Jonathan Joss was a beloved Indigenous actor.
A powerful voice. A husband. A storyteller. A gay man.
And on June 1st, he was murdered — shot by a white neighbor in his own neighborhood.
Let’s be clear:
This was not a misunderstanding.
This was not a conflict gone wrong.
This was a hate crime.
It was the violent intersection of anti-Indigeneity and homophobia —
and the silence around it has been deafening.
Jonathan and his husband had already survived a targeted arson.
They lost their home.
Their dogs were killed.
And still — they were forced to return to a community that did not want them alive.
This is not just about Jonathan.
This is about a system that protects white comfort while criminalizing Indigenous presence and queer joy.
To white men reading this:
This is one of the rare times we’re asking you to get loud.
We don’t need your thoughts.
We don’t need your “shock.”
We need your rage — channeled, visible, and directed at the systems you benefit from.
Where is your voice when a gay Indigenous man is murdered in cold blood?
Where is your outrage when white male entitlement turns lethal again?
This isn’t about allyship.
It’s about accountability.
And you’re either complicit by silence — or activated by justice.
The above Tik Toker is demonstrating this well (it is also his brand voice)
For those of us holding grief:
We are tired.
Of burying our people.
Of writing the same eulogies.
Of explaining why our lives are worthy of protection.
We honor Jonathan Joss not by “mourning quietly,”
but by speaking his name in boardrooms, policy tables, classrooms, and studios.
We carry him into every conversation about what real leadership looks like:
Not sanitized.
Not performative.
But rooted in truth, in reckoning, and in repair.
The Definition of a Hate Crime
A hate crime is not defined by whether the killer said a slur in the moment.
It is defined by pattern, by motive, by targeted violence against identity.
When someone experiences months of threats, is forced to leave their home due to a targeted fire, and is then shot and killed by the same neighbor who tormented them—that is a hate crime.
When you are targeted not for what you did, but for who you are—for your existence as Indigenous, queer, Brown, trans, disabled, visible—that is a hate crime.
To debate this is not nuance.
It is gaslighting.
And it will not be entertained here.
You do not get to define a hate crime!
It has a definition; learn it.
Essential Questions About Hate Crimes & Harm
Can a Brown person kill another Brown person and it still be a hate crime?
Yes. If the violence is motivated by bias against a specific identity (e.g., anti-queer, anti-Blackness, anti-transness), it is a hate crime—regardless of the perpetrator’s race. Marginalized people can and do reproduce oppressive systems when conditioned by supremacy culture.
Does someone have to say a slur for it to be a hate crime?
No. Hate crimes are about motive and pattern. A slur might be evidence—but threats, targeting, and prior harassment are equally strong indicators of bias-based violence.
Is all violence against a marginalized person a hate crime?
Not always. But when violence is motivated by identity—when someone is targeted because they are Black, Indigenous, trans, gay, Muslim, disabled, etc.—that violence becomes a hate crime.
Why do people question hate crimes even when the signs are obvious?
Because confronting hate disrupts privilege. Many people are more comfortable blaming the victim, labeling it “a personal dispute,” or demanding “more evidence” than admitting systemic harm exists.
Can white people commit a hate crime without using the N-word or attacking someone physically?
Yes. Hate crimes include arson, threats, stalking, doxxing, and even the attempt to intimidate someone based on identity.
Why is it important to name something a hate crime?
Because language shapes accountability. Calling it what it is honors the victim, resists erasure, and prevents systemic patterns from being minimized or repeated.
What’s the difference between a hate crime and a bias incident?
A hate crime involves a criminal act (e.g., assault, vandalism). A bias incident may involve discriminatory language or harassment without an illegal act—but both are harmful, and both are symptoms of the same disease.
Why is there more outrage when the perpetrator is white?
Because whiteness has been historically protected by legal, political, and cultural systems that dehumanize the rest. Naming whiteness in violence is not bias—it’s context.
How can we support those impacted by hate crimes without centering ourselves?
Listen. Amplify. Resource. Don’t demand emotional labor. Don’t argue the obvious. Show up when it matters—and long after the hashtags fade.
What does accountability look like beyond prosecution?
True accountability is communal, not just legal. It includes reparations, truth-telling, community protection, and dismantling the conditions that allowed the violence in the first place.
What does this have to do with you, especially if you think you’re “not the problem”?
Everything.
Because harm like this doesn’t just happen in a vacuum — it lives in how we were all taught to see each other, speak to each other, and decide who belongs where. And until each of us is actively unlearning the behaviors and communication habits we were conditioned to accept — we are complicit in the silence that makes violence feel normal.
It’s in the jokes you let slide.
It’s in the way you shrink when someone is grieving or angry.
It’s in the avoidance. The intellectualizing. The “I just didn’t know what to say.”
That too is the system speaking through you.
Self-leadership means not waiting until everyone around you gets it.
It means practicing new ways of seeing, naming, and showing up — even when it's uncomfortable. Especially then.
Because when you lead yourself into liberation, you create relational permission for others to do the same.
You become a door where there used to be a wall.
And you might never see all the ways that changes the room — but it does.
The most radical work you can do right now isn’t to look away.
It’s to look inward.
Unlearn. Speak.
And move differently — before you're asked to.
Leadership Revealed does more than share a news story with you. We show you how to start unraveling your current thinking, mindset, and conditioning.
Yes, this is the very thing I get hired to do and paid to do — thank you to those who have been listening to me teach you the value of reciprocity.
Why support this publication + me?
Because it’s not news—it’s nourishment.
We all read the headlines. We all scroll past the outrage.
But this space? This isn’t reactionary content.
This is where you come to repattern.
I don’t just drop talking points—I deliver energetic assessments, deep reflection prompts, and the kind of guidance that helps you evolve your communication, your leadership, and how you hold power in community.
It’s not performance. It’s practice.
And practice, real practice, is worth investing in.
If you’re paying consultants to tell you how to “show up better,” but not resourcing the wisdom that actually teaches you how to feel better, lead better, and root deeper—then you're bypassing the real work.
$250/year for what I offer here?
That’s pennies compared to what most pay to be told how to manage perception.
This is where you come to change your relationship to truth—not just optics.
If you’ve grown here, pause and ask yourself:
Have I supported the space that’s been feeding me?
Because reciprocity is leadership, too.
P.S. ALL Founding Members receive all my Impact Guides published the year of their subscription. Can you say FREE library of books + work that brain-friendly + neur-science-based!
The tik tok creator you watched is “It’s Luke”
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