On “Awe.” Two.

At the moment when our work lives seemed to be going off a cliff, we drove down to the Valley, Napa Valley. It would be Sadiyah’s first time to this famed wine destination. Was this the plan all along?

I. If it was the plan, we definitely would have known. There would have been meetings, a shared notes document, colored tabs on a spreadsheet, deadlines and checklists. Because, as we discovered early on in our working relationship, that’s how we roll. But this day of red wine, oysters, and charcuterie felt like serendipitous indulgence and fate.

To our initial meeting almost two years earlier, Sadiyah arrived all strategic and glamorous: big hair shown tremendous care, gold bejeweled fingers, and a vision so clear for the nebulous task that she practically had a GPS location for the deliverables. Sadiyah was already a couple years in at the organization, and understood the unspoken definitions of success.  This was all extremely helpful to me, a newbie team member in a newly created role and seeking direction from anyone and everyone.  I felt more than sufficiently prepared to succeed.

We quickly developed a rapport as we crafted our routine: Friday evenings were the intersection of productivity and availability, as we worked across time zones and laptop screens. This was wine o’clock for me; I would pour a glass or red or white, and swoon over a Brown Estate Instagram post. But before getting to work, we connected over our shared love for books, and organizers, and traded relationship advice. 

Accountability was as much a cornerstone of the relationship as the mutual passions, because while we “valued people over results,” winning was the stated mandate. In the days leading up to our Friday check in, I would return to my assigned action items: “RH to email so-and-so, check!” “RH to follow up on thus-and-such, check!” If not done, Sadiyah would step in with, “How can we move this forward? What’s the roadblock here?

Our end of year numbers testified to our commitment and persistence. The combination of confidence and accolades fueled our excitement for a repeat, and began detailed planning in in a fresh shared document. 

II.“Nothing is constant but change,” the sage Octavia Butler reminds us. And if the storied author had ever worked at a 501(c)3, she might have added, “especially at a non-profit organization.”

We literally entered a new landscape and struggled to stand firm. Our once precise accountability rhythms began to miss beats. The routine Friday meetings were moved to Tuesday morning, then Thursday afternoon, then whenever we could fit them in. In my ambition to grow professionally and support the organization during a pinch, I raised my hand to lead a complex project with a separate team. I was unprepared for how, like the fabled whale, it would swallow me whole. To Sadiyah’s question, “what is most helpful to you?” I did not have an answer. About our shared action items, I was unsure. 

As a whole, our industry –the education industry – faced challenging times as the massive COVID-related funding pipeline slowed.  The impersonal senior team meetings accompanied by carefully worded slides and leaving “time for questions”, clarified that the outside forces were approaching our organization. Gossip abounded, and the feeling of “every person for themselves” sat patiently among us.  

Despite the fading shimmer of a fantastic team win, Sadiyah and I rooted for each other’s undefined, individual triumphs. What would it look like on the other side? 

III. The other side would look like meeting in mid-August under an Oakland sky as clear as our agenda. Not across laptop screens or time zones, but the console of a rented white Acadia that I steered south on I-80 toward Napa Valley. For me, the transition from the organization was fresh. For Sadiyah, imminent, though the exact date uncertain. 

With each mile and shared word, we peeled at the rind of our attachment to previous versions of our professional selves, experienced career women who were committed to mission-driven work for the people. Each confession of disappointment in kinfolk and the “petty boo” – Sadiyah has a hilarious way of making elite phrases accessible –  a pith tenderly and precisely removed from our present reality. 

By the time we arrived to the Brown Estate tasting room, we were primed for the day’s indulgences: a flight at 10:30a, followed by whatever we determined. 

“Look at us, Sadiyah,” I said, sinking into the plush, greyish-blue velvet couch. 

A sommelier with ribbons of ink along her right forearm described the variety of red wines, of which I was familiar, but oop! Sadiyah wasn’t really a fan but still a good sport. We tasted at least five varieties, inhaling the aromas of berries, and chocolate. The head sommelier, Chris, stopped by our area to chat, expressing appreciation for our visit, and that he might be in the DC area in a couple months. 

“Oh, talk to Rhonda!,” Sadiyah said. “She’s got a podcast and all these other things.” My shyness lasted a moment, and I leaned into the possibility of this vision. 

We approached the elevator, and stood beneath the signboard that I’d seen only from my phone, from my home office in stolen moments between meetings. Today’s sign read “Forward Ever.” 

The rough-hewn side of my heart would say full time employment implicitly promises to provide a vehicle to live your life, and perhaps live a fulfilled life. Maybe you’ll book a table for two at Kwame Onwuachi’s new restaurant that everyone is raving about. Get the pedicure at your first choice salon – not the emergency salon – so you can wear your open-toed shoes on that night out. The threat of reorganization and downsizing essentially whispered, “F*ck your dreams. Hope you followed the financial advice to deposit consistently into your emergency fund.”

But in this moment, with the promise distinctly forfeited, “Forward Ever” above my head, and in the company of a colleague-turned-friend, that fulfilled life still seemed possible, if not more so. I was in awe at the contraction of emotions I felt. The elevator doors opened, and we stepped into the future, uncertain, and by our own design.