes in question are the recordings of Los Angeles City Council President Nury Martinez, Councilmembers Gil Cedillo and Kevin de León and Labor Leader Ron Herrera. These tapes, made without their knowledge or consent, were released over this past weekend and have whiplashed across this country.

I am disgusted but I’m not surprised. People say disparaging things about Black people every single day. I still have PTSD from listening to colleagues on the Senate floor use behaviors of incarcerated “Black criminals” as a means to justify killing legislation that would send to voters an amendment removing involuntary servitude from the state’s constitution. It turns out, people say shameful things about everyone else too. Jewish people, Armenians, the LGBTQ community, Indigenous peoples, progressives, White people and former labor leaders were all given some time on these tapes. It was a smorgasbord of the most polarizing kind of political commentary, and it triggered friends and colleagues up and down this state.

This is also not new. Those kinds of discussions are happening everywhere and all the time. They are happening across California and the country. Every day, people are strategizing about how to take, retain and expand their power. The Supreme Court is currently hearing arguments on the legality of gerrymandering Black voters in Alabama. Georgia is in a continued battle to suppress the Black vote as the state, once again, tries to elect Stacy Abrams as Governor. Here in Los Angeles, four leaders discussed how to disenfranchise Black voters, suppress the Black voice and push Black elected officials out of power. It has happened. It just happened. It will happen again. Unless we talk about it.

We have to talk about expanding the pie rather than pitting communities against each other for the crumbs. We have to talk about representation that sees everyone and in which everyone benefits. I know that the immediate response is to force these people to resign. That is important and might even feel victorious, but the harder, more meaningful work is in developing policies and practices and reshaping budgets in ways that fundamentally do not harm or erase Black communities. Ironically, in doing so, everyone benefits. Ultimately, we have to talk about how to share power in order to grow power.

That has borne out in the legacy of district representation by so many African-American elected officials. In California, most African Americans elected do not represent majority African-American districts. The City of San Francisco is 5.7% African-American. The County of Los Angeles is 8% African-American. The 30th Senate District is 23% African-American. None of these are majority African-American and yet they all have African-American female leadership. Trust is earned through representation when your constituency feels and believes that you will not ignore them.

That lost trust, as a result of those tapes, has put Los Angeles in peril.

Trust in government is the most important thing. Sometimes it’s the only thing. Colleagues must trust each other to get legislation and budgets passed. Constituents must trust the officials they elect to lead. When trust is lost, government stops working. When government stops working, democracy is lost. The last four years have crystalized a reality that this shared project called democracy is something we cannot afford to break. What must happen next is the resigning of positions, followed by the repairing and regaining of trust by those four leaders with their colleagues, their constituents and their city. We all have a responsibility to make sure that happens — for the sake of our labor movement, our civic structure and our future.

I believe that part of the work includes who we elect as our next Mayor. Congresswoman Karen Bass is running and she is on the precipice of becoming the first Black female Mayor of Los Angeles. I know her work as a Congresswoman, Speaker of the State Assembly and founder of the non-profit Community Coalition. She is a woman of high integrity and humility and she leads with an intense desire to create shared belonging and ownership. This city is at a crossroads and is in crisis. We are buckling under homelessness, the rising cost of living and a growing fear of one another. Congresswoman Bass does not wave a magic wand and she is not a miracle worker, but she does have extensive muscle memory when it comes to easing tensions and building coalitions. In 1992, when South LA was rocked by the crack epidemic, racial violence and economic neglect, she tapped into the most important asset in the community — the people — in order to galvanize change. I think she can do it again in 2022. In fact, I am banking on her skill-set over that of her opponent, just like I am banking on me and the wave of fresh leadership running in so many other seats across this city and country that want profound, foundational, uplifting change. I want to believe in my government and I want my government to believe in me.

California is not as progressive as we espouse. We are still a state in process. In fact, some have called us the Mississippi of the West. While we have certainly seen the debilitating side of politics over these last days, we will recover. My mother always says that sunlight is the best disinfectant and I believe her. We have an opportunity to lean into what is uncomfortable about race, power, and anti-Blackness and create the kind of future that has space for us all. Let’s not waste this chance.

And no, Ms. Murray, I was not a two-headed monkey. I was a loving, resilient, wonderment-filled Black girl who was and remains beautiful.