What happens when your work, your identity, and your sense of belonging become entangled in conflict? Rahn’s story takes us inside the experience of a Black leader navigating a DEI role at a predominantly white Christian university in the midst of extreme national tension around the politics of diversity, equity and inclusion . It’s a story about leadership, courage, and the challenge of remaining present when your convictions and your humanity are being contested.

Mending Divides is a production of Global Immersion.

Hosted by Jer Swigart

Produced by Andrew Brumme

Audio post-production by Great Feeling Studios

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It's a story about leadership, identity, courage, and what it costs to remain present when the work of bridge-building is misunderstood. After his story, Rahn and I will reflect on what his experience reveals about conflict, belonging, and the kind of leadership our divided world so desperately needs.

Here's Rahn.

So I started the job

I run into my president and other folks who are in administrative roles, and what do we do? We do what leaders do in those spaces. You're building relational capital. So I get introduced to a very well-known donor, most specifically in the athletic space. This athletic program is a really big deal. Our football program in particular is a primary driver of lots of things, especially revenue.

And I'm thinking to myself, uh, I, I don't know how to answer your question right now. I have never in my entire life had someone explicitly question the value of my job, of my role, and I don't know how many of my peers in higher education would have a similar experience. I mean, literally finished my PhD with conversations about connecting across difference, but this is a really tangible time for me to decide if I want to connect with him, all while wrestling with the fact that I came to watch a football game and support my family, and I had to shift into job mode.

So we bounced back and forth between topics, cheering for the goodness that was happening on the field, but then also kind of ping-ponging ideas about why the role would be helpful and necessary. And we tried to touch on a little bit of history and sociology and geography and all types of topics

Yeah, he went through my Facebook history and wanted to make sure I knew that The pressure was rising Would this donor continue to give? What kind of voice or influence does he have on the university and the president because of his donor capacity? And if I don't, quote-unquote, "win this argument," what will be the outcome for me, for the work, for the students that we serve, and ultimately for the kingdom?

And it was at that point that the conversation shifted in my mind to recognize, like, this is, it's beyond me, and I needed some help. And so as some internal prayer was happening and I'm trying to figure out, how do I answer this gentleman without being defensive or justifying for my own purposes the value of my role?

And this gentleman knows his Bible really well, and he shares with me, of course, every tribe, tongue, nation, and people gathered and worshiping forever

I wish I could take credit for the phrasing that came next, but I would not have made this up on my own

As the moment would have it, the theme was white out. So the stands were full of fans, especially students, wearing white shirts that said university game day on them. And of course, the stands by phenotypic or melanin measurement, it was very white. This is a secluded university. Attendance does not reflect the diversity and the demographics of the Twin Cities.

If it does have value, it should be trajectory toward helping us reflect the house of God. The conversation ended well, and I was feeling blessed with this opportunity to actually deepen the relationship, which ultimately is what happened with this donor. At the same time, it caused me to wonder, is this what these folks are like?

Is this what I should be expecting from people at that level of leadership or institutional investment from donors? What did I get myself into?

That's both in higher education and in our corporate spaces. So we had these waves of deep engagement and investment, and then this like shock of shifting the other direction of saying disinvest, disengage, don't do the work because it has unjustly impacted some. But frankly, as a Black man in a Christian faith context, there was a sense or an air of, hey, we set our foundation on something that's firm and it's built around our faith and everybody can understand that.

But then you find the data, frankly, is left wanting. We don't look like the Twin Cities. We don't look like the global church. We don't look like Revelation 7:9, and yet we have this commitment to moving closer to it. And I should know better, actually, that donors, it, it would be tough to work with a different generation who had a very different lived experience with regard to difference, even though we share the same good book

There's not a lot of roles in higher ed that were called to defend their work while also doing it. Giving up, throwing in the towel wasn't necessarily the option, but there was a great amount of time spent trying to figure out how do we position and place this work appropriately in these times. Do we change the name of the office?

Do we change the name of positions and titles? Do we close down spaces that are committed to this work, or do we just change those names and titles? Like, what needs to go, what needs to stay, and on what basis? It was tough. It is tough on a daily basis. It points back to that question, what did I get myself into?

But there was a movement from conversation being around the topic to specifically around me. Two donors reached out to our advancement office to ask some questions about the nature of the Office of Inclusive Excellence, which is the office I'm responsible for. They asked questions like, "Should a position like this exist at a university that's centered on Christ?"

I couldn't even get his name right. I called him something like Douglas in the email response rather than Doug. I played a lot of football. There are moments where you have to be definitive in your response so that you can set the tone for the relationship, and the feeling inside of me was to be defensive, in some ways defiant, to attack and defend my position, my purpose, and help him understand that really clearly.

Frankly, it's a belittling, I think, a dehumanization, a devaluing of his capacity, of his understanding. When I think about what was at stake, donor, regardless of what level of giving at that time for me, meant big deal. And of course, it feels like your job would be on the line. And that, I think that's very real.

The gentlemen walk in, and we stand from the table and shake their hands, meeting Doug first. I will never forget the size of his mitts. They were, big, what feels like, as a reminder for me, of farm hands. I actually have no idea what his history is in the fields and whatnot, but that's what it reminded me of.

Bill was met with a handshake as well, a kinda casual point of connection, letting each other know our names and that it was good to see one another, and then we proceeded to our seats

So Doug and Bill each took some time to share about their experience at the university and what led them to ultimately reach out and want to have this conversation given what they've been seeing in the world. And for Doug, these reflections were associated with family. He was thankful for the type of formation that happened in his time, but his larger concern was about the future sustainability and given where he's at in life, that's in some ways what you would expect.

Doug preferred in some ways a colorblind approach to the kingdom. That red, yellow, black, and white, they are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world. In, in his mind, those differences essentially don't exist, and they shouldn't exist. It's a bad thing to raise the question or realization that there are differences in the human experience based on one's race or ethnicity.

To be a Black man in America, specifically in the Twin Cities through this season of unrest based on George Floyd's murder.

He wanted to ensure that his love for people of all races and backgrounds was going to be true for his son. But the learning that his son got at the university helped him see the unjust experiences of people based on a variety of human expressions, specifically race. And so that was troubling for Doug In the leadership cohort experience, we had sessions that helped teach us how to be emotionally regulated and grounded, but not just in theory.

I am beloved, so are they. They are beloved, and so am I

So under the table, right, as these stories are being shared, I am doing this tactile prayer for us. Because in the midst of some of those stories were a question for me of can we connect? Are they beloved? And I don't know, my pompous perspective of like, "Of course I am." But as I'm under the table, I took the time to go from the generic, "I am beloved and so are they.

I could feel what he was holding in tension as he was sharing his story. What came apparent to me was his concern was for the next generation, that they would have a better experience than those who had come before, and specifically around this idea of race and ethnicity. And I couldn't have imagined that would be a point of resonance between the two of us, but I think that was real, that he wanted something better, and so too did I.

And I hadn't anticipated this being the case, but because of his reflections, we had the opportunity to piece some things together, uh, in a really healthy way, I think. I was ready to high-five Bill across the table when maybe initially I probably would've been ready to slap his hand down, right, and make sure I taught him a lesson or something.

Rarely do we actually then reflect on and go, "Okay, what actually did happen there? And what did I learn, and what happened to me along the way?" What was the experience for you of just even thinking through and then telling that story?

I'm committed to kinda achieving goals and keeping things moving, and sometimes that means you don't take the time to pause and reflect and think about what was good, what was bad, what was happening in you, to you, and then even the response to the folks around you, and what value it might have for others.

And so I, I was troubled initially in trying to think through, "Can I tell this story? What value does it have for me? What value might it have for others?" And after, I think, being troubled, I was thankful because I, I needed, especially in this season, the recognition of the tumult and transitions that are happening in our nation, around the world, with the desire and the hopes for peace, but the problems that are so profoundly impacting the world, society, and then our particular lives and our families and our communities.

And so when conflict finds us, because it does every single day, what was helpful for you in that moment to be unrushed and present?

I'm not daunted by your pressure, but it took some poise to frankly take an onslaught for three quarters, right? And then not until the end of the third did I recognize, you know what? If I'm present, there's answers around me. Presence is a big deal. Unrushed, unhurried, being mindful. That's a capacity I think, a- again, that I appreciate being able to cultivate in the midst of this journey with Peace Fellows, right?

How do we be present not only to ourselves, but to the people around us and to the power of the Spirit that can be speaking to us in a variety of ways that we might not be conscious of? This dude is my brother, too Right? This donor with all of these tensions and what I would've wanted to say is like, "We are not family.

Like, no, this is a brother, and how do I meet him as such?

When I'm listening to you tell this story, not only are you bringing, in this case, by the grace of God, a well-ordered life that slowed you down, you were also awake to the whispers of the Spirit, which then calls upon a passage and, like, let's look at the stands, and does that capture the vision? of this kin-dom, this kindred community in the Book of Revelation and inviting a provocative wonder with this person.

What did that do to him in that moment?

I think something shifted in him in that moment. Jer, we went from, like, pretty distanced conversation even physically to being dudes who when we see each other now to this day, it's an embrace, and that would not have happened if it were not for, again, the power, the presence, and I think the pace in which we engaged that conversation.

It was formational from beginning to end. The conversation softened both for him and for me, but under my own power and powerless, like, it was not going to happen. There was something that was occurring to me about the recognition of that moment, of who he is, who we were together, and where we were standing that I think transitioned, it transformed our minds so that we could find love in one another.

Conflict is a crucible that the Spirit inhabits and is transforming us along the way, softening, pivoting. Then there's this moment, though, where there's an invitation to a conversation that's going to be hard, and people with influence, institutional influence, economic influence, want to call you to the table and are questioning the legitimacy of your role.

It looked like a compassionate, convicted you coming to the space. Talk to us about preparing for conflict when we have the luxury to do so.

So the preparation though, the prayer, the processing frankly of if it's true that these are my brothers, what might they be coming to the table thinking about? I wasn't oriented in that way until we took the time to slow down and love them in that way. What might they be thinking about? What might they want to share?

How might they need to be loved in this process? Because love was not my initial response when I got the email questioning the value of my work and my humanity, right? Mm-hmm. My unprepared response would've been to fire back in a very similar way. And it crept in 'cause I couldn't even get his name right the first time I sent an email in response, right?

But I also needed to know what my body, what my mind, my spirit, and my soul needed in that moment because I was tense. I was worried. I was fearful, and I wanted to fight and I wanted to win. And I needed a different type of presence in that moment to show them love, to show them love. And that, that love showed up in that tactile prayer you and Osita helped us understand was so critical in moments where our minds might be feeling like it's the most important thing, our heart and our passion might be feeling like it's the most important thing.

What does it look like to be praying, to be intercessing in the midst of a conflict? It's like a metacognitive, like a step outside of one's own body. That was really important and formative for me. Yeah.

I would say your posture in that space was that of a companion, but there's a lot of impulse inside of you that was like, "I'm gonna conquer these dudes. I'm gonna let them know who they're messing with." When the conqueror wanted to rear its head in you, what did you do? How did you tame the conqueror?

Like I, I wanted to be big. I played football. I loved hitting big dudes because as a little guy, like you let them know you're here. One of them in particular, Doug, is a big man. A big white man, right? Uh, yeah, my impulse was to hit him intellectually, actually. I've been to school, I've studied this stuff, and I know some things, and I can help you, and I'm gonna hit you over the head with what I know.

But man, frankly, that was not going to work. And the other thing for me, Jer, is looking at people, right? To look deeply in his eyes and to feel and sense what it was that he cared about and actually figure out if there's any point of connection between the two of us in our humanity, in our brotherhood.

And the strategy for you began with, "How do I help them as well as possible embrace their own humanity, their own hopes, their own dreams, their own aches, their own fears?" Look at them in the eye. Pray with your fingertips. One last question. Oftentimes we can walk away. We can choose not to engage. I see in you an endurance and a perseverance that is about more than your longevity.

Talk to us about that endurance, and I also wonder how do you wrestle with when to stay and when to walk away?

Those tensions are daily. So as I think about the endurance, both things are needed, I think. The, uh, internal capacity of being resilient can be developed. I think that's critical, and I, I hope that we also are recognizing together, like, man, it is beyond me. It is beyond any individual. There's a gift in the power of community, which was also helping form and transform me, but that cultivation was only effective, I think, because of the centrality of Christ in this process.

Matthew chapter nine actually in particular is compelling to me right now as I think through this tax collector that was invited to leave his desk and follow Jesus to a place unknown, except specifically to his own home with a bunch of other ragtag folks who some of them Pharisees thought they knew their stuff, right?

They came to the party. That's what gives me my endurance. That's who we are following, and that's the gift of, uh, being a peacemaker in, in today's day and age in our context, man.

Be sure you're subscribed to the Mending Divides podcast wherever you listen, and I'll see you in two weeks. The Mending Divides podcast is a production of Global Immersion. Produced by Andrew Brumley with audio post-production by Great Feeling Studios. This season is made possible by generous listeners who support Global Immersion's work.

To learn more or become a monthly supporter, visit globalimmerse.org/donate. Thanks for listening