©2019 by Mikayla Lytton. Photos by Mikayla and Kali Boehle-Silva.

I am white, class privileged, trans and queer, living in Washington, DC, which has been inhabited for centuries by the Nacotchtank people of the Piscataway Indian Nation. My education in racial and social justice comes primarily from organizing with the DC chapter of SURJ (Showing Up for Racial Justice) DC, which primarily organizes white people in the movement for racial justice. I've also benefitted tremendously from transformative personal relationships and self-education.

Photo by Rafael Woldeab.

It's those relationships that have brought me to a deep commitment to supporting others in their journeys towards understanding and dismantling systemic power and oppression. It is only through the wisdom and generosity of others that I have come to understand -- and began to heal from -- white supremacy and heteropatriarchy. And, I'm committed to passing on the gifts of time, energy, and care to others.

My professional experience spans the corporate world (doing project management across research, technical, and product teams for a financial research firm); the governmental (supporting organizational turnaround of a small government agency); nonprofit (primarily facilitation, coaching, and project management); to the grassroots (collaboratively developing and growing a volunteer-run organization). If you are very detail-oriented, or find résumés compelling, or love knowing lots of facts about a person, you can check out my résumé and consulting bio here.


Some less formal/professional stuff about me: In my communities, self-liberation is a necessary component of collective liberation, and I actively invest in my healing and decolonization. I have a set of core values that don't make any sense (beach umbrella, full moon, clicking) but also often refer to my Quaker tenets of peace, integrity, simplicity, equity, community, and stewardship. I have three nephews, two of whom I get to see frequently. It is often their laughter that I turn to as a "reservoir of hope" (a term I learned from Angela Davis) when I feel most despairing, and it is often my pain in seeing their growing inoculation to the violence of the world that recommits me to the work.