I have a fairly ferocious temper that I've spent most of my life learning to channel. Anger is an energy and I can let it consume me, or I can redirect it into change.

As a result, my frequent reaction now to things is "how can I fix it."

I am having a difficult time this go around because all of the steps that I can think of are things that we actually did.

The Nebula Awards team spent three hours teaching the Hugo team everything we had learned. They handed over all of the documentation.

The Nebs team shared the PowerPoint training presentations, the email templates, and the software solutions that we had used. They included the roles that needed to be hired vs. volunteers and contact information for each.

They offered to be available for follow-up calls or emails.

No one from the Nebs team heard anything after that initial meeting.

When GRRM asked me to present a Hugo, I was excited and honored. I love the Hugos -- I mean, LOOK AT THE GLORIOUS BALLOT -- and the way that reading list reflects the SFF community.

It's not a perfect community, but the anger and outrage are because we want to be better.

We want to be a better community than we are.

When we were working on the Nebs, we had a conversation about how we were glad we were going first, so that our mistakes would be understandable.

We thought people would build on what we'd learned.

That's how you improve. Critical examination of mistakes and finding ways to correct them.

So when I'm faced with a series of *choices,* I see, not mistakes, but failures. This isn't a single failure. This is a large systemic failure.

This is a failure to serve the very people that should have been lifted up.

And let me be clear, I'm also a part of this systemic failure. I knew that there were problems going in, because as a presenter, I was given GRRM's lead-in to my category.

I saw the hat, and the shirt, and the content. I heard him say "Science Fiction Writers..." instead of "Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers..." and thought, "I should ask him to re-record."

And I didn't. Because I didn't want to be difficult.

I was afraid that I might piss him off. I was afraid that I might piss off the ConComm and that word would go through the SMoF community that I was a problem and then I wouldn't get to do the shiny things.

I was wrong.

I had the power and clout to push back and I didn't. Why would a finalist or an early career writer think that it was safe to push back if I didn't?

Why should people who are already shoved in the margins be the ones who keep having to do the work?

Granted, I also don't have any confidence that it would have made a difference, because as previously noted, they had the tools.

There were multiple conversations about the lack of diversity leading up to this. Nothing was a surprise.

The thing that makes me so angry, is that this was all avoidable and a series of systemic *choices* led directly to where we are now.

So how do we fix this?

By changing whose voice we prioritize. You're listening to me because I'm white, and fancy, & my anger is "civil."

Listen to other voices, like @GeekMelange, @jyneonyang, @jennbrissett, and pay attention to who they lift up.

When you need to staff something, look past the usual suspects to people who think they aren't welcome. Empower them to make changes.

This anger is power. Let's use it.

But first, you have to decide the answer to a single question. Who are you prioritizing?