I'm Still Here summary

Outside of school, Austin got to know several Black communities. When Austin was ten, her newly divorced mother moved to a predominantly-Black Cleveland neighborhood. Visiting her there was a culture shock, and the Cleveland children teased Austin for “talking white.” Eventually, she made friends and came to embrace the Black culture she discovered.

She found another new community when her father took her to a warmly welcoming Black church. Austin immediately felt at home there.

When Austin started work, it was for Christian ministries that were mainly white. These organizations often claimed to be diverse and inclusive. The reality was quite different. Even when people were trying to be kind, work was still a draining experience.

Just imagine: you turn up to the lobby in the morning, and several people ask you if you’re looking for the outreach center rather than your own office. Then you get to your office, where perhaps a white colleague compliments your hair – and suddenly reaches out to touch it. When you pull back, she looks offended and confused.

Part of Austin’s work is encouraging white people to think about racial issues. And she’s been successful. In fact, she’s sometimes been too successful.

One year on MLK Day, Austin and a white college friend, Jenny, presented their own stories to a church congregation – including an account of that coach trip to the lynching museum. They were hoping their personal experiences would get through to the congregation – and they did.

In a diversity training workshop that Austin was part of, the group had been talking about slavery. One woman was sobbing and sobbing. She couldn’t believe what she’d learned.

“I had no idea,” she cried.

Austin’s white friends often look amused when, just after she meets up with them, she calls her husband. It probably seems cute to them – like they’re inseparable. It doesn’t seem very feminist.

But Austin has a good reason for making the call. It’s their way of confirming to each other that they’re safe. Because that’s not something they can take for granted.

In his powerful memoir Between the World and Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote powerfully about something that tends to get overlooked – just how long slavery lasted.

An African-American born around 1750 would have had great-grandparents who were enslaved – and their own great-grandchildren might have been enslaved, too. What hope did they have of ending slavery in their own lifetime? None at all. Yet they still persevered, and resisted.