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Writer's pictureJudy Lee

End of Year Reflections 2024

Cultures Connecting staff headshots with stars
From left to right: Ilsa, Richard, Caprice, J.P., Judy

2024 is coming to a close which makes it a great time to reflect on the past year before the new one begins. We asked our team to select from the following questions and share their thoughts:


  • What are some things that brought you joy?

  • What was the most valuable lesson you learned?

  • In what ways did you grow as a person?

  • What was something you did that had you step out of your comfort zone?

  • What are you most proud of?


Read below to see which questions we responded to and our answer!


 

Ilsa Govan


What are you most proud of?

2024 is the year I turned 50 and, in addition to many celebrations (often involving unicorns), I’ve been reflecting more intentionally on what I want to do and ways I want to continue to grow in the next chapter of my life. With that in mind, I decided to apply for and was accepted into the Leadership for Learning (L4L) doctorate program at the University of Washington. Since starting the program last July, the faculty, class community, and assignments have already changed the way I engage people in workshops and coaching sessions. Investing time in this opportunity to challenge myself and commit to growing with a community of learners is what I’m most proud of this year.


What are some things that brought you joy?

For the past three years I’ve been planning a hiking vacation with some of my closest friends and family. This summer, we made the trip to Europe to spend 10 days hiking around Mont Blanc. At the end of each epic day of strenuous climbs, grueling downhills, mooing at cows with bells on their necks, and incredible alpine views, we would do the GLAD process over dinner. This is something my sister shared with us, where we each named something we were grateful for, something we learned, an accomplishment, and something that delighted us from the day. Debriefing our day like this helped me to pay more attention to the small delights and my own growth through our journey, as well as notice things my hiking family brought to my attention.


What is a valuable lesson you learned?

I’ve been reflecting a lot on the importance of the B in DEIB, Belonging. At our company retreat last summer, we had a rich conversation about the different ways we have or have not felt a sense of belonging in our lives. Recognizing this as a core human need, I’m reexamining the ways my ancestors gave up some of our ethnic and cultural practices to get the false promise of belonging and privileges of whiteness. I’m thinking about all the ways I’ve tried to cultivate and be a part of different communities, understanding what connection means when it is not rooted in getting something at the expense of others. Our team has been invaluable to me in redefining what it means to co-create a culture of belonging.


 

Richard Kim


What are some things that brought you joy?

There was one big moment that came to mind that I initially didn’t think of as “joy” but brought a smile to my face. My oldest turned 8 this year. In the spring, I was excited to go with my family to Florida for a family vacation. Having grown up there, Florida was a place that holds a lot of memories and one of my favorite memories were my family trips to Disney World. When we got to Disney World, the memories of my own childhood began flooding back. It may seem small, but sharing that experience with him felt significant for me (I am sure there is a lot to unpack there). I hope he had as much fun as I did.


What was the most valuable lesson you learned?

The simple answer to this question is resilience. The longer answer stems back over 17 years ago when I was a first-year graduate student eager to learn how to change the world. During the keynote of a conference that first year I was in awe as the guest spoke about social justice and the hard work of helping communities transform. I was inspired and quickly rushed over to meet her offstage after she finished. As we walked, I asked what advice she had for a young first year graduate student who wanted to do the type of work she had just spoke about. It felt like she looked straight through when she said, “Don’t do it.”


I think back to that time regularly so many years later actually doing the work she spoke of. And each year I learn a little more of what she meant. To be fair, she went on to say, “Don’t do it unless you feel genuinely called and have people who will love and support you. This work is too hard for anyone to do alone.” If I am honest, things have gotten hard this past year. In the midst of backlash to DEI many people's spirits are down. They are tired and so am I. More than ever community has become a necessity to keep me on my call. I am still here not just by my own strength but because I am in community with people that sees me, know me, encourage me, and are always a phone call away.


 

Caprice Hollins


What was something you did that had you step out of your comfort zone?

Throughout my years as a consultant, I’ve been asked to facilitate courageous conversations after something happened that led to a division amongst staff, amongst leadership, or between staff and leadership. Typically, the situation has been made worse by how it was initially handled or because it was left unaddressed. When I would receive these requests, I always responded with, “That’s not something I do.” Being the constant critical reflector that I am, sometimes to a fault, I was well aware that I was afraid. I worried that I would make things worse and feared further harming those most impacted by what happened. I would try to talk myself into accepting the next invitation to help organizations repair and bridge the divide by reminding myself of the degree I hold in psychology and DEIB. But my self-talk never prevailed. I realized I feared losing my consultant credibility.


Early this year a client reached out with this same request I had been avoiding for years. Only this time, nothing I said could convince them that I wasn’t the right person to lead them. So, I gave in and said I’d do it. Of course, not without one last opportunity to convey that if things don’t go well, don’t say I didn’t tell you, this isn’t the work I do. I’m so grateful to my client who trusted in me, in ways I didn’t trust in myself. None of my fears ended up happening. In fact, all of the hopes I had for them did. What a rewarding feeling. This experience increased my confidence in my skills and abilities and left me eager for future opportunities. And you know what? Those opportunities did come my way. And instead of saying, I can’t, I said, I will. And I did. And each time I get better at it.


This experience reminds me that in many cases, I’m better at doing something that I think I am. It causes me to remember that just because I’m afraid, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. I still get anxious and afraid. But it’s because I care about the people I’m working with, and I still don’t want to cause harm, and I still don’t want to lose credibility. Imagine living in a world where we made choices based on what we hoped could happen if we tried, rather than our fears.


What are you most proud of?

I’m really proud of how well I’ve been doing at practicing self-care. I’m turning off my computer earlier rather than working late at night. I’m taking time off sometimes it’s getting off early in the day, sometimes it takes an entire day off or even a week or two. Rather than telling everyone else to take care of themselves, I’m believing in my own psychological, physical, social, and emotional wellbeing, and taking care of me. I’m feeling less guilty when I say no or when something doesn’t get finished. This has been a long journey for me. I wish I had done more of it when my children were younger. But the important thing is, I’m doing it now.


 

J.P. Anderson


What are some things that brought you joy?

This was a big year for me and my family. We moved back to Seattle from San Diego after I made the decision to resign at San Diego State University. It was, to say the least, an excruciating decision. A professorship at a research university is a highly regarded position, with great benefits and high status. However, as I and many others have discovered, academia is not for everyone. Sometimes being good at something is not enough reason to keep doing it. So although it was likely one of the hardest decisions in my life, it brought me joy to take a leap of faith and do something new. As 2025 approaches, I have to say that this is the happiest I have been in years. I miss my scholarly community and know that I will never truly depart a scholarly life. Nonetheless, the social and emotional impact I can have as a consultant is truly satisfying!


What was the most valuable lesson you learned?

This year, I was reminded of a seemingly life-long lesson: be true to yourself! It’s amazing to me how easily our path can become derailed by success. I have often assumed that success leads one toward their purpose, but this isn’t always the case. I (re)learned that I have to evaluate my life not by the approval of others, but rather the extent to which my everyday activity reflects my core values and inspirations. It is a privilege to be able consider such an evaluation, and thus my solemn responsibility to take what action I can to align my values with how I live. I am thankful for the adversity that contributed to this lesson, painful though it was. Another lesson I (re)learned is that we cannot grow without a certain degree of pain and suffering, and I hope I remember this lesson more often on my hard days.


In what ways did you grow as a person?

One way I grew this year which is really import to me is that I finally committed to authentic self-care, which means facing the legacy of grief and trauma in my body that I previously thought would just magically heal with time. It seems that time heals very little, and I realized I had to take responsibility and do the work. I feel like this process has unlocked so much for me. I feel genuine hope and excitement, which is something I learned to live without for too long.


What was something you did that had you step out of your comfort zone?

My most uncomfortable moments this year were talking about myself during workshops! I had no idea I had so many hangups about my personal story and my complex family background until I was asked to speak about such things to a room of people I do not know well. Through tremendous luck, I found a career in which talking about one’s life story is fundamental to the work; so, I was gifted the opportunity to confront and (mostly) overcome my discomfort.


 

Judy Lee


What are you most proud of? 

While I work for Cultures Connecting part-time, I spend the other half of my time as a Narrative Artist and community care advocate. This year, after 2+ years of working on My Name Story , a portrait-video project that tells the stories of Asian Americans names, I was finally able to put together an exhibit in Seattle which ended up being featured locally on King 5’s New Day Northwest and internationally on CGTN America. I am also proud of all the advocacy work I engaged in for the artist community. I curated my first art show at QTBIPOC centered art gallery The Fishbowl called “From the Margins” about marginalized experiences, which was also featured on King 5. I later partnered with The Fishbowl to hold grant writing office hours and invited grant winners to speak to emerging artists, all in an effort to encourage artists to apply for funding. I’ve also regularly shared a list of accessible grant and exhibition opportunities for artists through social media. These efforts led to a partnership with architecture and design magazine Arcade NW to write 2 profiles of BIPOC artists of my choosing whose work reflect important social justice issues (read about Carlos and Marisol). I am proud of having my photographs and words published to spread awareness and getting paid for it, making me a published artist and writer! Currently, I'm assisting Portraits of Humanity (read my interview with them on our blog) apply for exhibition opportunities. Growing my arts community and making a positive impact has brought me so much joy and a sense of belonging this past year. 


What was the most valuable lesson you learned?

As much as there were accomplishments this past year, there were definitely lots of lows. Our family has been going through some heavy things and one of the practices I’ve had to truly deepen is radical acceptance. I’ve done a lot of work over the years practicing this for myself but it’s completely different when you have to do this with someone you love who depends on you and is hurting. Recognizing that there is only so much I can do to help has been painfully difficult. This practice has meant giving myself permission and space to feel bad, grieve, and sometimes withdraw from the community I've worked to nurture for periods of time. I’ve had to be really cognizant of my energy and be selective about the things to which I gave my time. It's also given me an opportunity to nurture relationships with friends who make space for all that I am going through. I am grateful that I had the privilege to do this but also have to remind myself that it’s okay to step back from things that are important to me like my artwork and community advocacy and trust that this time will help re-energize me for next year. This year was a real lesson in embracing the complexity of life―messy, bumpy, with lots of contradicting dualitiesand learning to make peace with all it.


In what ways did you grow as a person?

I never felt “safe” being Asian American growing up. While I grew up in a community of fellow Korean Americans through church, I distinctly remember the stares and microaggressions we would face whenever groups of us traveled together as teenagers. Add to that internalized racism and White supremacy, as well as not fitting into the model of being a “good” Korean (i.e., not adhering to the stereotypical model of filial piety, buying into traditional roles, etc.), and my “Koreanness/Asianness” and its community was something I’ve always pushed away, thinking I didn't want or need it. It’s taken me a lifetime of unraveling all that to figure out what my racialized identity means to me, especially as an in-betweener, a hyphen, as Asian-American. These past few years, I’ve learned to find home in Asian American spaces and have been nurturing one-on-one relationships with Korean and other Asian Americans, many of them artists, who like me, were the “bad” Koreans and never really fit in. I’ve also been hanging out in the Chinatown International District in Seattle more and am grateful for spaces like Mam’s Bookstore (only 1 of 2 Asian American bookstores in the U.S.) who provide Asian American book and movie clubs. Being in community with others like me with messy and complicated identities, who don’t rely on conformity to connect, has helped me learn to define my own identity and feel, for the first time, what belonging in a healthy and self-aware community feels like. This exploration of self has also led to a period of reading books exclusively by Asian American authors. To think that there are so many out there that I can spend the year reading has been mind-blowing and gratifying to see my Asian American experience reflected in mainstream America.


 

Thank you for reading! We invite you to reflect on these questions and if you would like to share your answers with us, we would love to share them on our social media. Contact Judy at judy.lee@culturesconnecting.com

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