It’s not every day you meet a personal hero, but this weekend, I did. Loretta Ross—activist, teacher, author, and a guiding voice in “calling in” rather than “calling out”—came to Peterborough to speak about her book. I first encountered her on a TED Radio Hour episode, her words a balm to the questions I was wrestling with of how to do accountability differently. I listened to everything I could find. Her approach to accountability through compassion felt like the antidote I’d been seeking in a world so quick to scorn and punish.
Hearing her speak in person was no less powerful. Loretta calls us to build bridges, not sit in silos of virtue. She also acknowledges that unresolved trauma often blocks our capacity for compassionate accountability. Her step by step guide to calling in is a road map to taking fractals of hope into the world of social change.
Start with the self- The very foundation of fractals of hope. She says “the first thing to do is put yourself on pause. Your heart may be beating fast, and you may experience a feeling of danger. But if we have been working on ourselves, we can recognize what's happening and we can recognize that there is a choice standing between our emotions and our actions.”
Calibrate the conflict- Find the curiosity that complicates the conflict. What is at stake here? Is the situation safe enough to move forward? What lies below the surface of this conflict?
Lead with love- She offers simple prompts like “I know you, and I know you’re a kind person. But this phrase felt off when I heard you say it.” She talks about creating the cognitive dissonance that makes the actions of the person incongruous with the values this person might hold about themselves.
Accepting the reaction and reaching resolution- True change is hard and it takes time–longer than a single conversation. A conversation gets a lot easier–for all parties–if it’s running on an obvious agenda of empathy and respect. Calling in is less thrilling than the condemnation that is created when you call people out, but the change is stronger and builds rather than destroys.
It sounds simple. It’s not. I thought about my work here, and the work that is required to keep the autonomic nervous system from running the show. I know firsthand how painful being called out can be—especially by someone you care about.
That truth hit home later in the week. I was cooking crepes for dinner, phone on the counter beside me. I saw it ping and I opened an unkind and critical email from someone I’ve worked hard to build a relationship with. My body reacted instantly: shaking hands, dry throat, a pounding heart. Hurt flooded in, quickly followed by anger. How dare they? My mind raced with retorts and public defenses. I wanted to strike back. In fact, I stayed there for a good while composing messages of retort in my head, imagining who I might cc to expose this person.
Then I remembered Loretta’s words. The great irony! Here I was creating an imaginary call out when I still had her book sitting on my counter. Heart racing, I sat down and opened her book. Her reminder: real change requires coalition, not division. Scorn may feel powerful, but it fractures movements and isolates us. Reading her words, I felt a familiar ache—this wasn’t just about the email. It tapped into old wounds, moments when people with power had cut me down, leaving me feeling small and defenseless. Shaming, I realized, is the weapon of the powerless, and eventually turns into deep resentment.
Breathing deeply, I paused to feel the activation in my body. Was I truly in danger? What did my best self want to do? I recognized the young part of me that just wanted to feel safe, and I felt compassion for her. I could also see that this email—though hurtful—likely came from the sender’s own pain. We are, as Loretta might say, problematic allies: aligned on many things but snagged on our differences. It’s those slivers of disagreement that can feel the most threatening, especially when reputation feels at stake.
Yet reputation is built on many actions, not one email exchange. Retaliation wouldn’t serve my values or the community I care about. Calling them out would have been self-serving, a fleeting relief that undermined my larger intention: connection and coalition. Loretta’s work reminds me that before calling anyone in, I must first call myself in—tending to my emotions and grounding in my purpose.
Loretta says:
All of us who wish to serve the human rights movement must attend to our own healing. We should not let our triggers betray our values. Call-out culture turns potential partners into competitors for justice, distracting us with moral high ground battles that divide rather than unite.
So, where does that leave me? Breathing. Reflecting. Grateful for the real-time example of this week's theme of resentment and compassion. Today I am choosing compassion—for myself, for them, for the messy work of being human together. I plan to reach out to them, when I’m ready, without expectation. In the meantime, I’ve signed up for Loretta’s online course, eager to walk a longer journey with her wisdom.
Thanks, as always, for being with me through this wild journey of life! If you’re curious about her work, I’d love for you to join me there too—whether it’s through her book, a podcast, or the class.
These practices of awareness, acceptance, and space are how we move beyond reactivity and step into real power, not power over but power with, the kind that can transform not just ourselves, but our world.
Gratefully,
Hannah B
