Acknowledging who our people are illuminates why we do the things we do, work the way we work, and say the things we say.  The death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg last week brought on media coverage that I found to be deeply caring, humane, and community-oriented. In this polarized, "alternative facts" environment, I found the media's tone of coverage hopeful and refreshing. So much so that it renewed big questions of community for me, like:

• "Who am I in relationship with?"
• "Who are my people?"
• "How can I name and forward my collective as RBG so clearly did?"

It also made me wonder, if we covered black lives killed at the hands of cops in the same way we cover larger than life figures like RBG and John Lewis, what would we emphasize? The profound impact they had on their church? At their job? With their kids? Who their people were? What made them special? What made them human? And would we be careful not to center and incessantly focus on a racist police person who decided to become their judge, jury, and executioner?

But I digress...

Of course, we all know RBG's personal positive impact is undeniable and history-making and obviously worthy of continued likening to Thurgood Marshall. But even more striking to me is that, RBG's positive impact reverberates throughout concentric circles of humanity that appear to be equally important to those who knew her best like colleagues and clerks all the way to the mother's of little girls who dressed up like RBG for Halloween. Even though those mothers will never know her personally they identify viscerally with her life's work and personal story.

RBG's life shows that no matter if you're in the halls of power in your home, the halls of power in your local community, or the halls of power in our federal government, seeing yourself as a part of an important community collective only heightens your positive impact-- stretching your words and deeds like title waves forward into the future of humanity. And although my name may not ever be likened to the great Biggie Smalls (Ginsburg earned the moniker Notorious RBG from a NYU Law Student), I too hope my personal legacy to be one of the notorious ambassadors of collective good to my dear friends, family, and colleagues.

Yes, we have lost icons of our community this summer, losing RBG within weeks of losing civil rights icon John Lewis.  But in their spirit, I plan to take action. So here is what I plan to do in this moment. I plan to continue to challenge our current American context where everything is defined by facades of individualism and "you get yours, cause imma get mine" culture and at the same time, a strange distorted narrative of religious moral nationalism. I intend to broadly share whatever positive impacts I can accrue and collectively grieve and learn from our collective failures. I intend to acknowledge the humanity of my colleagues first and never prioritize "work productivity" over community well-being.

I believe that if we, the beloved community, double down on our collective commitment to our communities, the Notorious RBG's work will be recognized now in this moment and we will win the future through our movements, our organizations, our families, and do so while with justice that reverberates around the world.