Rest As Revolution
Genevieve Leighton-Armah wants to make sure the leaders on the front lines of the fight for racial justice are getting the rest and revitalization they need to keep moving forward.
Activist Burnout is a term that has recently been added to the collective lexicon. From podcasts to ‘gram posts, it’s common to hear talk of the need for mental health check-ins, social media detoxes, and other forms of self-care and self-preservation as the fight for justice and equity continues—and often wears down those leading the charge.
Genevieve Leighton-Armah didn’t want to just hear about Activist Burnout anymore. She wanted to do something about it. Particularly when she witnessed the physical and mental fatigue of Black leaders who were busy organizing, attending to community needs, and contributing to Bay Area culture.
Leighton-Armah herself knows what it’s like to be busy.
The 30-year-old East Bay native has spent the last eleven years hustling as a young professional in San Francisco: Today she juggles being a full-time law student with working at the Sacramento County Public Defender's Office in the Juvenile Unit. On top of all that, Leighton-Armah regularly volunteers her time supporting local Black leaders and initiatives around the Bay. Between work, study, and activism, she understands the need for rest—and how hard it can be to come by when not purposefully pursued.
But it was the Spring of 2020, after George Floyd’s murder and the wave of protests that followed, when Leighton-Armah fully felt the consequences that physical and mental fatigue could have not only on a personal level, but on the movement for racial justice as a whole.
“I realized that I was tired. I was burnt out. And I was someone who was just volunteering to help out with all these folks on lower levels! So I think my heart just kind of went out, like... I can’t imagine what Black leaders in the Bay Area are going through right now. I can’t imagine what they’re taking on and what they’re not even realizing they’re taking on. And how this is weighing on them in different ways.”
“I can’t imagine what Black leaders in the Bay Area are going through right now. I can’t imagine what they’re taking on and what they’re not even realizing they’re taking on. And how this is weighing on them in different ways.”
It was in the midst of this exhaustion that Leighton-Armah decided that the best thing she could do for herself and for the community was to recharge. She mentioned to a coworker that she was going to spend a weekend in Santa Cruz to rest. The coworker responded by sending her $50 dollars to pay for her gas—a small act that turned into a lightbulb moment.
“It was such a nice, natural thing that she did for me. And it made me stroll into the realization of... wow, I wonder who else needs something like this? I feel like how a lot of Black leaders work in the Bay Area is always constantly thinking outside of themselves. So I decided: maybe I can create a retreat in Santa Cruz for folks to rest, to reflect on all that we’ve been doing, and really restore and plan for the future.”
“I feel like how a lot of Black leaders work in the Bay Area is always constantly thinking outside of themselves. So I decided: maybe I can create a retreat in Santa Cruz for folks to rest, to reflect on all that we’ve been doing, and really restore and plan for the future.”
Her own personal weekend of rest ended up serving as a mini case study for her cause. After a a day of relaxing and recharging, she came back armed with a newfound clarity, and a renewed motivation to get to work. She began thinking about how many spaces weren’t creating rest or genuine support for Black people in the Bay Area, particularly Black leaders. She realized how many Black Panthers and others died far too young, and how ongoing health issues related to burnout and fatigue were going to continue to take young visionaries in their prime if habits and priorities didn’t shift.
“I have worked with a lot of these leaders in the Bay Area, watched as the ripple effect of their hard work has translated into preserving a lot of culture in the Bay Area, in creating safe spaces for not only Black people but for everybody in the Bay.” It was time to pay it forward and create that safe space for them in return.
Leighton-Armah not only wanted to preserve the rich Bay Area culture that these individuals had helped create, but better preserve the Black leaders that are pushing it forward. This spark of inspiration began to manifest almost immediately before her eyes.
She began to speak of her idea of creating a retreat for Bay Area Black leaders with colleagues at her non-profit as well as other professionals in her building. Within a week, she had raised $5,000 for the initiative. But as the momentum towards raising money and finding resources grew, so did the pandemic.
“I have worked with a lot of these leaders in the Bay Area, watched as the ripple effect of their hard work has translated into preserving a lot of culture in the Bay Area, in creating safe spaces for not only Black people but for everybody in the Bay.”
“We pivoted and realized, it’s not safe to hold a retreat. But what was a compromise? A conversation I wanted to have myself was to sit with Black leaders and ask: are we all on the same page? Do we feel like this will be helpful to everyone?” The need to sit down and fully flesh out the idea with local leaders turned into a dinner. It was not only a necessary step forward in implementing Leighton-Armah’s plan, but an event in complete alignment with her quest to preserve, sustain, and celebrate community.
“I just really wanted it to feel, for lack of a better word, just bougie. I wanted it to feel elite. I wanted people to feel royal and be reminded of their opulence. I wanted people to feel something that Black people unfortunately don’t feel very often.”
The $5,000 that was raised for the retreat was used towards creating the very first Bay Area Black Leaders dinner in 2020. In attendance were founders from organizations including Women Sound Off, The Black Neighborhood, Tryb, Be Imaginative Collective and more. Leighton-Armah was struck by how multilayered the event could become, how “the ecosystem of a dream” could support not only the Black leaders who were guests, but the Black community on every level. She hired Black chefs and cohort members to prepare the meal and brought in a Black videographer to capture the night. “I wanted this to be as Black as possible,” she emphasized. “I wanted the space to feel as safe as possible. Prior to [the dinner], I had allies in the space helping me set up. During the actual event of the dinner, it was only Black people in that space. And I realized quickly that that gave all of us a strong sigh of relief. To even be comfortable and to express how we feel.”
“I wanted this to be as Black as possible,” she emphasized. “I wanted the space to feel as safe as possible…During the actual event of the dinner, it was only Black people in that space. And I realized quickly that that gave all of us a strong sigh of relief. To even be comfortable and to express how we feel.”
When the dinner was underway and Leighton-Armah was able to present her idea of radical rest—and an upcoming retreat—to her guests, another lightbulb moment happened right before her eyes. “Everyone was excited and down and kind of had an ‘aha’ moment of realizing how much we needed this. Because that summer didn’t go the way any of us thought it was going to go.”
The idea that rest and rejuvenation were crucial had an almost immediate effect on the leaders around the table. “Have I noticed if people want to rest more? Or realize how much they’re doing in the Bay Area and allow themselves to just take a beat and take up space and be proud? Not even take up space, just rest and reflect and be proud of what we’ve done? I definitely see that happening now. Not only do these people realize that they’re loved by me, but that they’re loved from this greater community that has really benefited from the way that they’ve preserved culture in the Bay Area.”
But now that the first dinner with the inaugural cohort is over—and vaccines are going into arms and the pandemic is showing signs of receding—what comes next?
Leighton-Armah laughs at the many curveballs that have come her way since the original idea came to her, but she thinks the time is finally right for the Bay Area Black Leaders retreat to manifest. Having had a year-plus to plan, she already has the retreat’s schedule mapped out in her mind. The first day would be a focus on resting, breathing, and tending to the body, which would include some type of body work like massage therapy or chiropractic work.
“The second [day], I really want it to be about reflecting. What I’ve mentioned time and time again, about how this specific group has benefited the Bay Area... I want to reflect on that and all of us to acknowledge that and give each other our flowers while we’re here,” she says.
The last day would be utilized for planning. She looks forward to this being an opportunity for Black leaders to reflect on all of the small tasks they normally take on and how that work can be better divied up. “We’re really in a cool, awesome time right now as much as the world is messed up,” she says. “There’s a lot of people in the world that understand how they can better support Black folks and marginalized communities. So who are the different people rallied around each leader that they’re not really tapping into?”
“We’re really in a cool, awesome time right now as much as the world is messed up…There’s a lot of people in the world that understand how they can better support Black folks and marginalized communities. So who are the different people rallied around each leader that they’re not really tapping into?”
Her hope is that each leader walks away committed to better communicating with their network and implementing practices to avoid burnout.
“The focus is that leaders leave with tools like, ‘I need to check in with myself more often, make sure I’m resting, make sure it's restorative, make sure I’m utilizing my community properly. To get these things that I was put on this planet to do done.’”
Leighton-Armah also dreams of a future retreat outside of the United States where different cohorts can experience the Caribbean or Ghana. “I’d love to be able to take Black folks to other places to see just how Black people live in other parts of the world and other communities,” she muses. And future cohorts will also be dedicated to different groups, such as Black men, emerging teens and youth, as well as gender-nonconforming folks.
The price tag she’s currently envisioning for an inaugural California retreat is $50,000 minimum. And she’s calling on Bay Area businesses, from tech to fashion to culture to everything in between, to financially invest in the Bay Area Black Leaders who have benefited them, their employees, and the region in general.
Listening to her speak, one hears a perfect balance of deep emotion (“I’ve constantly just watched that when Black people decide to do something, how that benefits everybody,” she states, allowing her voice to break for a moment) and stoic pragmatism (“I’m realizing that in meeting with people who have done retreats before and done venture capitalism before that this is going to take a lot of money.”) But the thread throughout the conversation is drive and ambition. Leighton-Armah has a vision for how these retreats will be most effective and have the greatest impact. Part of that includes providing cohort members with a stipend.
“I want to treat it the same way as when some CEO and their executive team go on a retreat….They’re paid for their time, they’re working at a specific place. I would love to pay these leaders for their time. I want us to get a better perspective on how our rest and reflection happens. How does it happen? It happens from valuing yourself.”