Amy Stocklein
Madison: “I want white women to get their shit together so we can move on.”
Before introductions begin, Sabrina “Heymiss Progress” Madison bluntly shares her goal for today’s learning lab: “I want white women to get their shit together so we can move on.”
It’s a Friday afternoon in mid-December and about 20 white women are gathered in a conference room at the Progress Center for Black Women, which Madison founded in November 2018 to serve as a community hub for black women and their families. A brief outline of today’s workshop is written in faded black marker on the white board behind the table. Madison takes a gentle poke at her students. “White women love agendas,” she says. “Some of you need to know how this works.”
Madison says she was moved to start her center, which is located in Fitchburg, because she “wanted to create a space for black women where they feel ownership, which is uncommon in Madison.”
But Madison also sees a need to mentor white women in how to be sensitive allies. The idea came to her while meeting with another black woman at a coffee shop when a white woman inserted herself into their conversation.
“I realized I could be frustrated, or I could help [white women] be better with their interactions,” Madison says. Tired of diversity trainings “that didn’t get to the heart of the matter,” Madison wanted the learning labs to help women who “truly want things to be different at work and in school,” she says.
Today’s session — the fourth one since Madison launched the labs — includes lawyers, journalists, an employee of the Madison sewerage district, a landscape architect, and stay-at-home moms. Some women are here because they want to diversify their workplaces; others want some insight into raising children.
Madison says the women are welcome to mix up the order of the agenda. “I’m not going to be like ‘oh you are trying to colonize the learning lab,’” she jokes. The room erupts in laughter.
The questions begin, though some are tentative. One person asks: “Is it black, person of color, African American?”
Madison recommends asking the source. “Most black folks will self-identify," says Madison, who refers to herself as black. "Refrain from any label until they say it…. We’ll give you clues as to what to say.”
Much of the learning lab is conducted as a question and answer session, but Madison has some clear suggestions on how to “build social capital” with black people. “Be conscious of how you create spaces where people feel valued,” Madison says. “Make people feel welcome in buildings by finding artwork by black artists and having photos of non-white people.”
Madison also hands out listings of black-owned businesses in the Madison area and encourages the women to support these establishments. “It helps you refer other black people to them, but it also gives you opportunities to be in spaces with black people,” she says. But be cool about it, Madison warns. “If you are talking to a black person at work about food, you can say ‘I normally eat at Qdoba, but I went to Marie’s Soul Food the other day.’ Don’t get awkward by starting off with ‘I just had fried chicken at Marie’s.’”
At one point, Rochelle Moaddel raises her hand. “I have two white boys, ages 7 and 2,” Moaddel says. “How do we diversify their experiences? Should we take them to a park in a different neighborhood or are we inserting ourselves?”
“You all are overthinking it,” Madison says. “Why don’t you take them to a Juneteenth event?”
“June 18?” Moaddel asks. “Juneteenth!” Madison replies, explaining the holiday that commemorates the emancipation of enslaved African Americans. “Oh sorry,” Moaddel says.
Madison also suggests diversifying home libraries. “Not stories of poor black kids whose dad is in prison,” Madison says. “Just everyday books — we have more in common than you think.”
It’s a theme that Madison keeps returning to during the 2 ½ hour session.
“It’s so simple,” Madison says. “We’re just forgetting to connect with the human.”
Why Madison has a fake Facebook profile that makes her a white woman: “I joined a neighborhood group,” Madison says. “I love it. I get to see how people are when they don’t think I’m in the room. It lets me see the high level of irrational fear.”
Details on future classes: heymissprogress.com/events.
Cost of class: $147, or, if unable to pay in full, a “reasonable” donation
In the works: Labs for white men. “I’m just going to charge them more based on the gender wage differential!” Madison says.
[Editor's note: This story was updated to make clear that Madison refers to herself as "black."]
