My profession is under attack. As the Harvard Business Review notes, “Dismantling DEI has become a core mission of the conservative political movement.” Over the past few years, I’ve felt the weight of this targeting, but the recent election has intensified the uncertainty among those of us in the diversity, equity, and inclusion field. Many are grappling with what this shift means for our work and our futures. I am not immune to this anxiety and like my peers, I find myself questioning the path ahead.

I’ve been wrestling with practical concerns—“Will there be enough work to support my family?”—as well as more existential ones—“Should DEI have been a profession in the first place?” I’ve joined post-election spaces held for DEI professionals and engaged in numerous conversations with colleagues and mentors as we all wrap our heads around what this administration may bring.

Some colleagues have already pivoted, rebranding their work outside the DEI framework. For many, this shift is about safety; prominent voices in our field have faced doxing and threats of violence. For others, it’s a matter of survival, as organizations slash DEI departments and budgets. These colleagues argue that while they no longer use the language of DEI, they’re still working to transform cultures and systems, albeit without centering racism and oppression in their messaging.

Others are doubling down, reaffirming their commitment to anti-racism and anti-oppression. They believe the election results and the political landscape indicate an even more urgent need for this work. “Hiding,” they say, gives the opposition power, “do not obey before we need to,” they urge. Several mentors have expressed hope, predicting a resurgence in demand for DEI and anti-racism work in the coming years.

Within the DEI community, some feel grief-stricken and terrified, others enraged, and still others resolute: “We survived Trump before; we will survive him again.” Elders in the work remind me of history’s lessons—that our ancestors endured and overcame even greater challenges. The work of liberation is a tireless one, they say. 

Yet, I feel that there’s a pervasive sense that many of us are bracing for survival rather than striving to thrive in the years ahead. Well, except for on social media, where I’m now being encouraged as a “strong Black woman” to rest, lay down the battle axe, and focus on self-care. The framing here is that we’ve been betrayed by our fellow Americans, and they don’t deserve our labor anymore. But what if the work—the battle itself—is part of how I care for myself and others? What if speaking out, taking action, and fighting for justice is not just a calling but a source of strength?

So, after much processing, here is where I have landed on this for myself. I am staying in the work, doubling down on the importance of naming and fighting oppression. However, I’m seeking opportunities that offer more consistent and predictable compensation because I have a daughter to raise, and I see financial security in the years ahead as a critical piece of self-care if you can find it. In the meantime, I am urging everyone to start preparing for what lies ahead. It’s similar to what we do here in Florida when there’s a hurricane warning: we secure the yard, board up the windows, brace for the worst, and hold our loved ones close while hoping the storm is less intense than predicted.