We deserve to thrive – not just survive – even at work
Written by Maxime Matthew, [she/her], Program Officer for Summit & Community at Fora
The sudden upsurge in celebrating Black representation when Black History Month hits and the following lack of committed action to the highlighted issues, always pushes me to reflect on my experience, along with that of my racialized peers. Black women and their intersecting identities carry an unreasonable and sometimes invisible burden in the workplace: the emotional labour of grappling with micro and macro aggressions, and challenging stereotypes and tokenism every day.
Being a Black woman in the non-profit sector can often feel like walking a tightrope with a mask on: balancing authenticity while trying to avoid stereotypes, deciding between emotional perseveration and the emotional labour of standing against performative anti-racism, and being forced to compartmentalize our collective trauma and ignore tokenism for the sake of upward mobility at work.
ON EMOTIONAL LABOUR AND AUTHENTICITY
It is highly normalized for racialized folks to perform a palpable identity in the workplace, based on a level of professionalism that is rooted in whiteness: tailoring everything including our words and the way that we speak, the way we dress, how we straighten the curls in our hair and knowing the right length for our acrylic nails. I couldn’t help but notice the difference in Michelle Obama’s hair and fashion style since being out of the White House — a quick transition from palpable Blackness to authentic self-expression. She even mentions in interviews that her reserved style was a deliberate choice to lessen the distraction from their work and causes. I think that for some racialized women, the aim of this performance can sometimes be to distance oneself from stereotypes, in the hopes that if people remove their filtered lenses, then we can be seen for all the other facets of our being.
So, who is allowed to be ‘authentic’?
It's important to look around and consider whose emotional reactions are both allowed and comforted, whose complaints receive immediate action, and who are given second chances. To encourage authenticity in the workplace, we must first create a space in which it can thrive and shift the narrative of what is considered acceptable. Being your ‘authentic self’ is quickly becoming another popular phenomenon. While allowing for some important dialogue, if often lacks nuanced perspectives on the true cost of authenticity within our current model and what is needed to create enabling spaces for racialized employees to thrive in their authenticity.
What would happen if Black women had the space to show up as their full selves? As it stands, Black women are often filtering our emotions and avoiding confrontation to prevent falling into the ‘angry Black woman’ stereotype, with the potential to leave us ‘blacklisted’ in the workplace. In community with my Black peers, we have found ways to be light-hearted about when and how we code-switch, but we have also had to lean on each other to be able to navigate the exhausting existence of engaging with standards and environments deeply rooted in colonialism and white supremacy. As Black women, we are socialized to be hyper-aware of how we are seen and received in the workplace and learn how to exist differently based on the space. Sometimes, the identity performance can be a shield to protect one’s vulnerability and for emotional preservation.
I have been the only Black person on my team more times than not. As I continue to navigate non-profit work, I think deeply about the imbalanced load of emotional labour required of myself and my racialized colleagues and how our existence in these organizations can often feel tokenistic and unprotected in nature. *Spoiler alert: In the recently released movie, You People, I loved watching the character, Amira, be honest and clear about the disappointment and fatigue involved in carrying the emotional labour of having to look past micro-aggressions, having her emotions be invalidated due to white fragility, and feeling unseen. In an impactful scene, she says: ‘I’m not a toy…You can’t just see me for me. It doesn’t matter how many books you read or how many documentaries you watch, because at the end of the day, I won’t just be Amira to you – I’ll always be Amira, the Black token daughter-in-law – and that’s ignorant.” These lines so strongly resonated with me as I have felt these same sentiments of tokenism and people not seeing beyond the boxes they have put me in, in many different professional settings.
So, are we truly ready for Black women to bring their full authentic selves to work, or do we want them to present in a way that makes us comfortable? Racialized folks deserve to be in spaces where they can focus on fulfilling their full potential, instead of tiptoeing around the feelings and standards of their non-racialized peers and employers. We need decision-makers in the workplace to go beyond being excited to have a new shiny toy to display on the organization’s website and instead, create environments and conditions that push beyond the surface to ensure BI&POC staff are truly seen, heard, valued, and belong.
THE CYCLES AND SYSTEMS IN THE NON-PROFIT SECTOR, AND HOW WE CLEAR THE PATHWAYS TO LEADERSHIP
Non-profit organizations are making more concerted efforts in their mission-driven work to address social issues and barriers of access affecting BI&POC folks and their intersecting identities. However, I struggle with the lack of those representing communities on the teams that design, fund, and make final decisions on programming. I often do not see myself, my community or diverse Black identities reflected in leadership teams, especially in non-profit organizations whose work and campaigns tend to center on supporting racialized communities.
From discrimination during the hiring process to barriers in moving into leadership positions, racialized women face compounded levels of oppression based on their intersecting identities. As a Black woman who has been involved in the non-profit sector for nearly a decade, I have witnessed disparities in how my non-racialized peers have been able to move differently in the professional environment – people do not doubt their knowledge and expertise as much in hiring, they are offered higher salaries and they face fewer barriers to career promotion. Racialized folks are working harder to get to the same place as their non-racialized colleagues, and then being offered less money when they get there.
Misogynoir very easily seeps into the workplace and there is a greater gap in equal opportunity for professional and economic mobility for racialized employees. There is a need not only to consider the socio-economic barriers that may impact the professional journeys of racialized individuals but also how this is further intensified through anti-Black discriminatory criteria used during the hiring and promoting processes. The non-profit sector needs to address deeply embedded biases and structural barriers that hinder the advancement of racialized individuals into leadership capacities in management and on boards.
The development sector has historically and systematically been built on a saviour mentality, and a deliberate disempowerment of communities to be able to implement their own strategic solutions and create their own metrics for success and stability. In our organizations, this trickles into the lack of community voices leading the ideation and decision-making that affects their communities. The people who make decisions that impact BI&POC lives need to be accountable for representing their actual needs and serving these communities with values of reciprocity and respect. We need to challenge what assumptions underlie our proposed solutions and practice radical listening skills to truly support our communities and impacted groups when they tell us what they need.
Rather than prioritizing curated impact reports and bending activities to adhere to myopic grant conditions, non-profit organizations need to radically work towards justice by prioritizing the work that is needed by the community and supporting community leadership in that decision-making. Shifting planning and decision-making authority back into BI&POC communities, experts of their lived experiences, can be empowering to dream, design, and build a more equitable future.
GLORIFYING RESILIENCY & SELF-SACRIFICE
Structural violence is reflected in the non-profit sector where Black women can often fall into the trap of the ‘strong Black woman’ trope, working twice as hard without complaint and often left in the position to find solutions with minimal help and resources. While these issues are not exclusive to non-profit structures, it’s important to address that the non-profit sector is historically under-funded and under-resourced, which in turn exacerbates pressure on racialized staff and leaders to create greater impact out of much self-sacrifice.
These structures were not built with a consideration of what conditions are necessary to do this critical work well, while also being able to care for ourselves and our communities so that we can continue doing this work. The cycle of burnout and chronic stress has become too commonplace in the non-profit sector, as if to do this work is to expect to sacrifice your well-being, especially for those who come from already marginalized communities. As Black women, we are socialized within colonial and capitalist frameworks that push us to always work extra hard to prove our worth and our belonging, in structures that were clearly not built for us. While Black women are indeed incredibly strong and resilient, what I will not stand for is for that to be a continued excuse to keep us in positions that are under-resourced, underpaid, and overworked.
It is important to also acknowledge that racialized communities are systemically and historically harmed and underserved, a condition that creates a never-ending need for the third sector. Our social systems further place deliberate hurdles to limit access to funding and research and prevent program sustainability. Systemic oppression keeps the third sector alive. It keeps transformative justice and progress slow, and it keeps passionate advocates tired.
The reality is that it is incredibly difficult and exhausting to work in the advocacy and social justice spaces within the non-profit sector while our communities are actively being neglected, harmed, and killed. Drawing from Tricia Hersey’s work with The Nap Ministry and her advocacy that rest is a form of resistance, we need to de-normalize grind culture in the non-profit sector and prioritize rest and healing to be able to continue contributing to critical social justice work and our own liberation. We must create more intentional racial healing spaces in the non-profit sector where racialized leaders, especially Black women, can access community, healing, and personal and professional development resources crafted to their specific needs.
HOW THE NON-PROFIT SPACE CAN AND MUST DO BETTER
Racialized communities, however, are not monoliths. As we re-imagine a new future, it’s crucial that efforts for representation, inclusion and accommodation must also consider intersecting identities and cultural, geographic, and historical nuances.
Organizations need to understand that JEDI (Justice, Equity, Diversity & Inclusion) work does not end after a public statement is released. At the end of the day, failing to bring about the policy, budgetary, and structural changes to represent the promises made, is performative and perpetuates harm. Established policies should be regularly audited to reflect on their effectiveness and impact, and safe channels need to be in place for the employees affected by those policies to share feedback, without them carrying the labour of finding the solutions.
Non-profit standards for compensation, health benefits, and mental health support need a swift review and increase to ensure that employees, especially BI&POC folks, can positively contribute to the causes they support under sustainable conditions. Challenging the status quo and shifting towards new work models – paying living wages, having flexible schedules, more vacation days, and exploring shared executive leadership – will ultimately bring progress to organizational well-being and sustainability for the non-profit sector to continue generating impact.
While these issues are systemic and not exclusive to the non-profit sector, we need to radically prioritize justice-oriented action in every space and reflect on how we are further inflicting oppression and harm based on intersecting identities.
TAKING UP SPACE IN THE FUTURE
I envision the future of the non-profit sector as one where we’ve moved beyond tokenism into strategic and normalized Black leadership within properly resourced conditions to incite sustainable impact and social change. I hope that the philanthropic sector invests in reciprocal relationships and community-led initiatives that positively impact Black lives.
I envision the future of the non-profit sector as one where all Black identities can thrive in spaces that celebrate their intrinsic excellence and promote their holistic growth. I hope that Black women can be relieved from the burden of emotional labour and compliance with anti-Black standards, leaning into the uniqueness and excellence of their intersecting identities and lived experiences, in spaces that fully support their well-being.
I envision the future of the non-profit sector as one where racialized professionals continue to form community connections and alliances to support each other through mentorship, networking, and sharing their experiences. We need to uplift BI&POC youth who are passionate advocates for social progress and amplify the importance of their involvement in decision-making in the impact sector.
I envision the future of the non-profit sector as one where Black joy and rest are encouraged and uplifted in our advocacy, and organizations provide systemic support that prioritizes healing and overall well-being; all necessary parts to achieving genuine transformative justice.
We all need time to dream and design a more just and equitable future, together.
Maxime Matthew (she, her) is the Program Officer for Summit & Community at Fora. Skilled in program management and partnership building, she is dedicated to working on programs that drive social impact, diminish systemic barriers and promote resilient communities. Driven by her passion for anti-oppression, gender equity and environmental justice, Maxime is an advocate for using systems-thinking to drive meaningful change, cultivate reciprocal relationships, and redistribute power and resources.