How Our Starting Point Shapes Transformative Change

A good friend, film maker and cultural educator, once told me that it was "f@cked up" to begin African American history with the slave trade. For him, beginning with bondage, coercion, and relative powerlessness was damaging to the psyche of African American children and young people. With his home schooled children and his students, he wisely began with the rich cultural traditions of central and western Africa and times of sovereignty and innovation in the fields of mathematics, architecture, science and music.

As a teacher of Afro-Caribbean rhythms and history, I began with European colonization of Caribbean lands, the forced assimilation, displacement and genocide of Indigenous people, and the capture and enslavement of Africans from hundreds of distinct ethnic groups. I did so to set a context for the role of musical traditions in the lives of enslaved people. My main message in 15 years of cultural work was that in the context of cultural erasure, forced labor, and the subjugation of body, mind and spirit, music was a tool of survival and resistance. My hubris, at first, blocked my view of  participants' inherent (ancestral) knowledge of this and the ways they lived this out through the musical traditions they claimed as their own.

I’ve worked with many people and organizations who feel the locus of their power in the fight against injustice. Certainly, when we come together in a common struggle for access to basic human rights of quality housing, education, and health care and living wage work within an extractive and exploitative economic and political system and WIN, there is a sense of collective power that emboldens the spirit and strengthens the heart. 

But beginning with what we don’t have has never sat right with me. After five years of honing my skills as an organizer, my discomfort became so acute that I felt myself dying a slow death. In fact, in one meeting as I turned to chart the complaints and justifiable anger of resident leaders, I heard a voice say within me, “You are dying here.”  Over the next six months, I steadily diminished my organizer hours and began studying Afro-Caribbean folkloric traditions with the master percussionist, Robertico Arias. From the first lesson, Robertico wove histories of the rhythms into his lessons on technique and rhythm styles. After six months of study, I left my part time organizer position and began an experimental journey in collective music making. 

What I loved most about music as a means of justice making, was that the groups I gathered began with a sense of cultural riches and collective abundance. The locus of our power was not in an external fight, but in the sinew and blood of our bodies, in the spiritual wisdom of ancestors, in the vibrant rhythms and songs we sounded together. We did not have to fight to have power, but rooted in our power we were compelled to change the conditions that suppressed or denied its full exercising and expression. 

Where we begin determines the change we make

Our starting point profoundly influences the kind of change we create. When our starting point is sovereignty and abundance and not oppression and scarcity, the vital work of transformative justice becomes one of coming full circle to our intrinsic power - power that can never be taken from us. This is about understanding that where we start can determine the depth, sustainability, and authenticity of the transformation we seek—whether on a personal level, within our communities, or on a broader social scale.

If we focus solely on fixing what is broken, we inevitably frame ourselves, our communities, and our efforts as inherently lacking. This scarcity-focused perspective limits our potential and keeps us caught in cycles of deficit. In contrast, when we start from a place of recognizing our cultural richness, the story shifts. We begin to see what is already working, the assets we have inherited, and the creativity that is already in us.

Cultural wealth isn’t about material resources—it’s the stories, traditions, art, language, and resilience passed down through generations. When we tap into these elements as our starting point, the energy of transformation becomes celebratory rather than punitive. We honor our histories, reclaim our voices, and create from a place of fullness.

A Perspective Shift Towards Cultural Richness

While it is essential to acknowledge trauma and adversity, when our only focus is on what’s been lost, our imagination can be limited. Beginning from a perspective of bondage frames our efforts as a means to simply survive or recover.

But what happens if we shift the starting point to cultural richness and collective power? Instead of focusing on deficiencies or what needs fixing, we start from a place of abundance—the wisdom of our ancestors, the beauty of our traditions, the strength in our collective identity. From this viewpoint, change is no longer just survival or escaping pain; it is about building something expansive that carries our legacies forward.

This shift allows us to redefine the very nature of social change. It means asking: How do we use the rich legacies we inherit to fuel growth and solidarity? How do we draw on the best parts of ourselves—our love, our creativity, our interdependence—to create something transformative?

The narratives we tell ourselves and each other hold immense power. Scarcity tells us we must hustle to fill the gaps, that we must fight to become worthy. Abundance, on the other hand, tells us we are enough and that change is about expanding on what is already good and beautiful.

When we operate from this place, we’re not ignoring the real struggles and injustices that exist—we’re simply refusing to let those be the only defining factors. We’re choosing to let our creativity, resilience, and cultural wealth lead the way. We center the belief that our roots are a source of power, not something to be overcome.

Reflecting on Your Own Starting Place

Consider where you start when you think about change – is it from a place of what’s missing, or from a place of abundance? What is the cultural richness you carry that can fuel transformative change? How can you approach the changes you want to make with a sense of fullness rather than lack? 

Where is the locus of power for you?

Leading with our stories and our capacity for love allows us to create change that feels authentic, sustainable, and deeply connected.