I'm a sensitive soul. And that's ok.

It is pretty rare that a LinkedIn post causes me to laugh out loud. But that’s what I did when an associate shared a post from one of what I call my personal "Group of Seven" (GO7). My personal GO7 received?this moniker for the artistry with which they’ve maligned me, the manner in which they hold each other up and the fact they started as seven individuals.

For those unfamiliar with the original Group of Seven, according to the Canadian Encyclopedia they were a group of talented Canadian painters, who were “drawn together by a common sense of frustration with the conservative quality of most Canadian art. They began meeting as a kind of mutual support group…”

We rarely talk about the exclusivity of the original Group of Seven. How it must have felt to be an artist at that time and not included. By the way, Emily Carr was not a member – gender challenges I suppose. The members were all White men. They helped each other. Critiqued each other’s work. And I’d guess, as they sat around the table at Toronto’s Arts & Letters Club – the work of others. It was a clique. They excluded far more than they included. And frankly, not much has changed.

I’ve long since disconnected from, blocked or been blocked by those in my personal GO7. One publicly named and shamed me calling me a White Feminist. Others had issues with my book. And, while this is not an exhaustive list, I’ll provide a few examples of their concerns.

1.????I failed to ask permission to cite previously published work – something I didn’t understand I needed to do. Legally – I didn’t need to ask -- but given that several of those I cited were folks I was connected to on LinkedIn, and at least one who had not wanted to be interviewed for the book initially, I should have asked. Lesson learned.

2.????I shared and uplifted the work of Black authors without permission. It was experienced by these authors as extractive, exploitative and an attempt to make myself look good at their expense. Lesson learned. ?

3.????Some didn’t like the design of my book cover. That took me by surprise as the design related to my lived experience and connected to stories I share in the book. I’ve never heard directly what the concerns were. It wasn’t until I picked up @Elizabeth (Dori) Tunstall's book Decolonizing Design, that it started to make sense. I’m still learning and unlearning around this and so many other things. Tunstall writes, “You cannot decolonize your work unless you are in community dialogue with those who can hold you accountable for the approach and impact of your work.” While I thought I was in dialogue and being held accountable through an advisory committee for the book, this was not enough. ?

4.????Another, though not part of the original GO7,took offence to me publicly having the audacity to share that I felt excluded from a project in which I would have liked to be included. New authors in the same year. Same publisher. I didn’t learn a lesson from this one except that a clique is a clique is a clique.

To be clear, I’ve made more mistakes than the ones listed. I once bullied someone online. I could get into my “why”, but it doesn’t matter. Though I did not name and shame, if you knew, you knew. It was stupid. It was impulsive. It was wrong. I took the post down. I apologized. The person I bullied chose not to accept the apology. Fair enough. ?

Back to my morning belly laugh. The way in which all of these stories, and others, unfolded was painful. Not just for those I hurt, but for those who hurt me. And my pain matters too. It isn't about centering my experience, it is about recognizing that my experience exists too.

In spite of my best efforts, there was no room for dialogue. No interest in a conversation. People who I thought I knew chose to write me off. Folks I’d personally and publicly supported retreated.?Some said downright mean things both publicly and privately. I was named and shamed on social media. I was shunned. I received angry emails and when I asked if we could talk – silence.

So, when one of my personal GO7 writes a post about how important it is that we learn to get along even when we don’t agree, I have to laugh. This person's email broke my heart, and yes, I let him know. When I asked to meet or speak on the phone, he responded with silence.

Some folks have shared their experiences of conversations that happen “about me without me.” I know the GO7 has grown exponentially. I’ve watched folks drop away or cool off. Disconnect for no apparent reason. If they are people I actually know, I reach out and hope they will have a conversation with me. Sometimes it turns out it isn't about me. (Imagine that!!) More often than not, they've chosen to take a side in a story of which they know only a small part.

My neurodivergence presents with Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria, so it takes a lot for me to “get over it” as my family and friends encourage me to do.?So, to the GO7 member who gave me my belly-laugh this morning, if you feel like walking the talk, you know how to reach me. If you actually take the time to get to know me, you might discover we agree on far more than we disagree. Regardless, we should be trying to get along, right? Peace out.

P.S. You can learn more about my book Tarnished: Let's rethink, reimagine and co-create a new social impact space here.