WOMANIST
...You've gone to work
"All the people on the planet, working the 9-5 to stay alive" -Beyonce
Something I've found myself battling recently is being Black in the workplace. I used to babysit in undergrad and also work for families who had children with autism, I would receive emails from the Psychology department about the families, call/email them, and then we'd set up a time to interview. I remember driving to this one woman's house, getting out the car, having her open the door, look confused at me and say "you're Tiffany?!?!" clearly astonished because I used my business (White girl) voice when I spoke with her on the phone. Why do I change my voice? Because I noticed that Black women in particular have slightly deeper voices than White women, so when I'm making a business call I tend to make my voice more high pitched and I'm sure to enunciate every word in my speech. Interesting how I contort myself even in voice to appease the masses. Nevertheless, I interviewed with her, she was excited about the ideas I presented in working with her boys, even said she would start using them, but never called me back.
Moving forward to more present day, I completed my internship for graduate program with a county government. I knew that in my field the vast majority of mental health counselors were White women and also White men as psychiatrists, combining that with the knowledge of "people hire people who look/act like them," I straightened my natural hair before going into my interview. On the first day of my internship there, I wore it natural. One of the people who worked there said, "your hair is different" all I could do was smirk. LOL! Now, when I'm at work it's always interesting when I say "good morning" to someone at work and they ignore me or I make the effort to smile at them while walking the halls and they ignore my neighborly gesture. It made me cold.
My struggle isn't as bad as that of my boyfriend, Justyn's. People see his face and automatically expect him to be defensive and angry. Myself, they just expect me to have an attitude and for my neck to roll when I speak. He tells me stories of things that have happened to him at work and I become completely enraged. I'm literally waiting for the day there's a company party when I can "accidentally" step on someone's toes as I also "accidentally" elbow them in the gut. Yes; it's that bad.
For some odd reason, I thought my Blackness would become muted with the more education I received. Little did I know, my education only made it worse because I began to climb out of the social despair others hoped to continue to see me wallow in.
Words from Justyn...
The thing about being black in corporate
America is that it’s not only a job but a responsibility, not just to yourself
to maintain your daily living needs but a psychosocial responsibility to a race.
Many times, I represent the only intimate contact that my white counterpart
will have with other black people - black men in particular. The extent of
these interactions and any in the future will be largely determined by their
comfort level and acceptance.
The commencement of my journey in
corporate America overwhelmed me with a passionate, hungry and ambitious
personal charge ready to conquer the world, virgin to the struggles that lay
ahead. With no prior knowledge of white-collar America (no pun intended) I
confidently marched lock-step into my then new place of employment wearing all of
my brains an undergraduate credentials on my sleeve, strategically coupled with
my tailored power-suit, unaware of the humbling
experience that was sure to come for me.
Being in a setting swirling with
assumptions and prejudices, where silence is considered passive & un-intelligent
as opposed to one possessing cerebral and meticulous observations, or even utilizing
a vocal, opinionative approach in the name of disagreement is seen as brash and
arrogant as opposed to confident and assertive, I naturally adapt
and adopt a spirit of
competitiveness. I’ve been given the “overzealous or contentious
” label on several occasions in a myriad of settings as being
“difficult to work with” for such actions while my white
equivalent is applauded and rewarded for the same behavior, even in
events of us mirroring similar actions and habits. Coming from a household
where I was the man of the house, I was raised to intelligently speak my mind,
speak up for myself an
d
enunciate with
conviction but those values that were developed in my youth have consequently
been met with resistance in the form of “constructive criticism”, as if I’m only
to be seen and not heard, leaving me with a bitter taste of confusion; my mind
racing wondering if I am here because of my polished skills & expertise as
compared to fellow white applicants and colleagues, or if I am filling a seat
to meet a quota and fulfill some kind of branding or image requirement. The
constant feeling of being treated as lesser-than has caused an internal
struggle, forced to wonder if I belong or if I should just revamp my resume to
take another crack at seeking a more appreciative employment setting…racking my
brain with whether or not all of Corporate America is a world in which I
conceived to be a barren
tundra of unattainable plateaus and constant grappling with answer the call of
my identity while combatting the adverse presumptions of peers, colleagues, and
higher-ups. I have feelings of being painted with the same ghetto, uneducated,
sex-crazed paintbrush, only existing as the “token”; thoughts of feeling
sub-par, made to believe I was incompetent, lazy, and unreliable.
What more does a man have to prove after
already triumphing over uncontrolled childhood perils, experiencing the bane of
prejudice, and having to overcome life’s setbacks and discouraging curveballs,
resulting ultimately in a college-educated, goal-driven, and seasoned adult? In
light of such mental, social, and psychological auditing, the only feeling I am
often left with is a chaotic emptiness; a feeling that only a few can relate to
and even fewer would like to experience, daily.
Having
to undeservedly deal with similar situations, like when Mr. Officer steadily
makes it his duty to profile while on patrol, when the taxi driver refuses to
stop at your call for assistance, or when the store clerk unabashedly weaves in
& out of clothing racks and mannequins tracing your steps through the
aisles of Neiman Marcus has made me into a very observant, mindful, and
peace-seeking citizen. It’s no secret that responsible, contributing assets of
the community navigate the world constantly being reminded of the stereotypes that
those around us are considering, and, of course, nobody leaves their biases at
the door in the name of succeeding through a workday, which is challenging
enough. With the weight of Black America and all other societal pressures
burdening my professional advancement, I continue to overcome and progress
through the murky waters of being a young Black man pacing through the labyrinth
of Corporate America balancing the responsibilities I’ve acquired through
gaining sustainable employment to myself, my people, and the hope that I know
exists within the deep hallows of society. It’s easy to succumb to the skewed
notions of my existence as my social opposite, seemingly harder to embrace the
change sprawling about this volatile nation, but so much more of a reward to
embrace and accept me not as a quota or statistic, but as a valuable asset
helping to advance the lives of my community, refusing to be held back by the
polluted images that pop culture and criminal statistics depict me to be.
