The sun rose on Monday, June 1, but there was still a darkness throughout Southern California as we saw the aftermath of history playing out in the streets of our nation.

None of us can turn a blind eye to the images of an unarmed and subdued George Floyd killed at the hands of a police officer who was sworn to protect. We cannot turn a blind eye to those engaged in peaceful protest, pleading for equality and justice in communities across our country. Nor can we ignore the coverage this weekend of the civil unrest and the destruction of countless businesses.

As an African American woman, I’ve dealt with feelings of despair as we continue to have discussions about systemic racism. And over the continued fight to have equal protection under the law. There is no joy in being on the front lines of this fight. There is no pleasure in being forced to protest and defend. There is no dignity in pretending that divisions do not exist.

As a CEO, on Monday I started the day by sending an email to the entire Metrolink team addressing the weekend events and reminding them that our agency provides resources through an Employee Assistance Program where they can get free assistance. I encouraged our team to not suffer in silence and to talk if they needed to. That afternoon, talk is just what they did.

But let me provide some context.  Since the COVID-19 stay-at-home orders were instituted in March, I have regularly communicated directly with all Metrolink employees. Initially through daily emails, and in the past month, three times a week via virtual afternoon coffee breaks.  While most employees are telecommunicating to protect against the spread of the coronavirus, we’ve created a new culture of connection. We’ve gotten used to discussing our fears, and our ideas for post-pandemic recovery efforts in lively Q&A sessions. And we’ve gotten used to learning about each other as people – as we all seek humanity.

Monday’s coffee break was different. With no agenda, I simply asked, “Is there anything you’d like to share?” What followed was an agency-wide discussion that was authentic and honest. It was filled with emotion and empathy. I cried. I was not alone. I was honored that our employees – Black, Latino, White, Asian; Millennials, Gen Xers, Boomers, and Gen Z – felt safe enough to share their feelings and their vulnerability. They spoke. We listened, and we learned.

One employee shared how sad these events make him feel. He vividly talked about being afraid as a Black teenager when he was stopped by the police and was guided by his father’s standing advice to do nothing and obey whatever the officer said so he could make it home. His voice quivered as he told the story. Next, a White man, a friend and colleague of the first man, shared that it is hard for him to fathom that experience, because he was raised to treat everyone with dignity, but he held space for the first man’s experience and thanked him for sharing. Then a woman shared that hearing the emotion in the first man’s story was the most impactful way she has heard those words expressed in her life.