Acts of Wellness: Franklin Ellis

My name is Franklin Ellis. I am currently the Assistant Director of Multicultural Student Services at Coastal Carolina University, located in Conway, South Carolina.

In my position, I provide leadership and coordination for all current diversity programs, as well as develop new initiatives for increasing cultural awareness — helping students gain cultural sensitivity, develop an understanding of inclusion, work toward oppression reduction, and engage with social justice.

Some of my most salient identities: I am a person of melanated status — a very proud and happy Black, or African-American, man. I am gay. I am a Santería Vodoun practitioner. I am dyslexic. I am upper middle class. I am a doctor. I am a brother, an uncle, a son, and a southerner. These are the things that make up who I am and what matters most in my life.
I came into this study feeling tired as hell. Exhausted in mind, body, and spirit from having to fight every day — from having to navigate systems of injustice and oppression in ways that still allow me to move forward in life. Constantly picking and choosing which battles to fight, which to leave alone, and how to support others in their battles without getting drawn in myself.

I came in hyper-attentive to everything happening around me, perpetually evaluating what was or wasn’t rooted in racism. I came in numb — having witnessed so many injustices, so many people dying and being killed — having had to deaden myself to much of what that brought up, because staying fully present to all of it made it harder to get through my days.
I also came into this study with hope. Hope that voices would finally be heard. That this might be a turning point for those who read it, and that this work would be a meaningful tool for change.

What I’ve learned most about myself is that I have reserves that are limitless. I tap into them daily. Through the exhaustion of mind, body, and spirit, it can be genuinely hard to keep going — but I keep finding that I can. I don’t fully know where it comes from or how I keep drawing on it, but those reserves are real. They allow me to continue to serve, to fight injustice, to advocate for those who cannot speak for themselves, and to stand alongside those who choose to speak for themselves.

One lesson that has stayed with me since participating in this study is that what we are facing is real. This fatigue — social justice fatigue — is real. The issues we navigate every day are real. And what I’ve come to understand is that the systems, and those who run them, will gaslight you every single day. They will do everything in their power to keep you from being fully awake to what is actually happening — and they will even get you to question yourself. What I’ve learned is this: when my gut speaks, I listen. I don’t question it.

The lesson I would encourage others to consider is this: we do not have to rely on those in power in order to survive. The most powerful way to deconstruct these systems is to stop feeding into them — to stop being part of them — and to begin building our own systems and our own structures.

I would also say: it is okay to tap out every now and then. It is okay to shift how much you are fighting, or how you are fighting, in order to preserve yourself.