When are you good enough?
The decision to go back to school has been a difficult one. When I broached the subject with Reid, he was supportive, as always, but made me promise to step down from all the boards and committees. Slow down (like way down) with work travel. What he was saying was we can’t share you more than we already do. Something has to go away. While I agreed with him, I struggled with letting go. And as I worked (and am currently working - it is never-ending) through why this was so hard, I came to two conclusions: giving back is a large component of how I define who I am and that society has ingrained in me that I have to work harder because my accomplishments may not be good enough to get to where I want to go.
A pandemic and a new American uprising against the killings of unarmed Black people by police are changing our plans. As a thrice-graduate and a seasoned professional, my plans are changing, too. Like many black Americans, I’m tired and I’m once again, pushing through the fatigue and working three-times as hard because the accomplishment of graduation and work experience means very little in a society that devalues Black life, sending the ultimate message through a myriad of channels: you’re not good enough. You’re not good enough to work. You’re not good enough to learn. You’re not good enough to live.
Toni Morrison talked about racism’s power to distract- it’s skillful ability to keep you believing you are not good enough, keeping you from doing what you want – and need - to do and pushing success just beyond your reach. Racism manifests in deadly, distracting ways. It is blinding gas and piercing bullets. It keeps us scrolling and posting in search of redemption and easy answers. It steals words from our mouths and replaces them with heavy, lingering sighs. And while the enormity of fatigue weighs on me, I work to complete a third application for graduate school (this time for business, my previous two masters are in social work and public administration and policy). Determined not to be distracted, I fight exhaustion because society has convinced me that in order to dismantle the legacy of racism as an industry leader in philanthropy, what I have accomplished and who I am is not enough. But is it true?
The lack of representation in the workplace suggests that it is. When we look at who holds positions of influence across all sectors – the boardroom (37% of Fortune 500 companies have no black directors) c-suites (representing only 3.3% of executives in US corporations) and politics (only three black US senators and no black governors as of 2019), people of color, and especially black people, are woefully underrepresented. This is not for a lack of ambitious, educated and experienced candidates, a recent study by the Center for Talent and Innovation points out. The microaggressions that stem from implicit biases of colleagues, hiring managers, and supervisors create a wall for black candidates, where no amount of employment experience and relevant educational attainment can break through. What remains clear in the workplace: Black is black. And black is not good enough.
The same is true for women when we assess representation in these same leadership spaces. Google’s seventh diversity report shows modest gains despite their espoused commitment to increase female representation in leadership ranks. While women make up 51% of the US population, women make up only half of that (22% - 29%) in political leadership. The pandemic is reaffirming what women have always known to be true: we are essential. A New York Times analysis found that a third of jobs held by women are deemed essential. What appears to be true is that essentiality does not qualify us for leadership positions. When compared to men, women are often viewed as less trustworthy and knowledgeable, and not good enough to lead (see Hilary Clinton 2016 presidential bid).
When you are a person of color, a woman, or a member of a historically excluded community, at the end of the day, this is the tiring game you play: how do you combat the ways in which racism will distract, destroy and kill you, your path to success, your chance a making change or simply being happy? As a black woman, I am tired. As a mother of two children under the age of five, I am tired. As a full-time fundraiser for a collective dedicated to creating and disseminating black intellectual production, I am tired. As a deeply imbedded community advocate, I am tired. As I consider how I maximize my energy and fight fatigue that racism causes, and because I have seen the transforming power of an education, I know a graduate degree in business will give me the corporate access and acumen, but will it be enough?
