Lisa Ndembu Lumeya's Myers Law Scholarship Acceptance Speech
April 6, 2019
Thank you to WCL and the Myers Society for this incredible award and opportunity that comes with it. I really didn’t start to understand how huge this award was until Mr. Randall Sawyer called me to ask how I felt, and my family told me they were coming all the way from California for this dinner, so it has been a process.
I want to start by sharing one of my favorite poems with you by a womyn named Jasmin Kaur and it goes like this, “scream, so that one day 100 years from now another sister will not have to dry her tears wondering where in history she lost her voice.” I wanted to share this poem not only because it so eloquently sums up part of the reason I am standing before you today, but because it also happens to pair quite nicely with WCL’s slogan of "Champion[ing] What Matters."
I’m Congolese and Swedish but grew up in the U.S. I like to think that I got my views of the world and HR ideals from Sweden, my heart for community from Congo, and my work ethic toward combining the two from America. American University, both intentionally and unintentionally, has taught me to “scream” as Jasmin Kaur says. Through interactions with professors, uncomfortable situations, rigorous courses, enriching opportunities, and support as demonstrated through scholarships like the one I am receiving today, WCL has empowered me and taught me how important it is that I dare to step into spaces where I don’t see many who look like myself. It has refined my audacity to demand better for the communities we’re failing into increasingly articulate career goals and given me the tools I need to not just take a seat at the table, but hopefully one day get my own table and fill it with other underrepresented voices.
When I was asked to speak tonight, I was told to share a little bit about myself and where I’m going. Well my upbringing was grounded in ubuntu which for those of you who are unaware, means I am because we are, so it is actually impossible for me to say anything about myself without mentioning my family, a very small percentage of which is represented here today.
My mother, Christina Lumeya, was born in a small Swedish town and constantly broke the mold of a very homogenous society. She eventually moved to Central African Republic as a missionary after touring in an all-female jazz band and getting her masters. When I asked her if it felt difficult, always being so different, she said no, all she feels is proud. My dad, Nzash Lumeya, a pastor, was born in a small Congolese town and was selected on scholarship to pursue his masters in France then PhD in Southern CA. My father has never shown any bitterness from the gross inequalities he’s experienced in this world and when I ask him how he manages to convince so many random groups of people to visit and give to Congo he says, the key is prioritizing “people over programs because without people, there can be no programs.” Together, him and my mother were willing to go past their comfort zones whenever doing so held the promise of potentially making life a little bit better for someone else.
Eventually, we ended up in California for my sisters' and my education. Muhawu Lumeya, the eldest, works in international development and spends countless hours engaging in election training democracy work. She constantly goes out of her way to ensure the community she’s serving is at the center of every decision she makes. I see the stress this puts on her, always being the one to second guess whether policies are actually working. But every day she wakes up and Muhawu does it again, because it matters. Ikuma Lumeya, the sister who comes next, is a fifth-grade teacher. Not just any fifth-grade teacher, she specialized her higher education around better more efficient teaching practices for students of color and students in lower socioeconomic status, and of course the intersection between the two. I see how much of a toll this work takes on her, always being the one pushing other teachers to be uncomfortable. But every day she wakes up and Ikuma does it again, because it matters.
“I’m being trained to Champion What Matters. It’s never been about being a voice for the voiceless because everyone has their own voice. It’s about using the knowledge and platforms I’ll have access to, to empower underserved communities with the tools they need to make their own voices heard.”
Lisa Ndembu Lumeya
Four masters and a PhD, for what? To serve others. It was never a surprise to me that I’d end up pursuing a public interest career in fact, using higher education as a tool to do so is the only thing that really felt natural. I grew up understanding that this kind of career would be emotionally taxing, financially challenging, and filled with frustrations of things beyond one person’s control. I also grew up knowing how privileged my goals are.
As someone who graduated from a high school with a 12% college readiness rate, 12%, I had plenty of people along the way who told me my dreams were a little unrealistic. There was my high school counselor who told me not to even try to leave Fresno, let alone the state of California, because that wasn’t really “in the cards” for kids from Roosevelt. There was the college counselor who told me to consider whether I could actually handle law school when I asked to drop a class because I was working three part time jobs to afford an unpaid internship which would allow me to compete with my fellow classmates. And then there are all the well-meaning people who politely nod but clearly think I’m delusional when I say I’m pursuing a dual JD, one here and one in France, want to clerk for a judge, become a prosecutor pushing for criminal justice reform (thank you Professor Davis), then prosecute war crimes internationally, and eventually bring all these experiences to a position helping to shape more efficient and culturally competent international human rights policies.
Doubts, whether external or internal, have never stopped me from continuing to strive, because no matter how close I may be to giving up, I have a rock-solid support system who quite literally pushes me to keep going. Because I’ve been blessed with so many opportunities not accessible to most people who come from neighborhoods like mine, because I have a vision of something better than this for those who come after me, and because I’m being trained to Champion What Matters. It’s never been about being a voice for the voiceless because everyone has their own voice. It’s about using the knowledge and platforms I’ll have access to, to empower underserved communities with the tools they need to make their own voices heard.
People ask me all the time how I’ll pay my loans and put food on the table when I’m living off of idealistic dreams, and I don’t really have an answer to that. But then, awards like this one come around and I feel overwhelmed. I came to AU as an undergrad because of WCL and because I support the mission it stands for, so not be dramatic but it’s honestly surreal and slightly terrifying to receive this award tonight and know that WCL…WCL supports my mission too.
I would have never made it past that first hairy hand case in contracts without the encouragement of my friends and family, and they do say it takes a village so: Mamma, Papa, Tonton Fidele, Aunt Leah Renee, ya Ikuma, ya Seya, Dan, Leah, Maya, Helina, Jasmine, and ya Muhawu thank you and congratulations because this is your scholarship too. Thank you to the Myers Society, I will forever be grateful to you.