The Dashiki Code: How to survive racism at work
After spending many years and lots of money in pursuit of higher education and work-related credentials, there’s nothing more deflating than being forced to confront the reality that some workplaces just aren’t ready to welcome, support and nurture BIPOC professionals. I decided to write this article because I get a lot of questions from young BIPOC professionals trying to navigate their way through the workplace trauma that inevitably results when they are not valued, promoted, compensated or supported commensurate with their contributions at work.
As a teacher, I believe learning and understanding the context and history of caste and racism in America can provide us with insights on how to survive work in these challenging times. I think it’s important for all of us to understand that experiences of butting up against privilege and power at work have a larger context and meaning that should be named and defined. Our emerging understanding of identity, of the occupational hierarchy that relegates BIPOC professionals to roles of subservience in the imagination of white supremacy, and of macro/micro aggressions have put a “face” on the stinging comments, marginalization and missed opportunities that many BIPOC people have experienced at work. The invisibility and undervaluing are experienced in very personal ways but having an analysis of the larger structural and institutional constructs that inform our experiences is important. zzzz
1. Have an analysis of caste, racism and white supremacy in America so you can gain some distance and perspective. According to Isabel Wilkerson, author of CASTE: The Origins of Our Discontent, caste is the seemingly permanent social, political, economic and cultural structure that relegates the Black descendants of American enslaved Africans to the bottom of the society, posits white folks — regardless of origin — to the highest rungs of society, and relegates everyone else to a position between these two polarities based on their proximity to or distance from one or the other. According to Wilkerson, caste is the bones — invisible and seemingly fixed, and race is the skin — the visible manifestation of who people are, and what we can expect from them. The People’s Institute for Survival and Beyond’s Undoing Racism training was where I first came to understand terms like internalized racial inferiority and superiority. Americans are socialized to trust the words, expertise and decisions of white Americans and to extend “the benefit of the doubt” when they have questions. Conversely, Americans are taught to regard Black expertise with caution, critique and mistrust. Understanding the context in which we are all operating is the first step in confronting, challenging and ameliorating white supremacy at work.
2. Acknowledge What You’re Game For. Most of the time, I don’t mind being the only one to raise my hand and “tell the truth” when I see injustices happening at work or in communities I’m serving, but I also understand that this approach doesn’t work for everyone. And, I think it is safe to say that some of us are just plain tired. If you’re willing to agitate in service to justice in your workplace then do that. Remember, though, that agitation has consequences. You may find there’s a target on your back if folks aren’t ready to hear what you have to say. I know lots of people who’ve been harassed, and even terminated, for raising issues about race, homophobia, misogyny, transphobia and ableism at work. Yes, good people get fired for wrong reasons. If you want to keep your head down, let it ride and get those three years of experience in a particular role, or to stay at your organization long enough to learn a specific skill before moving on, that’s okay. America has been doing this dance for centuries. You do not owe your organization the labor required to dismantle caste and racism. Don’t let the “woke police” ostracize you if you’re not up for educating and agitating. However, if you are ready to throw on your red, black and green dashiki for those big conversations, accept that freedom is never free — and your activism may have unintended consequences.
3. Create a Diverse Network of Mentors and Sponsors. I think having access to mentors and sponsors with shared identity who have successfully navigated bias at work is validating and instructive. Even when my mentors didn’t have all the answers or couldn’t solve my problems, it felt important to be seen and heard and to experience the kinship that comes through the shared struggle of racism at work. But it is foolhardy to assume that all people who share your identity will advocate for you, use their voices to advance your career, or take risks to back you up. In fact, some people who share our identities relish the idea of being “the only one” in an organization or within a particular space or sector. Develop relationships with a broad network of people who can advise you on your career trajectory more generally, and who can also vouch for your competence and deservedness when you’re not in the room. The way that power and privilege work also mean that many of your BIPOC mentors may not have the influence or power to make that call, get you that job, or do much more than listen. They may be operating on a different level, but they are likely facing similar struggles around race, class, gender, etc.
4. Sharpen the Saw. When I was first thinking about graduate school, my mother was adamant that I focus on transferable skills not just my passions. At the time, I thought she was minimizing some of the dreams I had. But now I know that a good part of her concern was connected to her desire that I develop skills that allow me to walk away from a toxic situation and still feed myself and my family. Thankfully, I’ve had the opportunity to work in a variety of settings doing a variety of things that I care deeply about — in large part because I’m always reading, learning, trying new things and doing my best to stay current on developments in my industry. Never stop learning. Never stop investing in yourself — that doesn’t just mean piling on degrees. It means reading trade journals, attending talks, joining associations and connecting with others who share your passion for the work and who can serve as resources as you build your career. I don’t believe in the old school mantra that Black folks should work twice as hard to get half as far — but I do know that the expectations and opportunities are different for us. Don’t get ready. Be ready.
5. Are you in the right job, at the right organization, at the right time? I hate to advise folks to run and hide, but I also know that some organizations are not positioned or inclined to be expansive in their thinking about diversity, equity or inclusion. I’m not suggesting you quit a job without a job, or that you never stick it out when the times get tough. I’m suggesting that you vet organizations before you get there (What do former employees think about their time there? What can you find out about the leadership?), and that you keep evaluating whether you are getting what you need and deserve to get you where you want to go. I don’t think there are any organizations that are getting DEI right every time, but I do think there are courageous leaders who understand that being “on mission” means that you create opportunities to maximize everyone’s talents. There are organizations that may be on the right track on anti-Black racism, and the wrong track on sexism and homophobia. We live intersectional, multi-issue lives and the workplace is never going to be perfect — mostly because folks bring their baggage and trauma with them through that office door everyday. But, before you take a gig, find out what the “street committee” has to say, and focus as much on questions about organizational values, culture and processes in your interview as you do on job function-related questions. And, once you’re there, if it isn’t the right place for you — find a new job and resign. No need to try and burn the house down on your way out — because the world is smaller than you know. If they’re not ready, it’s okay to walk away.
6. Yes, coaching. Yes, therapy. Yes, bitching and moaning with the crew. If I hadn’t availed myself of all three of these support strategies at different points in my career, I’d be in pretty bad shape right now. Executive Coaching gave me clear strategies for safely navigating a lot of toxic work situations. A good coach understands the context in which you’re doing your work, understands the nuances that identity brings to a work relationship, and has enough experience to help you map out a plan of action. Therapy helped me to maintain a sense of humanity and hope through difficult situations at work. And, let’s face it, my amazing friends circle, and their willingness to listen, help me process and hold me up, has been invaluable. Make sure you have access to all three resource buckets when you are feeling overwhelmed at work. You deserve it.
7. Set boundaries. Yes, demand equal pay and appropriate working conditions. I can acknowledge that Black women make about $.67 on the dollar of white men, but I’m not giving anyone permission to underpay me. Set standards for what it means to work with you, for you and/or to employ you. No, they cannot touch your hair. No you don’t have to answer ridiculous personal questions to feed people’s fetishized curiosity about your background. No, you don’t have to represent the entire race, all LGBTQAI folks, all differently abled people, etc. Setting boundaries is important and healthy.
8. Be willing to use the internal systems of the organization to bring people into conversation. If you’re really interested in helping to reimagine your organization’s culture, and you’re not the CEO, you might be willing to invest the extra labor of joining a DEI committee, or bringing in speakers for work events who can highlight these issues and offer solutions. Engaging supervisors, HR and internal affinity groups can be a way of sharing the high-cost emotional labor of doing anti-oppression work.
9. Join or create something outside of work. Become a mentor or join a social action organization where you can leverage your experience and privilege (yes, some of y’all have privilege too) in service to BIPoC communities. Making a tangible difference in your community can diminish feelings of helplessness and frustration and give you a clear sense of what it means to have social impact. My job is how I express my personal and human values, but NO job should define you. That’s too much power to give to other people. Be your full self via your service and memberships — everybody is entitled to a space where they feel affirmed. If the organization you’re looking for doesn’t exist — start one!
10. Remember, you are enough. Don’t forget to take time every now and again to look yourself in the mirror and declare without apology, “I’m worth it.” Don’t spend a lifetime questioning yourself and your worth because someone else failed to see your value. Build your life from the inside out. Become the person you always dreamed you’d become. Love yourself — this is the best armor there is.
Dr. Danielle R. Moss