The Trauma-Informed Lawyer

Reflections from Justice as Trauma 2025: If Not You, Then Who?

Episode Summary

In this powerful episode of The Trauma-Informed Lawyer podcast, I share a heartfelt compilation of feedback and testimonials from attendees of the Justice as Trauma Conference. Their reflections capture the profound impact of the conversations, teachings, and community built during our time together. I also offer listeners the keynote I delivered at the conference — a call to action on healing, humility, and humanity in our work. Through my keynote, I challenge legal professionals, organizational leaders, and advocates to reflect deeply on two critical questions: ➡️ If not you, then who? ➡️ If not now, when? This episode is an invitation to pause, reflect, and step into the transformative work that a relational approach to justice, connection and healing requires. *The keynote begins at 21:40*

Episode Notes

In this episode, I bring listeners back to the Justice as Trauma Conference held last week in Vancouver, by sharing a compilation of feedback and testimonials from attendees. Their reflections highlight the deep impact of the conference and the importance of integrating trauma-informed and culturally responsive practices into our work. I also share my keynote, which explored healing, humility, and humanity in the legal profession. I invite listeners to pause and reflect on these essential questions:

➡️ If not you, then who?
➡️ If not now, when?

This keynote which begins at 21:40 serves as both a reflection and a challenge to step into the work of creating safer, more compassionate spaces in law, leadership, and advocacy. 

Some Key Takeaways:

Healing Through Justice: Integrating trauma-informed practices into systems and relationships.

Humility as Strength: Embracing lifelong learning and acknowledging our limits.

Humanity in Leadership: Creating authentic, compassionate spaces where safety and trust can thrive.

🔗 Explore More:

Discover upcoming trainings at www.myrnamccallum.co

Subscribe to The Trauma-Informed Lawyer podcast for future episodes.

Connect with me on LinkedIn, IG and TikTok to continue the conversation.

 

Episode Transcription

Reflections from Justice as Trauma 2025: If Not You, Then Who?

Myrna McCallum

I'm Myrna McCallum Métis Cree lawyer and passionate promoter of Trauma Informed Lawyering. Welcome back to the Trauma Informed Lawyer Podcast. As you know, I believe that law schools and bar courses are missing a critical competency requirement in their curriculum. Trauma Informed Lawyering. Becoming a Trauma Informed Lawyer will, among other things, challenge you to critically reflect on your personal behaviors, beliefs and biases, call on you to positively transform the way you approach advocacy, guide your practice to avoid doing further harm to others, and ask that you commit to remaining open to learn new and old knowledge you didn't know you needed before beginning your career. Your education starts right here, right now.

At my recent Justice As Trauma conference, we brought my podcast equipment down to the venue and offered folks an opportunity to share some of their takeaways from their experience at the conference. And we've gathered a collection of those testimonials, if you will. We're sharing them here with you. Following the testimonials, I am sharing my keynote that I delivered at our dinner on day two. I didn't know what I was going to talk about, but apparently the theme is kind of along the lines of if not you, who? And if not now, when? I hope you enjoy this episode.

Charmaine Parenteau

So my name is Charmaine Parenteau and I actually came to this conference as well. So this is my second time experiencing this. I just wanted to share how I was actually asked to speak this year. I also spoke last year too, but this year was quite different for me. And one of the things that I take away from here is that I have never been in all of my life to a place, a conference with so many like minded people who are just willing to look at themselves and look at the work that they do and how they can implement changes. This one was really special for me because I felt as an indigenous person for the first time our voices were heard and Myrna made that happen. And Myrna is very special for that because it's just so inspiring to see women elevating women. And Myrna's always done that and I got to see it just embodied within this conference that made a lot of people feel safe. Not just indigenous people, but non indigenous people that participated in it as well. I had tons of comments about that as I was walking about and I think it's important to know just like how much humility that takes for someone to actually do that. And so I'm just really grateful for that and I hope to bring that forward in my own life as a person, as a professional too, because I'm absolutely inspired by Myrna, and I always have been. From the minute I listened to her very first podcast, I DMed her and wasn't supposed to, but I did. And she changed my life. And I know I tell her that, but she actually doesn't actually believe me. She kind of laughs it off, you know, but it's actually really true. And she's standing right here, so I'm not making eye contact with her because I haven't actually told her all these things. But yeah, she's just somebody very special, and she's connected so many people, and I believe the Creator works through her. She is a vessel for a creator, and it is so obvious to me, and I'm just so grateful.

Jen Demers

Hi, my name is Jen Demers. This is my second year at the Justice as Trauma conference. And God, where to begin? Experience completely different, but yet just as impactful. So deep and so profound and soul shaking, in the most positive, inspiring way. And that's all Myrna and her team. Myrna, I remember the first time I heard your voice on your podcast and how much you shook my soul. I admire you on a level I don't even think I can put into words. To be part of this amazing movement where you just create the most safest space for everyone to come just as they are. Just as they are, and that's good enough. And to leave feeling even more whole and just more complete. And I don't know, I feel every time I'm in these spaces and I'm around you, a part of my soul heals. And I'm just so grateful for you for sharing and for being so vulnerable and for allowing everyone to be vulnerable. You are the biggest inspiration. I will follow you anywhere. So move out of the way and let her lead. Just let her lead the way. I love you so much.

Dolly Abla

Hey. My name is Dolly Abla. I work for Public Service Alliance of Canada as a human rights officer, Indigenous advisor. My community is the North Sequetem, and I have been coming to the conference for two years now. And I also participated in the online Trauma Is Justice TIJ when we were all in Covid. I became aware of Myrna's work shortly before that and really liked the work that she was doing. I worked as a psychiatric nurse for many years before I came to the union. And her words really spoke to me, both through my own experience as an Indigenous woman, and also in my work that I had started to do within the union movement in terms of indigenous workers rights and how to best represent folks that were coming to me for help in representation. How to not further do no harm, so to speak, as Myrna says. And I got really excited about how to weave that concept and the concepts that she brings to each one of her conferences in terms of how can we make change, how can we do better, and how can we push forward in a good way so that folks, at the end of the day, can receive the justice that they deserve in terms of living whole lives.

I recommend the conference to anyone. If you can get here, get here, it's well worth it. And I think the biggest takeaway — I don't know if I've had the biggest takeaway yet, it's not the end of the conference — there's been so many worthwhile things. Every single thing has a nugget from the presentations. The balance of the presenters and the speakers, the keynote speakers, is really, really well done. I like the fact that there's some downtime. I'm signed up, but I haven't had the Polynesian massage yet. I did not get into one of the events that I wanted to do. But that's okay. There's always another conference coming up and I'm looking forward to that. And I think it's a good way for me to inform my work and the things that I build for my organization to make change internally within the union movement and how we move and work with indigenous people within the union.

Alana Carlson

I'm Alana Carlson, a lawyer and consultant from Saskatoon. And what I really took away from this conference is just how important it is to have a safe space to be in community with others who understand your work. For a lot of us who work by ourselves or work in very specific areas, we often don't know that we're lonely or don't know that we're isolated. So being able to come here and immediately walk into a room with hundreds of people and feel safe talking to anyone and knowing that you're immediately going to have a shorthand and a familiarity with each other — I've been able to make good friendships and business relationships, and it's really going to help with my work and the change that I want to make.

Katie Carson

My name is Katie Carson, and I think the biggest thing that I've taken away from being at this conference was the sense of community. I'm in a small group of people in my organization that does this work, and it can be really isolating. And so getting to be in a space where everybody is fired up about making big impacts in this space has been really inspiring and is bringing me a lot of energy to go back to my work and continue to do good work.

Madeline Smith

My name is Madeline Smith. I am from Edmonton, Alberta. I am a settler, non indigenous, Francophone. I have worked on the front lines as a registered social worker. At this stage in my career, I am now a program manager, a project manager — I design programs. And that's what's really interesting for me about this conference. The caliber of the speakers has been incredible. They have risen through their systems — powerful systems of justice, of education, of healthcare, of law enforcement. They have spoken to power. But I heard something from them about how there comes a place in your time in the systems when you can abide by the power or you make change to the power. And that's what's been so exciting to me about this conference, is that I am in that place where I make change to the power. And so I'm leaving here with a lot of strategies. I'm affirmed that I don't fit, although I am a professional with many credentials, and that the work I'm doing is the nibbles that will make the change. And so I'm just so appreciative of having the opportunity to be here and to hear from such exciting, interesting people who are on the cusp of all of this. And a very special thank you to Myrna. When you put your own money, when you put your own skin into something, that says a lot.

Benjamin Roebuck

I am Benjamin Roebuck. I'm Canada's Federal Ombudsperson for Victims of Crime. And I am blown away. I am rarely in spaces where someone's able to gather so many different and diverse perspectives on trauma and create so much safety to reflect and process and do personal work at the same time as learning professionally. I think for legal professionals in this space, there's so much value in being asked different questions and hearing deeply from the lived experiences of people who've passed through the legal system and how they've been affected, and imagining together what we could do to make things better and to make things safer and really pursue justice. I've really valued hearing from so many indigenous women, hearing their insight and wisdom and way of thinking, connection to the land, and the work they've done on healing. And I appreciate how that's driving my own reflection on the value of connection to the land around me. I've been in awe of the mountains that we can see from the conference venue. And really I think that's what this conference feels like — it's like a mountain of people who've come together to make things better. I'm so grateful for Myrna's leadership and her humility and willingness to open her life to complete strangers like me, and to help us learn and take away treasure and wisdom from everything that she's walked through in life and her lessons and reflections. There really aren't many spaces I've been in that offer this value and deep learning. So I'd highly recommend that anyone who has the opportunity to attend training with Myrna, or a session like this — it's so valuable.

Katerina Sachak

Hello. My name is Katerina Sachak. I am Red River Metis on my mom's side, with family names Desjard, Monkman and Goulet, and Ukrainian on my father's side. I am originally from Rupert's Land, the homeland of the Metis nation. I am currently at Justice as Trauma 2025, and I was here last year as well — it was just fantastic. We all have trauma, we all bring trauma. And I think that in the justice system oftentimes that trauma doesn't get fixed, it just ends up getting worse, and we need to deal with that. And I'm very much of the belief that trauma is often the root cause of any kind of quote unquote criminal behavior. It's something that needs to be more understood. So looking at this from a more humanistic way and just thinking about the fact that the justice system is a human based system that is not at all human oriented, and it often ignores the trauma. So I think everyone should learn everything that we're learning here.

Tyler Red Sky

I'm Tyler Red Sky. I use they/them pronouns. I'm a settler — my ancestors have come from Ireland, Sicily, the Maghreb, and the Levant. I am very honored to have gotten to attend. I'm also trans and queer, and I'm someone who's both experienced and caused harm and works in restorative justice. And for me, the privilege was really being in a space that wasn't majority white bodied — a place where I could find myself to settle while still being challenged to think about the systems that we find ourselves struggling to survive in and how to build community around strategies towards liberation and to make ourselves safer. And even as a fairly shy and awkward person, I really got a lot out of being in the smaller groups and tables, learning from the keynotes to the panels, to the workshops, and just found it to be one of the best, if not the best, conference I've ever gotten to attend.

Kayla Kaslap

It was an honor and privilege because everyone has some kind of connection to her. So it's really great to see a room filled with so many different dynamic relationships with Myrna and what she does and how she creates something to educate everyone in a different way. The best part of the conference, I think, was sitting next to somebody and realizing the perspective that I heard and what she heard was completely different. So it's really great for so many different minded people to come together. The best part, I think, for what we do is to share the voices of the people through the trauma healing program who'll never be able to come into a space like this — but we could use their words, their statements, and share them for others to utilize in their profession. That is a huge, huge takeaway for me: to bring other people's words of their trauma to help educate others to be better.

Angus McCarthy

Hi, I'm Angus McCarthy from Cork in Ireland. This was the best conference I was ever at, as simple as that — either attending or speaking. The reason for that, I think, is because it had the most genuine and real and big-hearted people that I can say I've ever heard speak. And what I mean by that is that rather than it being simply a conference about statistics and empirical evidence that sometimes can put us to sleep depending on the subject matter, this involved hundreds of people from all different backgrounds telling their stories as to why it's so important to engage in trauma responsive practices. And they gave me a renewed sense of vigor that it can be done, and can only be done when all of us stick together in terms of advancing and implementing systemic change. And that's why I've got the confidence going back to Dublin that it can be done, because there are so many other people who share that view. So it's just brilliant for that and many other reasons. And the chocolate cake is just delicious — I just had my sixth one or something. But it was brilliant. And I'm really grateful to you for having me over, Myrna.

Janet Lee

My name is Janet Lee, hailing from St. John's Newfoundland and Labrador, Provincial Director with the Journey Project. There's a radio show back home where when people call in they often say "first time caller, longtime listener." And I would say that's my experience with this podcast. And my experience with this conference is that I'm one of maybe the privileged few who have gotten to come two years in a row now. Last year when I left, I was so filled with inspiration about the things that I could do in my work and the way that I could support my team through my leadership. And this year as we end day three, the thoughts that are coming to me primarily are not just about the quote unquote work, but the expansiveness of humanity that so much of these learnings and these wisdoms really offer us. And so I leave with this kind of spaciousness, with this gratitude for the people and the energy that have come to this conference and for the creators and co-creators of the space and the learning in this place, and just really am looking forward with hope for what next year can certainly be.

Mariana

My name is Mariana. I'm part of the organizing team of Justice as Trauma this year. And I found it such an immense privilege just working on the organization of everything — talking to the speakers, talking to the volunteers, talking with Myrna and Ali. I thought that was so incredible to just have that feeling of being part of organizing something like that. But now that we're here and the conference is actually happening, I feel like that feeling of happiness I had, that fulfillment, is nothing compared to how I feel right now. Being here in the conference and being around so many awesome people — like-minded people, supportive people, people who walk their talk. And I think I'm a doer even. Vanessa told me "you need to stop saying that you want to fix things for people." And I couldn't believe she said that because I say that all the time — oh, I wish I could fix this for you. But in this conference I also realized that we can only fix ourselves, and then in that way we can help others heal too. When you heal yourself, you can heal the people around you. Just even by example, like Myrna, how she always talks. And something that really stayed with me is — and everybody keeps repeating it — "if not you, then who? And if not now, then when?" I feel like there are many questions that come from the conference, but I've also gotten so many answers and so many visions that I was not even expecting or even longing for. And it feels like a fresh glass of water. I'm just so happy and privileged and so excited for next year's conference. Myrna, thank you.

Myrna McCallum (Keynote — Dinner, Day Two)

And I forgot to start recording on my phone. I promised my good friend Margaret wanted to be here tonight, but she couldn't. And I said I'll record it and you can listen. I forgot to turn on my recorder, but I just — anyway, let me start again. Just kidding.

I want to say a little bit about what got me here. And I have a long way to go, and I have a lot to learn. I make mistakes, I fuck up all the time. I don't know it all. I'm just a lawyer. I'm certainly — I almost said I'm not a healer, but I don't think that's true, because I was in a session with my friend Moana, and the first thing I heard, as soon as she put her hands on me — and anyone in this room who's been in a session with her, you know what I'm talking about — the first thing I heard was an elder of mine. His name was Simlano. He passed away like 25 years ago. He was a Muslim elder and a healer. I heard him immediately. And he said, "You're a healer, baby." He talked to everyone that way. Didn't matter what gender, what age. Everyone was "baby" to him, making you feel special with that. And so that's what he said: "You're a healer, baby." I was trying to process the hands that I was feeling on me when you weren't even in touch with me. But anyway, and then I got to thinking about how there's a judge from long ago times in Georgia — well reported on — who said: when our professions were born, doctors were considered healers for the body, and lawyers were considered healers for community and relationship. And what we need to do is get back to that. So we all have that potential to be healers, if you so choose.

I certainly didn't come into law thinking I was going to heal anybody. In fact, I came into law because I was running from my pain. I looked around and thought, what can I do with my life that's going to help me escape the poverty that I knew was inevitably going to be my future? And I started to watch TV shows. I'd see something similar to Law and Order and I saw lawyers, and they looked cold and calculated. And if I'm being honest, it looked like a bunch of fucking assholes. No feeling. Cuts rope. And I'm like, those are my people. How do I get there? What did I love about it? I loved the fact that they were operating from here — the head — all the time, and they dismissed whatever was here — the heart. There's no feelings here, right? Unless, of course, it's rage. Rage was welcome. And I'm like, okay yes. I've got volumes of rage. Let's go.

And then I went to law school at UBC. I did my bar course here in Klober, and it was very validating because no one talked about trauma. No one talked about healing, humility, humanity. Nothing. And I'm like, yes. And then I decided to become a criminal lawyer. I was a defense lawyer, then I was a prosecutor. I learned — and some of you have heard this before — the whole range of human suffering meets you in a criminal courtroom. And every time I showed up in those spaces, when I would see women who'd been abused by their partners — like, horrific gunshot wounds to the face, stab wounds — plead with me: "Please drop the charge, I love him." I would see my mother. I was given this credit, I didn't know at the time. I didn't have the language. This was like 2007, 2008. I didn't know what a trigger was. All I knew was I was seeing my mom. Every time I looked at these women. When I was dealing with children, I saw me. I saw my brother. And every day I felt sick going into work, going into court. And I became even more dehumanizing. I became even more committed to disconnection because I also learned a little later on that in order to see the humanity in other people, you have to be willing to feel it in yourself. And I wasn't willing to feel anything. So I became very disconnected, very dehumanizing. I hurt a lot of people because I would tell them, "You need to park that emotion because I'm talking to you. I only got 20 more minutes for this interview and then I've got to go talk to about eight other people. I've got trials to run today, I've got bail hearings, and you need to walk it back down. And if you can't hold it together then I'm going to put your matter over to next week." It was brutal. I was brutal. I harmed a lot of people.

And then one day a file came across my desk. Trigger warning, folks — I'm going to say some things that might be hard to hear, and I'm not doing it to hurt anyone. I'm doing it because this work is honest, it's real and it's raw. So this file: a six year old boy. He had been harmed by an older person in their community, and his parents didn't know until one day they're out looking for him and they find him in the back of their huge spread of land, near where he plays by the creek, and he was trying to hang himself. That's when they sat with him and heard what had happened. Police, and then the file comes to me. I get this file and it immediately stops me in my tracks for a couple of reasons. One: that's about the same age I also started self harming — when I was six years old. So I immediately saw me in him and I was shaking because of all the things that come up. And then all I can think is: how do I not harm this child in this litigation that's about to happen, when it's all harmful, it's all traumatic, it's all traumatizing? I really didn't know what the hell I was doing. But I called up his parents and said, "Hey, my name is Myrna, I'm a prosecutor assigned to this matter. I would really love to meet your family. I want to meet all of you. Is that okay? I'm willing to drive up on a Sunday, come for a visit." They said, "Okay yeah, please come over." So I drive three hours north on a really shitty road and they invite me in for coffee and bannock, as they do in the north. And I hang out with the parents. I want them to know me and we just chat about all kinds of things and we chat about their son and their concerns. And then I ask if I could talk to him. I get their permission. And then he and I go for a walk on the land and we're looking at the creek and looking at the bird's nest and we're just talking about birds and stuff. And then I get into it, because that's the job. And I'm like, "Tell me about when you were playing." And then he starts to tell me everything — and even more than what was in the police report. And he did it in such an easy, flowing way. And I really think that came so easily because we were walking in a comfortable, familiar, safe space for him. He was right near his home. His parents were just over to the side. We were in places that were familiar. I didn't call him in, sit him down in an interview room with no windows, go around the desk, look at the open file and say, "So this happened to you. Do you remember what time it was? What time of day was that?" — that typical thing we do as police officers, as lawyers. I didn't do any of that.

And then I committed to meet with him a few more times. We did some role play in the courtroom. We did a few other things. And by the time the trial came, we were in a community hall. Anyone who's been in court in a community hall, you know — we don't always have technology and sometimes we don't even have a proper roof. So I had to get him to testify behind a screen. I made the application, it was granted, so he didn't have to face his perpetrator. And then I made a huge mistake — a misstep. I don't know how I forgot this, but where I come from in the north, everyone is known not by their legal name, but by a nickname. And so I say to him, "Do you know so and so?" He's like, "Nope." And that's when I was like, oh shit. How did I forget this very important thing? Because in order to get a conviction, you need to establish identity, and identity is number one on the list. And I'm like, how could I miss this? And then he sees me struggling. We kind of know each other. He was looking at me and he's like, "Who do you mean?" And then he stands up, peeks around the screen and he's like, "Him? That's him? Yeah, that's him." And I was like, "Yes, thank you very much." And then I was able to establish identity. But in that moment of him peeking around the screen and facing off with the person in front of him, I saw something in him — it's like I could see something coming back to him. And his parents saw it, and there was something in his voice. And I knew this little boy was going to be okay.

After the trial, his parents called me regularly just to thank me. And they kept saying, "Thank God there's a native prosecutor up here. Thank God for you." And I was like, holy shit. I hope to God it's not just because I'm native. I would hope that some of my colleagues would treat them — and they said, "We've never heard of a prosecutor doing what you did. We asked around. Hey, have you had a prosecutor come visit you? Nope." And I'm like, well, it's got to change. It's got to change. But I knew in that space and in that time, it wasn't going to change. And I had to decide: am I going to be part of this or no?

So then I left and I adjudicated, and it was residential school claims. And I don't know why I thought that was better — like a better move — because if I was in the frying pan in prosecutions, then I jumped into the fire in adjudication, because I went to residential school, as did my brother. So now I'm front and center in my own story over and over and over again. And anyone who listens to the Trauma Informed Lawyer podcast — you know I talk briefly about this — how that experience was really my education in trauma. It was residential school survivors who taught me, and indigenous children who taught me most of what I know about trauma, most of what I've come to know, and most of what I've learned about how to be in relationship with other people, because I didn't know how to do it before.

And so this work of being trauma informed, trauma responsive, culturally responsive — call it what we will — is hard work. It's never easy to sit in someone else's pain, especially when your pain is firing on all cylinders. It's never easy, but we have to keep coming back to it. Because if not you, then who? And if not now, then when? It means you have to be okay with not knowing everything. You don't need to know everything. You don't have to have all the answers. I've also come to embrace this, because what I know for sure is that sometimes it's the question — the question is where the magic is, not the answer. And you have to sit with that. I have to sit with that.

And so this work that you're doing, that I'm doing — if it doesn't feel uncomfortable, if it doesn't feel triggering, if it doesn't feel emotional, then you're not really doing it. You're not really doing it. And so I would say be kind to yourself and compassionate and curious. When something comes up and you feel a certain kind of way, just be curious: what was that? Or if you mess up or you say a thing or do a thing and you're like, "I shouldn't have said that, I wish I hadn't done that, what the hell's wrong with me" — instead of doing that, because that serves no one, simply be curious: what was going on for me that that was how I reacted, that was how I responded to that person? What was happening for me?

I have a long way to go and I hope I get to live long enough to travel that road. I'd like to see what this profession can look like 20 years from now if more lawyers and judges and police officers embrace and commit to understanding trauma — trauma in themselves and trauma in others — and how to bring healing practices to the work that they do. Because we're human beings. We all need to heal. We need healing. And if we're not healing, then I hope we're not hurting people. But in my experience, we're hurting people whether we're conscious of it or not.

Thomas Hübl says in his book Healing Collective Trauma: whether individual or collective, trauma fragments and fractures into sounds and silences. It creates denial and forgetting. To assist in this repair, we must feel together what someone else is experiencing, even the stuff we want to look away from. Because to dismiss, deny, minimize, or willfully forget is to uphold the institutions of inequality and injustice and inhumanity that created them. So anytime you wonder, "Am I doing harm and how do I do harm?" — do you look away when somebody is showing you their pain? Do you minimize? "It's not that bad. I don't know why you're so upset. I've heard worse." We do that sometimes, right? When we become so desensitized to violence. So when we minimize, dismiss, deny, willfully forget what someone has shown us — that's when we are causing harm. If you're not sure if you're doing harm, that's kind of the litmus test.

And so I just want to leave you with these few words around healing, hope, and humanity. No one's perfect. I certainly am not. My children will be the first people to tell you how fucked up I am. I mean, I'm learning, I'm trying, I'm showing up, I'm allowing myself to be seen — which is the hardest thing for me. I do hard things. And some days, my brother calls me and he's like, "Sis, I see how tired you are." And he's like, "And it's okay to be tired. It's okay to not want to get out of bed. It's okay to not want to wash your ass. That's okay. To do nothing, to just lay limp in your bed. That is okay." He says, "I just want to say, if no one ever said to you — the work that you're doing to connect white people with their own humanity so they stop harming your people in a courtroom, that has to be heavy shit. And if you're tired, that's okay." And no one has ever said that to me — that what you're doing has to be so heavy. And I all of a sudden started to cry because I'd never heard that before.

And so I want you to know, when I say I see you, I mean my spirit sees you. My heart sees you. I know you're doing the work. I know you're doing the work because you are here with me. You came when I called, and I want to thank you for that. And keep doing the work. And when you're feeling like you want to stay in bed and you can't take another day — reach out to someone, connect with folks here, because they're also probably in their bed somewhere going, "I can't do another day." We have to hold each other up. Because if not us, then who? And if not now, then when? It's on you and me and us together to bring healing, humility, and humanity to all the spaces that we occupy and all the relationships that we participate in.