When Empowerment Becomes Exclusion

“Empowerment” is a word that gets tossed around a lot these days. It’s plastered on billboards, sprinkled through panel discussions, and hashtagged like a badge of honor.

I believe in the strength empowerment delivers. But lately, I’ve noticed something unsettling: empowerment is increasingly being used as a way to separate, not unify. And if we’re not careful, we’ll keep mistaking unhealed trauma for leadership—and self-isolation for strength.

This isn’t just a matter of semantics. It’s a crisis of meaning. One that’s costing us trust, progress, and any hope of building the kind of inclusive future we claim to want.

When the Language of Empowerment Masks Trauma

Empowerment, in its truest form, is about wholeness. It lifts without pushing others down. It invites rather than excludes. But over the past decade—especially in leadership, activism, and even mental health circles—I've seen something shift.

Too often, empowerment is being expressed as emotional armor. It's not rooted in healing, but in defense. And while that may feel empowering in the short term, it often becomes a mask for unaddressed trauma.

And that trauma? It runs deep. Generationally deep.

We come from family lines marked by slavery, abuse, poverty, and systemic neglect—and those legacies don’t just vanish. They settle into our bones, our beliefs, our behaviors.

Take the woman who says, "I don’t need anyone." Maybe she doesn’t—but maybe that independence was born from a lineage where trust was repeatedly violated. Perhaps her grandmother was abused, her mother abandoned, and now she carries the silent vow: never depend on a man.

Or consider a family whose roots stretch back to slavery. The enforced silencing, the stripping of identity, the generational trauma of having your humanity systemically denied—those wounds don’t fade with time. They shape how future generations relate to power, voice, and even each other.

In those contexts, empowerment becomes a shield. A survival mechanism. But when we build movements from that pain—without healing it—we risk creating structures that exclude, defend, and divide.

Empowerment movements that stem from unprocessed trauma often set rigid boundaries that favor some and lock others out. They define inclusion by exclusion. And they leave little room for nuance, growth, or shared humanity.

And this isn’t speculation—it’s being documented. According to a 2022 report by the Stanford Social Innovation Review, some modern empowerment efforts, particularly in social justice and identity-based initiatives, have taken on gatekeeping behaviors that discourage dialogue and diminish collective healing. These movements, while well-meaning, often evolve into echo chambers where dissenting voices—even from within—are silenced, and unity is confused with uniformity.

A deeper review of empowerment in public health and community planning also shows the need for caution. In their 2020 analysis, researchers from the University of Toronto found that when community empowerment projects lacked trauma-informed design and inclusive leadership, marginalized voices within the marginalized group were still left out—perpetuating the very harm the movement sought to address.

As bell hooks once said, “There can be no love without justice.” If we are not careful, the language of empowerment—unrooted from justice and community—becomes a tool of ego, not empathy.

Oprah Winfrey, who has long spoken about trauma and resilience, once said: “True empowerment comes when you use your story to serve others, not to shield yourself from them.” That’s the difference. Empowerment is not an identity. It’s a responsibility.

What we’re seeing today is a society actively trying to reclaim voice, dignity, and visibility—but doing so in ways that sometimes replicate the very harms we’re trying to escape. Movements that begin with collective pain sometimes harden into systems of exclusion, especially when healing is not at the center.

We’ve all seen it: “empowerment” circles that feel more like clubs. Movements where trauma has become a currency, and the more visible your wound, the more validated your leadership.

We cannot confuse visibility with vitality. We cannot confuse defensiveness with discernment. We cannot confuse trauma expression with trauma resolution.

The social impact theorist Adrienne Maree brown reminds us: “What we pay attention to grows.” If we are constantly feeding our pain, our fear, our division—that’s what expands. But if we water spaces where healing, conversation, and inclusion are the roots—empowerment blooms in a way that elevates us all.

Real empowerment asks: How do we heal and lead? How do we resist and restore? How do we create space for pain without making it the architect of our power?

Trauma Disguised as Empowerment

If you want to know whether a space is truly empowering or just trauma-reactive, ask:

• Is it safe for multiple truths to exist here?

• Is disagreement handled with curiosity or control?

• Do the empowered make space for others—or only speak on their own behalf?

• Is healing central to the mission, or just implied?

• Is the movement grounded in shared growth—or inherited pain?

  
  

Empowerment that isolates is still isolation. Empowerment that divides is still division.

True empowerment is inclusive by nature. It creates space, not hierarchies. It’s not born from grievance—it’s born from vision.

Real empowerment isn’t about who talks the loudest or who’s been hurt the most.

It’s about who’s willing to lead from a healed place—with clarity, compassion, and courage.

It’s about moving from reactivity to resilience. From “us vs. them” to “we’re in this together.” From isolation to integration.

Heal yourself and be empowered ;)

-Troy Rienstra