Storms May Bend Your Branches, But They Cannot Break Your Roots
There’s an old truth whispered in nature: the oak tree doesn’t fear the storm. It has lived through hundreds. It bends. It groans. It even loses branches. But it does not fall. Because its strength is not in what you can see. Its power lives underground, in roots that run deep and hold fast.
For equity leaders in this moment watching programs slashed, teams dissolved, and hard-won progress threatened, this message isn’t just poetic metaphor. It’s a reminder. Of who you are. Of what cannot be taken.
The Cut May Come, But It Doesn’t Define You
Let’s name what’s happening. Across the country, initiatives centered on equity are facing cuts. Not just budget lines—but lifelines to communities, students, families, and futures. Leaders like you—who’ve fought for inclusive policies, translated complex truths into action, and stayed steady when others looked away—are now being asked to explain your worth, again.
And yet, you remain.
Not because it’s easy. But because your work has always been rooted in something bigger than a job title or a grant cycle. It’s rooted in your values. In your community. In your deep belief that every person deserves dignity, access, and opportunity.
What’s Beneath the Surface: Your Roots
Think of your roots. The values that made you choose this path in the first place. Maybe it was a grandmother who navigated systems that never saw her. Maybe it was the look in a student's eyes when they realized someone was fighting for their future. Maybe it was the knowledge that silence wasn’t an option—not for you.
Those are your roots. Integrity. Justice. Courage. Accountability. Love.
These roots don’t change when programs do. They don’t weaken because someone in a higher office doesn't yet understand the depth of your work. If anything, they grow stronger. Because roots feed on what’s real. And nothing is more real than your clarity of purpose.
The Storms Are Loud, but Temporary
Storms are made to test you. They thrash around loudly. They break what’s loose. They challenge the height of what you’ve built. But they never last forever.
Right now, it may feel like the winds are strong enough to knock you over. Funding may be gone. The political climate may be hostile. People who once sat at the table with you may now be silent. It may feel like everything is being stripped back to bare branches.
But this is not the end of the story. It’s a hard season. And like the oak, you’ve been built to endure.
Remember What You’ve Already Survived
This isn’t your first storm.
You’ve stood in rooms where people denied inequity with a smile. You’ve worked with too little for too many. You’ve translated trauma into policy. You’ve built coalitions out of fractured communities. You’ve found light in impossible places.
Your track record? It’s already proof that what’s planted deep cannot be uprooted easily.
This Moment is Asking You to Return to the Root
When everything around you is shaking, it’s tempting to scramble. To rebrand, repackage, retreat. But this moment might not be about doing more. It might be about going deeper.
Ask yourself:
- What values do I refuse to compromise on?
- Who is this work truly for?
- What legacy am I committed to, no matter who funds it?
- What will still be true when the storm passes?
These questions take you back to your root system. They center your identity. And in doing so, they give you clarity in chaos.
You Are Still Standing And That’s the Point
To every equity leader who feels worn down: you are still standing. Not untouched. Not unshaken. But deeply rooted.
Programs may come and go. Titles may shift. Budgets may shrink. But your commitment to equity, to truth, to people, that does not disappear. That cannot be erased.
You are a mighty oak. And yes, the storm may bend your branches. But it will never break your roots.
And when the sky clears, as it always does, it will be your deep roots that allow you to grow taller than before.
So hold steady. You are exactly what this moment needs. Not because you’re invincible, but because you’re grounded.
And grounded things grow, even in the storm.