A friend was arrested by ICE today for protesting. Community members are being disappeared from homes and neighborhoods. People is Gaza are being starved to death. Unhoused people are being criminalized. The list goes on and on.
My friend was standing up for justice. In the "land of thre free" she was protesting and walking into I C E office with a neighbor that was alone, checking in for their appointment; following the "rules."
She was standing alongside her neighbors. Using her privilege.
For justice in an unjust system.
She knew the risks. But she showed up anyway.
Because that is what leadership with privilege looks like.
It’s not always on a stage, done for glory or credit.
It’s not always paid or praised or protected.
Leadership is often unseen. Quiet. Risky. Costly.
Her arrest is a gut-punch reminder that leadership is not a title; it is a daily practice. One that requires courage, clarity, and a commitment to showing up for each other even when it’s dangerous.
Even when it’s hard or scary.
At L3 Catalyst Group, we know leadership is intention in action. How we live, how we decide, and how we care, even when no one is watching. That is leadership.
That protest sign? Leadership.
That uncomfortable conversation about inclusion at church council? Leadership.
That time you got feedback about your bias or racism, and awkwardly took it to heart and adjusted? Also leadership.
Some may call it just being a good human. But it takes intentionality, bravery, and action, however small.
We don’t have to wait for a committee or a title. We don’t need a pulpit or a formal platform.
We just need to ask:
What do I value?
What am I willing to risk?
How can I embody justice and love today?
In this moment—where I C E is ramping up with an astronomical budget and signing bonuses larger than many teachers' salaries to disappear more people, where systemic injustice is alive and well in our organizations, faith communities, and neighborhoods—brave leadership, working for equity, is not optional.
It’s essential.
But we also don’t do it alone.
This is exactly our time.
The work of transformation toward equity and inclusion requires us to move together, starting with small, consistent acts:
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A courageous question in a committee meeting.
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A budget that reflects your faith community's values.
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A community meal that centers immigrant neighbors instead of speaking about them or to them.
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A sermon that names white supremacy and lifts up liberatory practice.
- An investment to better understand how our organizational systems perpetuate inequity and support those with power.
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Intentional practice that makes room for queer and trans folks to breathe freely around you and within your organization(s).
Leadership is daily.
Leadership is the divine embodied.
Leadership is collective.
And sometimes, leadership gets arrested—because telling the truth in public has always threatened systems that depend on silence.
Today, know that protesting isn't the only way to act.
What is your one, small step? One intentional act that moves your context toward justice.
Maybe it’s moving money to a bail fund. Maybe it's lending your time and energy to support an immagrant led effort. Maybe it’s checking or sending a note to a someone who’s grieving, angry, or scared.
Not for applause or credit or out of fear, but because the world needs your action and your love.
Do it because someone like my friend should never have to stand alone.
Do it for those unjustly imprisoned and sent to El Salvador.
Do it for your conscience.
Do it because small acts of equity cumulate to justice.
Do it because love and justice are louder when we live it together.

July 25, 2025
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