Workplace Lynching is Real. And as a Black Woman, I Need it to Stop.

The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the Black woman. The most neglected person in America is the Black woman. – Malcolm X

The workplace sure knows how to bring a Black woman to her knees, don’t it? The above quote tracks even at work; especially at work. In this blog post, I in no way mean to disregard how other groups of people are treated in the workplace. I know there are spaces and places where everybody can get it. Still, I must say experience has shown me no one deals with the level, consistency, or drama of workplace antagonism like a Black woman. The literature absolutely aligns with that sentiment:

According to the State of Black Women in Corporate America report (2020), Black women are less likely than women of other races and all men to receive support and encouragement from their managers.¹ Their managers are less likely to help them navigate workplace politics.¹ Black women are more likely to be on the receiving end of microaggressions.¹ Only 1/3 of Black women surveyed received opportunities to lead people and projects compared to 39% of Latinas, 40% of Asian women, and 43% of white women.¹ When it comes to average salaries, Black women make 37% less than white men and 20% less than white women.¹

I’ve not seen the term workplace lynching used much. I can’t say I made it up. I’ve only seen a similar phrase with The Anatomy of a Corporate Lynching by Charles Ford. Here’s how I define workplace lynching: to publicly humiliate, condemn, criticize, and/or terrorize within the realm of a place of work; may culminate in the death of a career. And it happens every day, especially to Black women.

I have been workplace lynched twice: once last year when former residents reported comments I made about MY future career plans on MY social media page. That was an entire ordeal and one of the most ridiculous experiences I’ve survived. The second time occurred more recently and I do believe it deserves a blog post. I planned to start the top of the year sharing my 2023 goals. Instead I choose to use this time and space to share with Black women while educating others: STOP lynching us!

As you all know, I had a wonderful time in Atlanta on my away rotation. I had peace at work and at home. That time was so nourishing. I was so free. I returned to New York last week only after a delayed flight (a sign from God?). I was on backup call that day, but did not find out about my on call status until well after I was already in Atlanta and, therefore, well after I had purchased my return flight. The schedule for the next 6 months came out when I was already in Atlanta. Backup is when you go in to cover a shift in the event someone calls out. You typically do not know if you will get called in until the day of. My goal was to get back to New York in time for any shift I might have to cover.

That did not happen. I fell short. I admitted that then and I admit it now. I was called in while still at the ATL airport. I explained the circumstances. I had neglected to put an extra travel day on my list of blackout dates. The request for backup dates came well before I purchased my flight to Atlanta and by the time I purchased my ticket, I had honestly forgot about the list of blackout dates I had provided. I apologized profusely and offered to go in to cover the shift as soon as my delayed flight touched down in NYC. I was instructed not to go in. I was to remain on call for the rest of the day in case someone else called out. Fine. I went on with the rest of my day and attended my assigned rotation. There’s just one thing:

That evening, I received a text message stating my consequence for not being available as backup would be to take a crosscover shift from the person who covered me. Consequence? No other resident had ever had a consequence before. For those who don’t know, a crosscover shift occurs overnight and lasts 12-13 hours. It is not comparable in length or stress level when compared to the short call shift I missed. I was told leadership had been “planning to implement” this rule and I would be the first to abide by it. I pressed on this issue: a plan is NOT the same as a policy. If the policy were already in place, I get it. I’d have to abide. That was not the case. To add insult to injury, there had been soooooo many residents before who simply refused to go in when called for backup. Re.Fused. They were not going to be retroactively punished, so why was I? The person who actually tried to make things right? I was told I was not being retroactively punished because there had been discussion of this plan to establish the new consequence for missing a backup shift. They just “didn’t know they’d have to enforce the rule so quickly” before they could email residents to let us know about it. Not my problem. Via text message, I continued to press on how this was not right. Want to know what happened next?

We all got an email around 9pm that night outlining the new policy. That email was not supposed to go out until the following day, but in an attempt to shut me up about retroactive policy enforcement, it was sent that night. Ain’t that something? The email about this new policy still went out hours after my infraction and well after business hours, soooooo yea enforcing the rule would STILL be retroactive. But the audacity to try to skirt around that truth by sending the email earlier than originally intended.

After what I had experienced intern year, I was so upset. There I was being singled out again. There I was being made an example again. Black women again came to my aid. After speaking with them, I felt encouraged. I felt empowered. I knew what had to be done. I responded to that email…and pressed reply all.

I wanted everyone on that email thread to know how I was being treated. I also copied administration. Trust me when I say I said it all. I ended the email by writing “y’all can retroactively kiss my ass.” *Don’t try that at home, kids. I even defined the word retroactive to help those who weren’t familiar. The following day, I broke down in front of the residents in my cohort. The weight of this entire NYC experience was just too much. It’s all too much. They were kind. They were supportive. They sent messages and emails on my behalf. Then and only then did leadership decide to let up. That day during residents’ meeting, my email was the first thing to be addressed. Someone mentioned I deserved an apology. Then and only then did leadership apologize. Why did I have to step out of character and put my situation on display for the entire residency before getting some respect and fair treatment? Why wasn’t my calm, level-headed, logical communication enough? Why did some still try to discredit me and some of the contents of my email after the fact? Y’all should know good and well I keep all my receipts. I felt so disrespected. I still do.

And when Black women do go off? Folks want to call us angry. We’re aggressive. Well, we have a lot to be angry about! Am I being unprofessional when I am again attacked or am I standing up for myself because you all backed me into a corner and wouldn’t listen to reason? I just hate when my hood tendencies come out at work. It’s always a tough day when ‘LaTanya’ has to come out and play. When an apology is rendered, we are so often expected to go back to business as usual; to be all love and light as if you didn’t just gaslight me 5 minutes ago and traumatize me for no apparent reason. We’re expected to be the same women who endured rape, had their babies stolen away, and went back to cotton picking the same day. The same women who nursed white babies, had to spend less time with their own, got their recipes stolen/renamed as “country cooking” (PLEEEEEEEEASE!!!), made pennies to the dollar, and were expected to mop and clean toilets with a smile. Back to work you go! I don’t believe antagonism toward Black women occurs because we are Black. I think it occurs, in part, since we are Black. People think “this is just part of their experience” and “oh, she’s used to struggle anyway.” There is significantly less courtesy, common decency, and respect for us especially at work.

And I’m tired of it. I have no more space for it. I spent the day after that incident wandering aimlessly around Harlem just reflecting on all the steps that brought me here and how I can survive 16 more months. Who can I trust? How can I alleviate stress? How can I maximize my focus? How can I let this go? All of this while learning how to be a physician. Can you imagine? I can.

I’ve been toiling with my feelings about this incident all last week and even this week. I’m strong. I’m an Ox of a Woman, but that hurt me. Workplace lynchings other you. They make you feel like you truly don’t belong; like you are just par for the course and not a respected, appreciated, integral part of the company fabric. And with how hard I work; with how hard I worked to get here, I don’t deserve to feel that way. No one does.

I find so many Black women are told they are anti-social at work. Honestly, why wouldn’t we be? And when we fully retreat and eliminate social contact so we can protect what’s left of our mental health? We are deemed difficult. We are unpleasant. We are hard to work with. We don’t participate. So many companies expect an Agreeable Black no matter the circumstances: you laugh at stale jokes that don’t make no sense, actively participate in convos when you don’t want to be apart, accept all invites to out of office parties, never speak up about microaggressions, turn a blind eye when other Black workmates are wronged, look at countless pictures of dogs without complaining. Companies want an Agreeable Black. If you’re not one of those, it’s over for you bro!

But what do we Black women do? We dust ourselves off, don that suit and Manolos or scrubs and sneakers, and charge it to the game. We still show up as our best selves and make folks tons of money. We still contribute greatly and selflessly. Oh yes. In comparison to our counterparts of other races, Black women who want to be top executives are more motivated by opportunity to influence company culture and serve as role models for others.¹ We carry so much weight with so little thanks and still find the time to put others on our backs.

I feel like I’ve been free falling for the past several days and I really am trying to shake myself out of it. I have a goal to accomplish. I have a future to live. And when I look back, this is going to be such a small blip in my journey. For the next 16 months, I plan to keep my head down, work to become the best physician I can be, help my patients to the fullest, and get the hell out of New York. Can you blame me? I know I’m capable. I know I’m strong. What I also know is this: I’m tired of living an existence that’s based off survival. I am doing my due diligence and research to ensure that feeling comes to a complete hault in 2024. And I’m grateful to know entrepreneurship is always an option. In my next season, I pray to God I can thrive in all areas of life and especially in the workplace.

Now y’all know I have some resources for y’all!

¹Lean In. The State of Black Women in Corporate America. (2020). Retrieved from https://leanin.org/research/state-of-black-women-in-corporate-america/introduction#!

Black Women’s Health Imperative Fair Work Initiative:

-Created a corporate equity index that rates companies based on fairness, safety, and equity

-Allows Black women to find anti-racist companies

-Puts pressure on companies to make positive anti-racist change by partnering with Black Women’s Health Imperative and by tracking progress

-Also includes Anti-racism Tool for Wellness to help Black women cope with and heal from discrimination at work

Therapy for Black Girls

How to be an Ally for Black Women in the Workplace

NAACP

Black women, I love y’all. We are Everything and More. Prioritize your mental health. And if it comes to it, Leave. Go somewhere you are protected and respected. Then share with the rest of us the location of that magical place. Above all else, keep bucking the system.

xx,

Photos by Sweetie Mensah