By Anonymous
In the last season of HBO’s Insecure, our main character Issa, quit her job at the fictional education nonprofit, We Got Y’all. From racist logos, to stereotypical liberal white racism, Issa came to the realization that many of us who work in the education sector often do—that she had no power in a white-dominated institution that makes violent decisions that ultimately affect the academic trajectory of Black and Brown children.
Like many of us, Issa knew that survival was not a strategy. We cannot and should not compromise ourselves to exist within organizations that not only intentionally disempower the communities they allegedly serve, but also oppress the tokenized hires they onboard.
As Rapsody proclaims in her song, Sojourner, “Yeah, I know my worth / these colonizers got to pay me…” Pay respect. Pay attention. Pay homage to the fact that their mission statements have emerged from work that we have been doing for years.
As a career educator who has repeatedly found myself being the sole Brown woman in white-only spaces, I can’t remember the last time I identified so closely with a character’s professional experience. From charter schools to nonprofits, on to higher education, I find myself fighting the endless battles of diversity, equity, social justice and, “please stop saying racist shit to me.”
Across professional roles, I have reported anti-Black behaviors of fellow educators only to be told that, “I need to make my colleagues feel less judged.” Years ago, as a school principal, I had to go through layers of bureaucracy to terminate a member of my leadership team who demanded that a student, “stop talking Black” and later held a secret meeting with the student witnesses to ensure their silence. Now further along the broken ladder of upward mobility in the education space, I regularly get asked questions like, “Should we say Hispanic or Latinx?” as if I’m the on-site barometer for testing assumptions made by education professionals who don’t read.
As educators, we are being way too gracious in describing nonprofit organizations as lacking diversity or by referring to universities as predominantly white institutions (PWIs). Terms like these miss the intentionality of such spaces to maintain racially homogeneity.
The time has come for us as educators who aim to shape the minds of young Black and Brown children in positive, fruitful, and affirming ways, to consider ourselves as activists. There is no gray area. Either educators are committed to dismantling the racial inequities in education systems, or we are complicit in maintaining them.
After spending twenty years in the education space, I’ve witnessed patterns of anti-Black behaviors from institutions that violate and demean Black and Brown children. I define these structures as Disturbingly White Organizations (DWO). They claim a desire for equity yet whose beliefs and behaviors indicate a polite indifference to the relationships between race, education, and leadership.
Spotting a DWO typically starts with its leadership. Leaders in these organizations will make poor, easily disputable excuses for why there are no people of color in leadership. They’ll blame an anemic applicant pool, regional or logistical considerations, and more. Yet, they’ll fail to devise strategies towards reversing this trend.
The leadership team will perceive racial equity work as a threat to their brand and program quality. There will be an uproar around their lack of capacity given all the other ongoing initiatives and projects, demonstrating their belief that such work is additional and burdensome, and not integral and necessary.
Leadership will share a desire to diversify their staff but will continue to hire from their networks of people that look like, think like, and agree with them. The organization is not able to distinguish between diversity and inclusion (their most preferred terms) and justice and equity. They will use the terms interchangeably, preferring to use diversity which is safer for public consumption.
The lack of deep understanding about the pervasiveness of anti-Blackness and racism obviously enables lackluster responses to internal racist incidents. Instead of correction and repair, the assumption of “positive intent” becomes biblical and flat terms like “agree to disagree” becomes verse. Such language serves as a protective film over maintaining the day to day art of “gentle” racism in the workplace.
For Black and Brown educators, attempting to get past the experiences of working within DWOs is an exercise in futility. The only remedy is to exit.
Leave defiantly and make it clear that this was not a safe space for you. Trying to fight a DWO will only fuel your frustration while little, if any behaviors or practices, change or rectify. You will become a target should you stay and voice your displeasure. Your manager will tell you that you are not working hard enough to build relationships and learn from your peers. He will ignore your cries for help over being marginalized, tokenized, and othered on a daily basis.
Instead, we must take the learnings from this lesson and change how we identify the next organization we join. Develop a strategy. First, ask about their equity agenda. Don’t settle for rhetoric. Ask for specific examples, i.e. projects, partnerships, content creation. Force them to share what they have learned and what they are seeking to do better. Too often I’ve charged myself with being “the one” that would break the ceiling and hold the door open for the rest of us. Um, no. DWOs are designed to break us, not for us to break ceilings.
We must also explicitly acknowledge that they have few to no persons of color on staff. Let’s be upfront about the message this sends to us. Inquire about why this is the case. Listen for evidence of them taking ownership. Beware of excuses such as, “It’s our location.”
While completing a short-term project in Seattle and questioning a team’s lack of racial diversity it was implied that I simply didn’t understand the Pacific Northwest. Blaming a regional context is senseless, given that employers are regional leaders and fully responsible for staff composition. If they claim that they are seeking to diversify, ask them why. “What organizational outcomes are you seeking to achieve by doing so?”
Next, we must inquire about how we will be supported as the only person of color. Seek out information on previous conversations that the organization has had around race, power, and privilege. Ask about the challenges the hiring manager anticipates that you will face upon joining and how s/he will ensure your safety and success.
I had an employer call me before an in-person interview at an elite university to apologize in advance for the lack of diversity, stating, “This is not who we are.” That same employer went on to hire two white women and grant a leadership promotion to a white male within the same hiring window. Actions, not generic equity statements, tell us everything we need to know.
Finally, don’t settle for an organization that simply wants to begin a dialogue on race and equity. This is an immediate red flag. If they’re getting ready to begin, that means you are there to lead it. Don’t fall for it. I am often asked to agree or confirm race and equity statements via email. I’ve learned to have these conversations in person with the sender.
Putting something in writing can lead to having language manipulated and attributed to me. This gives the DWO leverage in saying, “Well, this was vetted by a woman of color…” This leaves me to engage with any backlash that may arise and allows them to shift responsibility for leading anti-racist work.
DWOs will defend themselves at all costs, using jargon, data manipulation, and intimidating staff surveys in an effort to justify their actions and inaction. Earlier this year, I was asked to complete a lengthy survey on race and equity filled with statements for me to either agree or disagree with. The survey was designed by a white man for a white audience with statements such as, “…we may vary in opinion on how often we should speak about race and bias…”
After naming that this made me uncomfortable, I was still asked to further explain my position on several statements. While I felt traumatized, he was able to walk away celebrating his efforts to “empower” me and give me “voice.” They love those terms because it reaffirms their power and reminds you of where you it lies.
What I’ve learned is that defying a DWO means remaining unapologetic in my own right and prioritizing myself. I must resist the desire to settle, withholding my brilliance from the organizations, boards, leaders, partners, and funders who continue to conspire to maintain the DWO network.
Suggested Reading
“How academia uses poverty, oppression, and pain for intellectual masturbation” — Clelia O. Rodríguez, RaceBaitr (April 6, 2017)
“A break-up letter with academia: Not your token guinea pig, show pony, or likable person of color” — José Alfredo Menjivar, RaceBaitr (May 4, 2017)
“Academia and the colonized coffee that fuels it“— Clelia O. Rodríguez, RaceBaitr (April 18, 2017)
