Get comfortable with being uncomfortable Luvvie Ajayi Jones
I’m a professional troublemaker.
(Laughter)
As my job is to critique the world,
the shoddy systems and the people
who refuse to do better,
as a writer, as a speaker,
as a shady Nigerian –
(Laughter)
I feel like my purpose is to be this cat.
(Laughter)
I am the person
who is looking at other people,
like, “I need you to fix it.”
That is me.
I want us to leave this world
better than we found it.
And how I choose to effect change
is by speaking up,
by being the first
and by being the domino.
For a line of dominoes to fall,
one has to fall first,
which then leaves the other
choiceless to do the same.
And that domino that falls,
we’re hoping that, OK,
the next person that sees this
is inspired to be a domino.
Being the domino, for me,
looks like speaking up
and doing the things
that are really difficult,
especially when they are needed,
with the hope that others
will follow suit.
And here’s the thing:
I’m the person who says
what you might be thinking
but dared not to say.
A lot of times people think
that we’re fearless,
the people who do this, we’re fearless.
We’re not fearless.
We’re not unafraid of the consequences
or the sacrifices that we have to make
by speaking truth to power.
What happens is, we feel like we have to,
because there are too few
people in the world
willing to be the domino,
too few people willing to take that fall.
We’re not doing it without fear.
Now, let’s talk about fear.
I knew exactly what I wanted
to be when I grew up.
I was like, “I’m going to be a doctor!”
Doctor Luvvie was the dream.
I was Doc McStuffins
before it was a thing.
(Laughter)
And I remember when I went to college,
my freshman year,
I had to take Chemistry 101
for my premed major.
I got the first and last D
of my academic career.
(Laughter)
So I went to my advisor, and I was like,
“OK, let’s drop the premed,
because this doctor thing
is not going to work,
because I don’t even like hospitals.
So …”
(Laughter)
“Let’s just consider that done for.”
And that same semester,
I started blogging.
That was 2003.
So as that one dream was ending,
another was beginning.
And then what was a cute hobby
became my full-time job
when I lost my marketing job in 2010.
But it still took me two more years
to say, “I’m a writer.”
Nine years after I had started writing,
before I said, “I’m a writer,”
because I was afraid of what happens
without 401ks,
without, “How am I going
to keep up my shoe habit?
That’s important to me.”
(Laughter)
So it took me that long to own this thing
that was what my purpose was.
And then I realized,
fear has a very concrete power
of keeping us from doing and saying
the things that are our purpose.
And I was like, “You know what?
I’m not going to let fear rule my life.
I’m not going to let fear
dictate what I do.”
And then all of these
awesome things started happening,
and dominoes started to fall.
So when I realized that,
I was like, “OK, 2015,
I turned 30,
it’s going to be my year
of ‘Do it anyway.’
Anything that scares me,
I’m going to actively pursue it.”
So, I’m a Capricorn.
I like my feel solidly on the ground.
I decided to take
my first-ever solo vacation,
and it was out of the country
to the Dominican Republic.
So on my birthday, what did I do?
I went ziplining through
the forests of Punta Cana.
And for some odd reason,
I had on business casual.
Don’t ask why.
(Laughter)
And I had an incredible time.
Also, I don’t like being
submerged in water.
I like to be, again, on solid ground.
So I went to Mexico
and swam with dolphins underwater.
And then the cool thing
that I did also that year
that was my mountain
was I wrote my book,
“I’m Judging You: The Do-Better Manual,”
And I had to own –
(Applause)
that whole writing thing now, right?
Yes.
But the very anti-me thing
that I did that year
that scared the crap out of me –
I went skydiving.
We’re about to fall out of the plane.
I was like, “I’ve done some stupid
things in life. This is one of them.”
(Laughter)
And then we come falling down to Earth,
and I literally lose my breath
as I see Earth, and I was like,
“I just fell out of a perfectly good
plane on purpose.”
(Laughter)
“What is wrong with me?!”
But then I looked down at the beauty,
and I was like, “This is
the best thing I could have done.
This was an amazing decision.”
And I think about the times
when I have to speak truth.
It feels like I am falling
out of that plane.
It feels like that moment
when I’m at the edge of the plane,
and I’m like, “You shouldn’t do this,”
but then I do it anyway,
because I realize I have to.
Sitting at the edge of that plane
and kind of staying on that plane
is comfort to me.
And I feel like every day
that I’m speaking truth
against institutions and people
who are bigger than me
and just forces that are
more powerful than me,
I feel like I’m falling out of that plane.
But I realize comfort is overrated.
Because being quiet is comfortable.
Keeping things the way
they’ve been is comfortable.
And all comfort has done
is maintain the status quo.
So we’ve got to get comfortable
with being uncomfortable
by speaking these hard truths
when they’re necessary.
And I –
(Applause)
And for me, though, I realize
that I have to speak these truths,
because honesty is so important to me.
My integrity is something I hold dear.
Justice – I don’t think justice
should be an option.
We should always have justice.
Also, I believe in shea butter
as a core value, and –
(Laughter)
and I think the world would be better
if we were more moisturized.
But besides that, with these
as my core values,
I have to speak the truth.
I have no other choice in the matter.
But people like me,
the professional troublemakers,
should not be the only ones who are
committed to being these dominoes
who are always falling out of planes
or being the first one to take this hit.
People are so afraid
of these acute consequences,
not realizing that there are many times
when we walk in rooms
and we are some of the most
powerful people in those rooms –
we might be the second-most powerful,
third-most powerful.
And I firmly believe
that our job in those times
is to disrupt what is happening.
And then if we’re not the most powerful,
if two more of us band together,
it makes us powerful.
It’s like cosigning
the woman in the meeting,
you know, the woman
who can’t seem to get her word out,
or just making sure that other person
who can’t make a point
is being heard.
Our job is to make sure
they have room for that.
Everyone’s well-being
is community business.
If we made that a point,
we’d understand that,
for the times when we need help,
we wouldn’t have to look around so hard
if we made sure
we were somebody else’s help.
And there are times when I feel like
I have taken very public
tumbles and falls,
like the time when I was asked
to speak at a conference,
and they wanted me to pay my way there.
And then I did some research
and found out the white men
who spoke there got compensated
and got their travel paid for.
The white women who spoke there
got their travel paid for.
The black women who spoke there were
expected to actually pay to speak there.
And I was like, “What do I do?”
And I knew that if I spoke up
about this publicly,
I could face financial loss.
But then I also understood
that my silence serves no one.
So I fearfully spoke up about it publicly,
and other women started
coming out to talk about,
“I, too, have faced
this type of pay inequality.”
And it started a conversation
about discriminatory pay practices
that this conference was participating in.
I felt like I was the domino
the time I read a disturbing
memoir by a public figure
and wrote a piece about it.
I knew this person was more powerful
than me and could impact my career,
but I was like, “I’ve got to do this.
I’ve got to sit at the edge
of this plane,” maybe for two hours.
And I did. And I pressed
“Publish,” and I ran away.
(Laughter)
And I came back to a viral post
and people being like, “Oh my God,
I’m so glad somebody finally said this.”
And it started a conversation
about mental health and self-care,
and I was like, “OK. Alright.
This thing that I’m doing,
I guess, alright, it’s doing something.”
And then so many people
have been the domino
when they talk about how
they’ve been assaulted by powerful men.
And it’s made millions of women
join in and say, “Me Too.”
So, a shout-out to Tarana Burke
for igniting that movement.
(Applause)
People and systems count on our silence
to keep us exactly where we are.
Now, being the domino sometimes
comes down to being exactly who you are.
So, I’ve been a shady somebody
since I was three.
(Laughter)
This is me on my third birthday.
But I’ve been this girl all my life,
and I feel like
even that’s been the domino,
because in a world
that wants us to walk around
as representatives of ourselves,
being yourself can be a revolutionary act.
And in a world that wants us to whisper,
I choose to yell.
(Applause)
When it’s time to say these hard things,
I ask myself three things.
One: Did you mean it?
Two: Can you defend it?
Three: Did you say it with love?
If the answer is yes to all three,
I say it and let the chips fall.
That’s important.
That checkpoint with myself
always tells me, “Yes,
you’re supposed to do this.”
Telling the truth –
telling thoughtful truths –
should not be a revolutionary act.
Speaking truths to power
should not be sacrificial, but they are.
But I think if more of us chose
to do this for the greater good,
we’d be in better spaces
than we are right now.
Speaking of the greater good,
I think we commit ourselves
to telling truths to build bridges
to common ground,
and bridges that aren’t based
on truth will collapse.
So it is our job,
it is our obligation, it is our duty
to speak truth to power, to be the domino,
not just when it’s difficult –
especially when it’s difficult.
Thank you.
(Applause)