Reflections on Race and Gender in the Workplace: Is it My Race or My Sex?
Today is the day we celebrate the accomplishments of Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King--a man who helped to inspire generations of people with the dedication he showed to a
dvancing civil rights in the United States and across the globe. Holidays that honor transformative figures and events are opportunities to reflect on our past, present, and future. I will admit that I don't always see holidays as anything more than a much-needed break from the daily grind. But on this particular King holiday I broke from that mindless tradition as I remembered something I'd read recently regarding civil rights.
A couple weeks ago, I was thumbing through one of my favorite books. "Speeches That Changed the World: The Stories and Transcripts that made history." I keep this book on my desk at work...I get random urges to look through it and compare my my own personal speechwriting for my principals to the speeches by vital figures who've come before.
On that day, I opened the book to a speech Shirley Chisholm delivered before Congress on May 21, 1969 in support of the Equal Rights Amendment--legislation that proposed to prevent discrimination based on sex. I'd never read this speech and before I could even begin, the following words jumped out at me:
"As a black person, I am no stranger to race prejudice. But the truth is that in the political world I have been far oftener discriminated against because I am a woman than because I am black."
Chisholm's words reflect a deeper kinship with her white feminist counterparts than I'd previously realized. She delivered those words at a crucial point in American history. Dr. King had been assassinated only a year before and that year also marked the beginning of Vietnamization as President Nixon promised to end the war in Vietnam. The political climate in 1969 was a very intense one as black America struggled with the gap left by Dr. King and the country found itself still in the midst of a war they began to fear would never end.
That Chisholm addressed the rights of women at such a divided time in our nation's history is a striking contrast to the issues that dominated American thought in 1969 and, I believe, shows the commitment she had to equal rights, in particular the rights of women. That fact, caused me to think about my own lack of commitment to advancing women's rights as I've focused more often on the impact of race. I'm wondering if I should reconsider my perspective.
The bulk of Chisholm's speech is focused on debunking the myth that women are "different" or somehow in need of additional "protection" from jobs or roles deemed too tough or intellectual for females. At the time of Chisholm's speech to Congress, the ERA had been introduced in every legislature for 40 years straight. Still, employers, including the Federal government were not prohibited from posting job announcements that excluded women or developing and using doubly pay scales that reflected differing pay based on sex. Chisholm remarked:
"It is obvious that discrimination exists. Women do not have the opportunities that men do. And women that do not conform to the system, who try to break with the accepted patterns, are stigmatized as 'odd' and 'unfeminine'..."
This part certainly hit home.
As many of you know, I write for a living and my career as been spent in politics and government. In the 10 year span of my career, I've worn many hats. I've been an assistant to a PIO, worked on the campaign trail, and lobbied, among other things. Most recently, I served as a spokesperson for an Agency where toward the end of my tenure it became very clear to me that I'd been discriminated against. I even considered filing a complaint--something that I'd never thought I'd do.
The environment at my previous job was one of young white women who, I believe, undertook deliberate efforts to continuously exclude from power anyone who wasn't like them (white, under 40, thin, and decidedly whitebread). A sort of Stiletto Bush World, this brand of discrimination doesn't just omit blacks, it rejects nontraditional women, including white ones, and older people of both races and sexes. It also completely emasculated the VERY FEW white men who held positions of power and the even fewer black men who languished without care or career development. I am not an expert on work place racial and gender-based dynamics, and I have struggled to connect the pattern of power indicated there to larger trends and have been as yet unsuccessful.
However, I do know that never before in my career had I felt that I was treated differently based on race and sex in a way that impacted me negatively until then.
Working in politics, I have been typically surrounded by white men. Around white men, right or wrong, I have been my most comfortable. I've always felt that these men didn't see me as a woman, but as a man in a dress who just happened to not be white. On some level, I believe, I've benefitted from white men's tendency to view me as defeminized and simultaneously as both devoid of race and a double minority (which gives them a way to appear more diverse and tolerant with my hiring).
I also think that I have been allowed a trust and respect not immediately afforded to their white female counterparts who I've seen white men, in turns, dismiss as mother or wife prototypes (bitches and nags), sex objects, or, especially in the case of many younger white career women, as little girls who should be seen and not heard.
In my time working around and for white men, I've never been talked down to or ignored. But I have experienced such treatment by white females and black men and have seen white men subject black men and white women to such treatment. This is not to say that I haven't witnessed active discrimination by white men. But this discrimination, as I've experienced it, is part of a larger effort to keep them in (by them, I mean their trusted and vetted networks and ilk), not necessarily to keep others out due to a negative perception of that group. Exclusion of people like me by white men has been mostly a byproduct (that I have overcome in many cases) not a deliberate effort as I've experienced with other groups. The type of discrimination that I've faced by white women is yet another hurdle I see in developing a kinship with them or even black men as it pertains to issues in the workplace.
Chisholm pointed out the many roles from which women were barred or not represented at the time. She didn't bother to distinguish between white women and black women leading me to believe that if a white woman was elected to a board of directors, Chisholm would have seen that as a victory on the part of all women whereas I would only view that as another victory for white women. As I see it, wins for black women come in the form of black female accomplishment specifically--no other type of achievement counts.
This subject came up often while Secretary Clinton was running against President Obama during the primaries as the media made a point of asking black women in so many words, "Whose side are you on??" Overwhelmingly, black women sided with President Obama feeling a black man in the highest position in the land is a more personal victory than a having a white woman serve that role. I agree with this, but wonder if Secretary Clinton were black, would we have felt a deeper kinship with her than Obama. For the record, had a black woman run against Obama with the same platform and agenda as he, I would have broken the law in order to vote for her more than once. My thinking has also led me to defend Condi Rice on several occasions and to be more angered by the media's treatment of Michelle Obama during the primary season than Obama himself.
I wonder about others' experiences and how they view current workplace dynamics, not just politically speaking, but on the grander scale of public, private, NGO and corporate work. I can say that up to this point in my career, I believe the discrimination I have faced has been because I was black and not because I am female--although being black and female has come with its own set of very specific challenges and differential treatment that I've only begun to understand.
January 18, 2010 2:09 PM
Great post.
January 18, 2010 2:11 PM
Working in the music business is rough. I think working in entertainment is hard for women period. I use to work in radio and got all types of remarks if I even put a little make-up on. It got to a point where I would come in everyday with sweatpants on everyday and big t-shirts because the artist and staff were are hornballs! Actually, I've found working with my fellow Jews has been one of the most straight forward groups to work with. Lets get money and no bs. Easy.
January 18, 2010 2:20 PM
Gosh, that's a really great topic. It's so hard to tease apart which prejudice dominates a particular situation though.
I think a lot of times, we as black women tend to feel an automatic, dutiful identification with all things "black" that is either inherent, implied, or innate.
This association happens sometimes at the expense of our own distinct identity as women.
But the combination of the two makes it difficult to tether experiences apart.
The expectation is that we bear the burden of race, even when our male counterparts are unable or unwilling. How often do we see this in terms of relationships? The dutiful loyalty many of us proclaim when discussing our decisions to date "black men only". A sentiment that is certainly not echoed from our counterparts as frequently. Or the nuanced way that it shows up in different debates in the blogosphere- where men imply that black women should have left feminism to white women, if they wanted to maintain the nuclear black familial unit.
With that, we become both the bearers of the burden, and responsible for creating it. Which is an almost impossible dichotomy. Lots to think on. Great post!
-MissAmara
January 18, 2010 2:38 PM
I mentioned to you on Twitter that I have been taken advantage of when I have worked for black run/owned companies and I want to give you some details so you understand why I say that. This might be lenthgy LOL.
In Orangeburg, SC I went to work for a friend of my husband who was starting a Christian newspaper as the Office Manager/Editor/Photographer/Writer/Layout Designer/Sales/Receptionist. Im not being funny either. I literally did 90% of the work it took to create and market this paper. I was working close to 90 hours a week (with 2 kids and a husband to care for). They promised me a salary that was competitive with the going rate. However, they did not have the funding to back that up. Mind you I relocated to take this position. They paid me half of what they promised and I had to quit the day I went to cash my check and the bank said they had insufficient funds to do so.
More recently, a friend from church asked me to come run the office of his new media network (recording/photo studio) and I agreed to work for a reduced wage since it was under the table and he is a close friend. I was working 40-50 hours a week for $200. Yes that is $5 an hour. Less than minimum wage. I was ok with that though. Until his money ran out and his partner could only pay me $125 a week (thats $3+ an hour). I had to quit when they too could not afford to pay me on time.
So I call this taking advantage of me simply because they had no problem working me to death while paying me was optional. The guy I was dating during that recent job cussed me out (he is Jamaican) for accepting a slave wage and not leaving when they began having $ problems. These were church folk I worked for. How come they did not see the stress they were putting on my finances and my life? I wonder if (since they were older black gentlemen) this was their way of getting back at the white man my skin tone represented (tho I married a black man, attend a black church and sing in a black choir).
Long-suffering is a gift God has given me. I stuck these jobs out til it just wasn't possible any longer, when most folk would have bolted at the first fishy late payday. What do you think?
January 18, 2010 2:46 PM
I majored in Electrical Engineering at USC. I was the only black female to graduate that spring, a class of about 100 seniors.
Guys didn't hit on me at school at all. I've been at the same work site for over 20 years, and the majority of men who hit on me are the janitors, although that's stopped. About 10 years ago, two engineers flirted with me until I made comments about it, then they avoided me.
It's odd that most of the time I couldn't tell if it was bigotry/racism/just plain old envy that I was experiencing at school and work. Maybe I'm lucky in that respect.
I will say that the most hatred I've received have been from black females. This continued from grade school into college, where two members of DST and one AKA confronted me and told me "Don't bother pledging, you won't get in." My clothes and hair weren't fly enough, I didn't go to church, I never dated black men exclusively....something was always wrong.
January 18, 2010 3:56 PM
Very quick and perhaps non-elegant response to your post:
Economist and Bennett College President, Dr. Julianne Malveaux once said, “it is important to note that race and gender are intertwined for African-American women and both are determinants in our economic, social, political and educational status.”[1] Later in the same piece she adds, “While more likely to be employed by African-American men, African-American women earn lower wages than African-American men and white women do, with white women earning a median $663 per week in 2007, compared to $629 for African-American men and $566 for African-American women. All three groups earn less than white men, whose 2007 weekly median earnings were $850.”
Recently I decided to pursue a greater understanding of how race, gender, sexual identity, and all manner of “dis-privilege” constrain and shape a person’s experience within the workplace. I am particularly interested in the experiences of African-American women. Two-thirds of African-Americans in colleges and universities today are female. I am concerned about the career development and mentorship they will receive upon entering the workforce – and wondering if they will be able to fully actualize their talents and abilities. While the appointment of Ursula Burns, as the first African-American female CEO of a Fortune 500 company (Xerox) in May 2009 is encouraging, it is important to note that the first African-American male CEO of a Fortune 500 company occurred in 1998 (Franklin Raines, Fannie Mae). Additionally, I believe the first white female CEO of a Fortune 500 company was appointed in 1972 (Katherine Graham, Washington Post).
In the 2008 election I, like many African-American women was asked if I was voting my race or my gender. White women asked me this the most. I always expressed my willingness to vote for Michelle Obama because to me she was just as viable a candidate as any of the others in the race. I did notice that many African-American women including some I know who make hundreds of thousands of dollars focused their enthusiasm on the prospect of having an African-American first lady (something white women never had to do because they’ve been there 43 times). And while sistas could list other African-American male future candidates (e.g., Cory Booker, Harold Ford Jr.) and even white female candidates (e.g., Hillary Clinton) when I’d press for an African-American female prospect….*dead silence*. I found this daunting and am still waiting for serious public discourse about the potential of having a woman of color as Commander and Chief.
African-American women can not compartmentalize our existence, again race and gender are intertwined for us and in that space it is apparent that we are woefully behind other groups. I will admit that most of my professional conflicts have been with white females. I also had a horrible experience with an African-American male colleague. With this said, white males are the most privileged in all of society. My comparative lack of conflict with this group is just an indication of where I stand in the continuum of power (dead last). In other words, if I was running third place in a race, I’d want to catch up to the 2nd and 1st place runners but I’d definitely wouldn’t want to lose ground to the person in 4th place. I think everyone would be best served if we stopped using white males as the reference point for power and leadership. If we can dismantle the notion of what we expect (consciously or unconsciously) our leaders to look like (white, male) perhaps there will be true meritocracies in organizations and for that matter all facets of power and leadership.
Finally, the book “But Some of Us Are Brave: All the Women Are White, All the Men are Black” by Gloria T. Hull, Patricia Bell Scott and Barbara Smith has been on my must read list. Your blog post serves as a reminder to read the book.
1.http://www.juliannemalveaux.com/downloads/THE_STATUS_OF_AFRICAN_AMERICAN_WOMEN.pdf
January 18, 2010 4:23 PM
There's so much I want to say...one thing that stuck out to me in Gabby's post is that she encouraged us to stop using white men as a reference point for power and leadership. I do think that I need to stop doing that, my last job was a lesson that the dynamic is changing and that we are going to have to look more closely regarding how power is executed by black men, black women, and white women.