continued from pg. 25
purpose when I talked to the reporter. I bring up color simply because it’s still a factor today. It is still what leads the conversation. I’m aware that people see me as a black woman, and I am even more aware that oftentimes, everyone believes they can do communications. This is why I pursued my APR accreditation. Although I had great work experience— an undergraduate and a master’s degree in communications—I wanted another set of credentials to help separate me from the pack. To separate me from being a practitioner to being someone who could lead strategic conversations and execute comprehensive plans, rather than just cross items off a to-do list. I knew that having those letters behind my name brought more to the table. It wasn’t an easy journey. I squeezed studying in wherever I could and carried flashcards in my purse. When I stood on stage and was pinned in 2018, a realization hit. I was the only Black APR in school communications—number 25, but the first Black one. I wasn’t at all surprised, but I recognized even more in that moment why it was important to have the credentials. Believe it or not, it had been on my vision board since 2010—before I entered school communications and led marketing and communications for Prairie View A&M University. I stumbled upon a communications professor at Florida A&M University who had an APR and a doctoral degree. After reading her bio and her trajectory, I wanted the same magical credentials so no one ever wondered if my word choices were right
28 Summer 2020 | www.TSPRA.org
or if my suggestions were valid. Shine your light. Surprise! The letters behind my name didn’t magically change the world. Just as my working longer hours on more projects didn’t automatically get me the seat at the table. People still edit my writings and offer their suggestions. I’m sure most communicators, regardless of their expertise, still value others’ input. In fact, I know they do. I’m in a few GroupMe chats, several group chats, and yes, even in Twitter Chats. It’s the talk. Although I have been afforded a seat at the table, it was not always that way. I’ve learned about new initiatives through email, and I’ve been called in to “fix” a few things. Many of you have had to craft a media statement because a colleague made a bad choice or didn’t think something all the way through. It comes with the territory. As I sit at the table, as Chief Communications Officer for Aldine ISD, I understand the importance of helping other women, especially other Black women, make it to the table of their choice. Every day I work hard to show up and represent voices who might not ever get to see the table. I shine a light on sensitive subjects and overlooked audiences. I carry out necessary conversations. One of the hardest tasks of my career was helping our superintendent draft her thoughts following the death of George Floyd. Nothing I studied on the test or read in a book prepared me for that. I pushed my supervisor—someone who is so well known, respected and revered—to put some hard words on paper. It took us more than a few days to get the tone down, to make peace with the message and to hit ‘publish’. I toyed with the idea of nixing it, but I knew it had to be done and I knew it had to be done right. People needed to see that there was a plan to address the low test scores and differences in how Black students were treated in our district. The APR behind my name gave me the courage to do it, but it was the reminder that I was placed in Aldine to shine my light on things and bring promise to others that helped me to make it happen.
