The Loneliness of the Sole Black Employee
You know the day is coming. You sent in your application, made it through the interview process and got hired. Now it’s time for your first day, and there’s one big hurdle you’ll have to face, today and every day…
You’ll be the only Black employee in the company.
When you live in countries where you’re in the minority, this is a common experience. You don’t see anyone who looks like you on the interview panel, and you sure as heck don’t see any in the office or the lunchroom. It’s just you — the only Black or brown face in a sea of whiteness – and it’s a lonely place to be.
Apart from the loneliness, there’s a heavy weight of responsibility, too. One reason for this is that you know you’re the person everyone in that office will use to judge all Black people, present and future.
Many of them have never interacted day to day with anyone who looks like you. Some will be open-minded and friendly; others will be closed-minded and not so friendly. And there’ll probably be a couple of outright racists in there, too.
While inside your home, you’re just you, but the minute you leave, your blackness becomes the first thing that the white majority notices about you.
As you commute to work, you may see people shrink away as if you’re going to rob them. And you may wait twice as long for a cab as the blond person next to you. When you get to the office, superficially everything’s ok. But the microaggressions can start as early as your first day…
You may have to convince a security guard that you actually work there. Or you’ll find that rather than being allowed to make your own way upstairs, someone has to accompany you. (Once you’re on the team, it may not happen again, but it’s a clear sign of the implicit biases that will affect your working life.)
As you fill in your paperwork, and people make “small talk”, the microaggressions continue…
Surely you can’t be from here? Oh, you are? But where are your parents from? If it’s not this country, then your questioners can safely put you in the “lesser” box and get on with their day.
Early on in your relationship with the company, you may get questions about your hair. Some may be rude enough to put their hands in it. And there are other microaggressions too, about how you speak, about how you write, about your education, about…whatever you do or are that’s perceived to be outside the norm for a Black person.
But it’s even worse when it comes to doing your actual work…
For example, in a meeting, people will often talk over you and ignore you or, even worse, listen and dismiss you. You might be brilliant and have great ideas, but they’ll never know because their minds are firmly closed to the possibility that a Black employee might have value to offer.
And that goes double if you’re a Black woman. You may find that it takes longer to get projects approved, that there is more micromanagement and oversight, and that if something works well, you might not even get the credit (though you’d better believe you’ll get the blame if anything goes wrong).
You can’t even be sure that your manager will support you…
Often, that manager is threatened by your intelligence and will block you from opportunities for advancement.
But it doesn’t get much better when people listen. Because they only tend to listen when it’s a question of issues that have to do with Black people.
Suddenly, you’re THE expert on diversity, equity and inclusion, even if that has nothing to do with your day job. You’re THE expert on the Black experience, even though by now people should know that Black people aren’t a monolith.
The Black community is as diverse as any other…
The cultures of Black people from the US, the UK, the Caribbean, and the plethora of African countries can and do vary widely, even if we all share a skin shade.
And you can’t win: Bring up diversity issues outside the allotted discussion slots and you’re met with eye-rolls and sighs because the Black person is talking about diversity AGAIN. In some cases, talking too much about inequity can get you fired.
Somehow you struggle through the day, counting the minutes till you get back to your sanctuary, your home. Sadly, you’ll have to do it all again tomorrow, and for much of your working life.
It’s no wonder you’re tired. It’s no wonder you’ve decided to keep your head down, get on with the job, and avoid making race an issue.
I’ve been that person, reserving conversations about racism for late-night confabs with my girlfriends. But lately something’s changed. I’ve been more vocal publicly about racism and related issues in the past few years than I have my whole life.
I’ve talked to friends and acquaintances, and also complete strangers who’ve responded to my articles and LinkedIn posts.
One of my friends said I was “giving a voice to the voiceless”. What they meant by that was that they couldn’t speak out in their workplace for fear of repercussions. (You’d better believe that when you interrogate the white patriarchy about diversity, equity and inclusion there are repercussions, ranging from side-eye and snarky remarks all the way up to you losing your job.)
But I’m a freelancer, so I can speak, because nobody can fire me. Sure, there may be some jobs I don’t get. I’m sure there are people who are uncomfortable with what I post. Hearteningly, there have also been those who are listening and learning and committing to doing better.
I plan to continue to highlight these issues where I can, and to amplify the voices of those who are leading the way on anti-racist action.
My view is that everybody needs to be talking about this. Let me make it clear to my white friends and colleagues: I don’t hate you, I just hate racists and racism.
But hating racists isn’t enough. The question is what are we doing to challenge racist behavior? If you’re white, how are you using your white privilege to support your Black friends and colleagues? Are you having hard conversations about racism with the people who look like you?
Because that’s what needs to happen next. It will be difficult, challenging, and uncomfortable, but unless we all do it, nothing will change.
Ready to commit to being actively anti-racist? Join the Anti-Racist Leaders Association for ongoing support to eliminate racism through consistent and persistent action.
Reprinted with permission from Sharon’s Anti-Racism Newsletter.
The 5 Stages Of Coming To Terms With Being Racist
Discovering we are racist, as white people, can take some time to get used to. It’s a little bit like the five stages of grief. This was definitely (still is!) my experience and I can still move back and forth into the various stages…
Denial
First, we may deny that we ARE racist, often focusing on all the reasons we couldn’t possibly be…
Yep, the fact that I make an effort to recycle my crisp packets and that I was veggie for 36 years REALLY made that list! The list often gets added to, especially when new challenges come up…
- I have Black friends, relatives, colleagues, bosses.
- I don’t use offensive or outdated language.
- I don’t laugh at racist jokes.
- I watch the ‘right’ films and read the ‘right’ books.
…the list of excuses literally goes on and on!
Anger
Oooo this one’s not fun. The rage at having to confront our racism, perhaps for the first time, at least consciously.
In my (inter-racial) relationship this has also delightedly come out on my Brown wife at times too. Why?
Because holding these unpalatable truths about myself has to go somewhere (no excuse and what I suspect frequently happens).
The anger comes from us refusing to be accountable and take responsibility. For me this stage is often where white fragility (a form of weaponised defensiveness) is played out.
Blaming and feeling resentful at the Black and Brown people around us – whether internally or externally – for us having to do something about our own racism!
Bargaining
“If I do this then I can’t be racist” kinda thinking…
If I don’t clutch my handbag but smile sweetly when a Black guy in a hoodie goes by…
If I don’t ask the Brown woman at work “where do you really come from”…
If I don’t try and touch my Black friend’s hair…
If I spend money in Black and Brown businesses…
…then I can’t be racist, can I?
Often this bargaining is connected to:
- Being Performative – where our attempts at being anti-racist are ‘just for show’ – like putting a black square on our social media profile after a very public outcry of racism, but doing nothing on a daily basis to change it.
- Cookie Seeking – being anti-racist in the hope of being praised in some way – getting a cookie – for your actions.
- Centering Ourselves – in an effort to prove we aren’t racist we often end up centering ourselves and our whiteness. This may look like talking inappropriately about racism to Black and Brown people to demonstrate our attempts at allyship (this is NOT allyship!), expressing our disgust at others’ racism or ‘standing up for’ Black or Brown people experiencing racist harm in ways that center us or give us something and put the Black or Brown person at further risk of harm.
Bargaining is often borne out of a sense of helplessness; that we have started to let the truth of our racism into our consciousness but it all feels shocking and overwhelming. Bargaining gives us a slight sense of control.
Depression
Once we realise that we are, in fact, racist (as white people living in a racist world I believe this is inescapable) it can be quite depressing. We may become more insular, scared to socialise as much, especially with Black and Brown people, scared that we will be harmful in our words or deeds in some way.
White fragility often shows up in this stage too…I find myself pulling away and retreating into a ‘well it’s just all too much, I can’t be expected to deal with this’ attitude.
Acceptance
When we reach this stage we have finally stopped resisting the acknowledgement of our racism and racist behaviour. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a massive pisser. Still uncomfortable. There is still a desire for it not to be the case. But we’re not running from it anymore.
Once we reach this stage (and it sure as hell hasn’t been static for me!), we can finally begin a journey towards anti-racism and ultimately the goal of allyship…intentional actions that actively promote inclusion and belonging for marginalised groups of people. Those groups get to decide if we are allies, it is NOT a label we should ever give ourselves.
Where are you on your anti-racism journey?
What Can Racism Look Like In The Workplace? (Part 1)
Having spent two years at the helm of an EdTech startup as co-founder and COO, one of my tasks was to build the company as explicitly anti-racist and committed to diversity, equity and belonging. By and large I succeeded…
We implemented a large number of progressive initiatives – we learned from the challeges and we kept working at it (until I left and was subjected to the most intense form of DARVO I’ve ever experienced in the workplace).
But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t racism. There was…and lots of it. In fact as the most senior Black or Brown leader, I was on the receiving end of weekly incidents of racism, even (especially) from my white co-founder.
When I’ve talked about this in the past most (white) people are incredulous: “Wait, what? How? What did they do? What does it look like?”
And someone asked me recently what microaggressions and other forms of racism look like, at the top of a company.
Here’s my lived experience…
🔬 Leadership scrutinise the performance of Black and Brown team members in a way they do not with white team members.
For example, this shows up with an impatient “She’s late” response if a Black/Brown colleague is indeed 1-2 minutes late to a meeting versus the space & grace extended to a white person for their tardiness (no comments, no impatience, “Oh I’m sure there’ll be a good reason”).
🎢 When opportunities exist to promote or fill a gap, guess who’s first in line at their suggestion? Yes, the white person on the team.
And when this is pointed out: “Oh of course, I forgot about them”. Once is passable, multiple times is not.
🛡 An ongoing defence and protection of white colleagues with a unique ability to look the other way or simply appear to not see performance issues which are, for Black and Brown colleagues, almost immediately called into question and highlighted.
⚖️ Even with an equally-senior colleague, there’s an expectation that the excellent Black or Brown leader will pick up the slack and cover for mediocre performance, only for the yt leader to shift the blame if things don’t go smoothly.
These are not uncommon experiences at all – racism is rife within companies – and they happen right at the top too, even in self-proclaimed anti-racist organisations, despite any intention to do/be better. (I’ll be talking more about intention vs impact).
If there’s a majority white leadership, despite any intention otherwise, without significant support, racism will continue across the company and the white leadership will continue to do more harm.
It doesn’t need to be this way. If it is, send your leaders to join the Anti-Racist Leadership Association for ongoing support to eliminate their racism and harmful impact.
“But I’m Not Racist!”
…“My own racism”. This is a phrase that until quite recently (within the past year) I had never considered.
“But I’m not racist”, I thought to myself!
The very idea!! I’m a left wing, do-gooding sort, I’ve worked in the public sector nearly all my life, have an ‘ology degree and a Masters in Gender, for pity’s sake. Hell, I recycle my plastic, use compostable bin bags and didn’t eat meat for 36 years – How can I be racist?!
Newsflash, Becky, Hitler was a vegetarian…
Cue the beginnings of a journey to understand the many ways I am racist, in thought and deed. As well as the stark awakening that ‘being racist’ is not just about derogatory, overt, racist, hate-fuelled and ignorant language or violence, it is also about the daily biases and microaggressions that, as white people, we display because we live in a world where being white affords us more privileges than Black and Brown people, without us ever really recognising it.
For many white people this is shocking news still!
To hear that we are racist is, in itself, a bitter pill to swallow, often requiring a total reassessment of who we thought we were (and others). It also, personally speaking, has required a dawning and hideous realisation of all the times I have inadvertently behaved in a racist way and been completely oblivious to it, unlike the Black and Brown people I have harmed.
Once I was at least able to hear that I am indeed racist, my anti-racism journey started making progress!
No longer closed down to the word and its associations with me, I could open up to exploring how my racism is acted out, the many biases that I have and, most importantly, how I could begin to change. Care to join me?