Why Your Anti-Oppressive Practice Feels Stuck (And What To Do About It)

Opening: You've read the books. You've taken the trainings. You know the language of cultural humility, intersectionality, and decolonization.

So why do you still freeze when a client brings up race?

Why does your body tighten when you're worried about getting it wrong?

Why does it feel like there's a gap between what you know and how you show up?

The Limits of Cognitive Learning

It is easy to think that knowing the “right” words is enough or knowing the theories that we learned in our post secondary education is enough. But anti-oppressive practice isn’t just about information or theoretical frameworks—it’s about embodiment.

Cognitive learning can help us identify the barriers of systemic oppression, but understanding concepts like white supremacy or settler colonialism on an intellectual level rarely translates to ease and authenticity in the room. The neural patterns wired into our bodies—through upbringing, media, and lived experience—persist beneath conscious awareness.

When challenging topics come up with clients, our bodies often default to survival  strategies: freeze, fawn, or flight. These are not intellectual choices but nervous system responses to discomfort, uncertainty, or shame.

Settler Colonialism and the Nervous System

Settler colonialism is not simply a historical event; it’s a system that lives and breathes in our daily lives and, more importantly, within our bodies.

For many, it shows up in the form of chronic hypervigilance—always scanning for mistakes or subtle cues that indicate inclusion or exclusion.

It can manifest as a need for control: “If I say everything perfectly, I can’t be called out.” Or as dissociation: “I’ll just fade into neutrality to avoid conflict.”

These embodied responses are survival strategies shaped by generations of collective trauma and adaptation.
Understanding this helps us recognize why good intentions and knowledge sometimes aren’t enough to move us into embodied solidarity or relational presence.

Introducing Somatic Work to help Unsettle 

Somatic work bridges the chasm between what our minds know and how our bodies (and relationships) respond.

It’s about reconnecting with our bodies, noticing where oppression, shame, or fear show up, and cultivating gentle, grounded practices for returning to ourselves.

For example, learning to notice when your chest tightens or when you hold your breath during difficult conversations, and meeting those sensations with curiosity instead of judgment, is a decolonial act.

Decolonial somatics isn’t just about self-regulation—it’s an invitation to show up more fully, build honest relationships, and co-create safety with clients.

A Personal Story

Just recently, I was working with a client who gently pointed out a micro aggression I made. Though I knew, in theory, how to “repair” such ruptures, I still froze. My heart pounded and my mouth went dry. For a moment, my intellect offered no script—I could only feel the discomfort in my body. And it’s still uncomfortable to notice the discomfort and sit with instead of trying to move past it. 

With time, I have learned (and am constantly reminded) to notice these sensations as signals, not threats. Instead of detaching or defending, I practiced grounding myself, softening my body, and listening openly. This allowed space for both accountability and deeper connection with the client—a process far more transformative than any textbook could teach.

The work of decolonizing your practice doesn't happen in your mind alone. It happens in your body, in relationship, and in community. And that's where we begin.