Julia Erdkamp

07/02/2026

06/10/2026

𝗠𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 “𝗔𝗻𝗴𝗿𝘆 𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗪𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻” 𝗺𝘆𝘁𝗵

It is interesting how unaware some people are of the ways they participate in stereotypes and prejudice.

One of the most harmful for me personally is the stereotype of the “angry Black woman,” which has historically been used to degrade, dismiss, and muzzle Black women.

But I have also been thinking more deeply about one of the ways this stereotype shows up in modern, professional spaces.

𝙄𝙩 𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 “𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚.”

Not substance.

Not accuracy.

Not professionalism.

Tone.

To be clear, tone matters. Communication matters. Leadership presence matters.

But when “tone” becomes the recurring critique only after a Black woman is clear, firm, direct, or unwilling to soften the truth for someone else’s comfort, it becomes something else.

It becomes coded.

Black women’s intellect is read as arrogance.

Black women’s resolve is read as threatening.

Black women’s clarity is read as harsh.

Black women’s boundaries are read as attitude.

Black women’s refusal to shrink is read as aggression.

It is exhausting.

Because the burden is not just to be competent. The burden is to be competent in a way that feels non-threatening to others.

To communicate truth, but not too directly.

To lead, but not too boldly.

To challenge, but not too confidently.

To be strong, but not in a way that makes anyone uncomfortable.

That is not feedback. That is policing.

That is why tone can be a coded microaggression.

It shifts the focus away from what was said, what was done, or what needs to be addressed, and places the burden on the Black woman’s perceived delivery.

A paper that resonated with me is Aggressive Encounters & White Fragility: Deconstructing the Trope of the Angry Black Woman.

One excerpt captures the harm well:

“...this trope is often invoked in aggressive encounters to deflect attention from the aggressor and to project blame onto the target.”

That is the part many people miss.

The label does not have to be spoken out loud to be operating.

Sometimes it sounds like:

“Your tone was concerning.”

“She came across as aggressive.”

“She is hard to work with.”

“She needs to be more approachable.”

“She is not collaborative.”

And sometimes, those words are not neutral. Sometimes they are doing the work of a stereotype without naming it.

While we continue to talk about systemic racism, workplace equity, leadership, and psychological safety, we also have to dismantle the coded language that allows bias to hide in plain sight.

𝗕𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗮𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲𝘁𝘆.

We should not have to dilute our clarity to be seen as kind.

And we should not have to make ourselves smaller to make others more comfortable.

03/25/2026

Thank you to the Mayor and my community for the recognition.

03/18/2026

I am deeply honored to be named a 2026 Woman of Distinction by the City of Sacramento.
As a proud daughter of South Sacramento, this is a deeply meaningful moment. I was raised by a strong single mother who taught me to believe in my own strength and purpose long before the world ever recognized it. Growing up in South Sac gave me its own kind of education—a school of hard knocks that taught me resilience, sharpened my vision, and instilled a commitment to serve.

Sacramento is more than just my hometown; it’s the community that helped shape who I am today. To be recognized by the city that has played such a vital role in my journey is humbling and inspiring.

I am grateful for the opportunity to continue making an impact alongside so many dedicated leaders.

Thank you to Mayor Kevin McCarty for this incredible honor. I can’t wait to celebrate with my community on March 23.

03/08/2026

Happy International Women's Day.

For a long time, the rallying cry was "Yes We Can." It was a necessary phrase to prove capability, break through barriers, and demand a seat at the table. But as I look around at the incredible women leading in civic technology, shaping public policy, and driving massive systemic change, I realize the conversation has shifted.

The modern rallying cry is "Yes We Are."

We ARE building systems that serve our communities better.

We ARE stepping into executive roles and redefining what effective leadership looks like.

We ARE done waiting for permission and have already started doing the heavy lifting.

To the women transforming our public sectors, innovating for the future, and lifting each other up along the way: I see you. The impact you make every single day is undeniable.

Let us keep building.

12/25/2025

⭐️𝗔𝗱𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 — 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝗗𝗮𝘆⭐️

We have walked through these weeks of waiting together, holding our hopes in the quiet of Advent. And now, here we are. The morning has come, and with it, a truth I’ve been holding close to my heart:

𝙇𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙨.

It doesn’t usually crash in.
It gently finds its way through the cracks...often when we least expect it.

I’ve been thinking about how that light meets us in the messy, middle parts of real life.
In the complexities of our families.
In the weight of careers that ask so much of us.
In the unanswered questions we carry into today.
In seasons that didn’t turn out quite the way we imagined they would.

Sometimes the light doesn’t immediately fix the hard things.
Sometimes, it simply sits with us in them.

To me, that is the most comforting part of the Christmas story.
We talk about 𝗘𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗹, "𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘂𝘀".
And I’m realizing more and more that this doesn’t mean God waits for us to “get it right” or feel settled.
It means God is right here...in the middle of our ordinary, unfinished, beautifully human lives.

I’ve seen that light show up for me in quiet ways this year:

In sudden strength when I felt I had nothing left to give.
In clarity that helped me take just the next right step.
In renewal that breathed life back into weary places.
In peace that didn’t erase my challenges, but gently held me through them.

If you’re feeling tired today...
if the road ahead feels uncertain..
if you’re holding joy and grief in the same hand...
please know this:

𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲.𝗟𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘁𝗼𝗼.

As we look toward the New Year, this is my heartbeat for you:

May you feel strengthened where you’ve grown weary.
May clarity meet you where things have felt blurry.
May renewal come after all you’ve carried this year.
And may a soft, steady peace settle around you in the ways you need most.

As I sit with the wonder of today, I find myself asking:
Where has the light met me when I wasn’t even looking for it?

Christmas is a beautiful reminder that we don’t walk this path by ourselves.
We never were.
𝙂𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙪𝙨... 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚.

Merry Christmas 🤍

12/21/2025

⭐️𝗔𝗱𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 — 𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝟰 (𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲)⭐️

"When love leads, everything changes."

As we enter this final stretch of Advent, I’ve been sitting with what Scripture says about love...not as an idea, but as a way of being.

𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵.
𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥.
𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘷𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘴𝘵.
𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥.
𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴.
𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.
𝘐𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴.
And Scripture reminds me that 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

That kind of love is powerful. Not because it demands attention, but because it endures.

As I prepare my heart for the coming of Jesus, I’m preparing for love personified. A love that chose humility over status, presence over power, and sacrifice over self-preservation.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦.

It invites me to slow down.
To soften where I’ve grown guarded.
To practice patience in places where I’ve grown tired.
To choose kindness even when it costs me something.
To give love that remains generous, even when it remembers past wounds clearly.

This love doesn’t show up loud.
It shows up faithful.
In how I speak.
In how I listen.
In how I forgive.
In how I remain present when it would be easier to withdraw.

I’m realizing that preparing for Christmas isn’t just about honoring a moment in history, it’s about allowing Christ's love to reshape how I live now.

𝗕𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀, 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝘀:
my home,
my relationships,
my leadership,
my understanding of what truly matters.

This Advent, I want to prepare not just with decorations and plans,
but with a heart willing to reflect the love that came to dwell among us.

Love remains.

12/17/2025

⭐️ Advent Reflection — Week 3 (Joy) Pt 2 ⭐️

“Joy is not a reward for surviving — it’s a gift meant to be received.”

I’ve noticed that many of us don’t resist joy because we don’t want it, we resist it because we’re not sure we deserve it.

After seasons of grief, loss, or disappointment, joy can feel unfamiliar… even uncomfortable.
Sadness becomes the emotion we know how to carry.
Suffering feels earned.
Joy can feel like something we’re supposed to wait for or justify.

Sometimes the question quietly sits in our hearts:
Have I suffered enough yet?
Have I done enough to be allowed to feel light again?

But that’s not what God asks of us.

Scripture reminds us that joy isn’t something we earn through endurance or obedience.
It’s something we’re invited into...freely, gently, without condition.

God doesn’t require us to prove our pain before permitting our joy.
He doesn’t measure our sorrow to decide when we’re worthy of gladness.
He simply offers joy as part of His presence with us. Even in unfinished seasons.

And I’m learning that allowing joy doesn’t minimize grief.
It doesn’t erase what we’ve walked through.
It simply says that pain doesn’t get to be the ONLY thing that defines us.

This Advent, I’m practicing receiving joy without apology.
Letting it coexist with tenderness.
Trusting that joy doesn’t dishonor what I’ve lost. It honors the life still being lived.

Joy isn’t a reward for being strong.
It’s a reminder that God is still near.

12/14/2025

⭐ Advent Reflection — Week 3 (Joy) ⭐️

"Joy doesn’t require perfection — it just asks us to be present.”

The other night my son and I were making cookies.

I wasn’t paying close attention, and a few of them ended up way too close together on the tray.

When they baked, they merged into one big, misshapen mega cookie. It was, honestly… kind of ugly.

My first thought was that I ruined it.

But my son didn’t see it that way at all.
He was thrilled. Laughing. Already reaching for a piece.
To him, it wasn’t a mistake, it was just more cookie.

Standing there, I realized how quickly I default to evaluating moments instead of enjoying them.
How often I decide something is “off” or “failed” simply because it didn’t turn out the way I pictured.

And joy gently interrupted me.

Because joy isn’t found in perfectly shaped outcomes.

It lives in warm, messy kitchens. In failed attempts. In shared laughter, and the freedom to enjoy what is... not what should have been.

Scripture talks about joy as something deeper than happiness. It is something steady, resilient, and rooted. Rooted in gratitude. Rooted in thr present.

And I think that kind of joy shows up most clearly when we stop insisting on perfection and start embracing presence.

That night, we ate the cookie anyway.
It tasted just great.

And that imperfect moment, sprinkled with unexpectrd laughter, turned out to be even sweeter.

This Advent, I’m reminding myself:

Joy doesn’t wait for everything to be polished.
It shows up when we release control, stay present,
and let life be a little messy and still good.

12/10/2025

✨ Advent Reflection — Week 2 (PEACE) Pt 2✨

“A peaceful heart stops interpreting the world through old wounds.”

One thing I’ve been noticing in myself lately is how much peace changes the way I see, not just how I feel.

The same conversations, the same dynamics, the same moments that once stirred anxiety or defensiveness start to feel different when my spirit is settled.

Clearer. Kinder. Less threatening.
Almost as if God is gently recalibrating my vision.

And it’s made me realize something important:

Peace doesn’t erase past wounds, but heals the lens through which you view your present.

There were seasons when I responded quickly. Not because the situation was truly chaotic, but because my lens was.
Where silence felt like rejection,
uncertainty felt like danger,
pressure felt like failure,
and simple misunderstandings felt like emotional risk.

None of that was the truth.
It was old hurt coloring new experiences.

But as I’ve leaned more deeply into God’s peace, something in me has shifted.
I hear people differently.
I interpret situations more accurately.
I navigate tension with more softness and far less fear.

Scripture says, “My peace I give you…”
And I’m learning that this peace doesn’t just comfort... it clarifies.
It steadies the heart long enough for truth to rise above old narratives.

Peace has become a quiet teacher in my life:

• reminding me I don’t have to react from places I’ve already healed,
• helping me separate what’s happening now from what happened then,
• guiding me to respond with wisdom instead of worry,
• and allowing me to stay open without being unprotected.

This Advent, I’m holding onto this:

When peace lives in you, you start interpreting the world from a place of healing, not history.