Shining a Light on Black Assistants: It’s Not Black & White

A Black History Month Collaboration by Bonnie Low-Kramen and Aaisha Joseph | February 1, 2021

Thanks to Contributors Spencer Casseus, Melba J. Duncan and other colleagues who care about having meaningful and respectful conversations between Black and White assistants to promote mutual understanding and positive communication. Your voice matters.

Important Note: The experiences described in this article are specific to the person’s particular circumstances and are in no way intended to over-generalize or stereotype. Everyone is a unique person whose experience belongs to them.

“7.”

This was the answer to the question I asked New York City-based Executive Assistant Spencer Casseus. The question was, “On a scale of 1–10 with 10 being the most, what is your stress level about your physical safety out in the world, on an average day?”

Spencer is 45 years old and Black.

“8.”

This was the answer to the question I asked Aaisha Joseph, an Anti-Racism Coach and former Executive Assistant. The question was, “On a scale of 1–10 with 10 being the most, what is your stress level about being Black in the world, on an average day?”

Pause. Serious pause.

As enlightened as I think I am on issues around discrimination, I learned a great deal from speaking with Spencer, Aaisha, Melba, and several other Black colleagues who preferred to remain anonymous. They will be unnamed for several reasons, but certainly one of them is due to the lasting trauma and fear over the events of May 25, 2020 when the murder of George Floyd happened in Minneapolis and brought issues of systemic racism to the forefront of American conversation.

One of these colleagues made a comment that took me aback and motivated me to search online for; Why is it named the White House? I had never thought about why that might hit a nerve, but now I do.

What I have thought about quite a lot is the word “boss,” which is derived from the Dutch word “baas.” It translates to the word “master,” as in “master and slave.” I wrote an article in 2018 called “Times Up for the Boss” and I raise these ideas in our Be the Ultimate Assistant workshops. Most (not all) of our students choose to find other words to refer to their leaders, such as manager, executive, supervisor, and leader, to name a few options. In the 14 countries where I have taught, every assistant agrees on one thing. Words matter. They matter a lot.

There’s another thing that I believe is universal about assistants. They are the implementers, the fixers. They need to know the unvarnished truth about a situation, so they can fix what is broken. An organization depends on them to do that.

In this article, I want to explore important ideas about race. My motivation is simple. Awareness, empathy, and understanding promote healing and improved communication. In my work with assistants and leaders all over the world of every color, I am profoundly aware that, despite the plethora of books and movies available in the mass media, we still have much work to do to raise true awareness that will result in changes, not only in policies, but in hearts and minds.

“Fight for the things that you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you.”
Ruth Bader Ginsburg

At the heart of all understanding is communication. It all begins with a conversation to connect with our shared humanity and to empathize. It is the rare person who cannot relate to feeling left out and ostracized. There it is. There’s the bridge of shared experience.

With the Black assistants I reached out to, we referred to “the talk,” that painful conversation that Black parents have to have with their children at some point that reveals the racism and discrimination that exists in the world. Yet when I think about the “talks” that White parents have to have with their children, it is typically about how babies are really born or whether Santa Claus is real. This stark distinction in childrearing highlights why and how, because of structural, institutional, and individual racism, Black adults are taught how to manage and navigate a world that sees them as second-class citizens.

In my talks with White colleagues and friends, some have expressed major discomfort about racism and say, “I want to do something and I want to talk with my Black colleagues, but I don’t want to say the wrong thing. So, I don’t say anything.”

Let’s fix that. I asked several Black assistants for help and I am grateful for their honesty.

Prejudice is a burden that confuses the past, threatens the future and renders the present inaccessible.
Maya Angelou

In Aaisha Joseph’s words

“As a DEI (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion) and Anti-racism Coach, I work with clients who have expressed the same nervousness around not wanting to say the wrong thing as Bonnie mentioned above. There are real fears around coming off as racist, insensitive, or inflicting emotional damage and adding to an individual’s trauma. However, in the words of activist Jean-Paul Sartre, while every word has consequences, “every silence, too.”

We show that we care when we take the time to check-in or speak up; and, it is natural to make mistakes — especially when seeking to become an ally to the marginalized. The truth is, we are all on a journey of learning, and most people are understanding of that — especially when you are sincere in your efforts.

Because this article seeks to highlight the unique experience of Black EAs, I’d like to provide a few examples of personal experiences I’ve had in my time as an assistant, how I felt overall working for four years in corporate America as an EA, and in some instances provide contextual data that connects the experience to the concept(s) of discrimination and/or racism.

Whenever I walked through the doors of my office, I was extremely vigilant and on high alert. I was keenly aware that both my appearance and my work would be scrutinized in greater depth than my White colleagues; and I was also always hyper aware that I had to produce at levels superior than those around me in order to be recognized by leadership in any meaningful way (and to be seen as a successful hire in the eyes of the company).

According to a study sponsored by Dove, Black women’s hair is 3.4 times as likely to be perceived as “unprofessional” versus White women’s hair; and, Black women were also 50% more likely than White women to have been sent home from their workplace because of their hair. It is for this reason I paid special attention to not only how I dressed, but to how I wore my hair as well.

Moreover, the National Bureau of Economic Research found that Black workers receive extra scrutiny from their bosses and are let go for errors more often than White employees. Simply put, we cannot afford to (1) be our authentic selves, and (2) make mistakes. This was a reality I carried with me in my mind and body daily.

Once, in a conversation with HR, we were discussing my workload and how many executives I would support (a number that I had previously questioned). The HR staffer quickly referenced the only other Black EA and informed me that she supports more execs than all of the other assistants at the organization and “never complains.” If I’m being honest, my immediate thought — which I did not express out loud — was, “does this look like a plantation to you?” The staffer’s words signaled to me that I was not to push-back and I should accept without reservation whatever was asked of me by the 99% White leadership team.

In an article entitled: “When White People Are Uncomfortable, Black People Are Silenced,” writer Rachel Cargle recalls the silencing of Black activist Fannie Lou Hamer (one by her firing) in her campaign efforts to encourage Black people to vote. Whether via words spoken or actions taken, there is a history of Black people being told to be quiet and accept things the way they are, especially when we attempt to speak up against injustices.

After negotiations with one organization, I ended up agreeing to the initial salary offered (knowing the position called for considerably more). During my first month, when I had finally met the CFO (a White woman), she made the comment, “I’ve heard so much about you; I hope you’re worth your billing.” It was at this same job that I was asked by HR for a copy of my college diploma as proof of graduation, which I later found out was not standard practice. I was already under paid and couldn’t help but feel as if her statement was rooted in this notion that Blacks are to be grateful for what they are given. And, although the economic disparity between White and Black individuals is quite clear and evidenced by numerous studies, that my salary was somehow more than owed. It was to me a treacherous kind of gaslighting.

Closing out my experiences, there is a phenomenon Black people know of all too well called “Pet to Threat”; and as an EA I have experienced this in the workplace more times than I care to recall. It describes when a Black person starts out being adored by a company, but once they begin to advocate for themselves and bring up instances of discrimination or engage in any activity that seeks to illuminate and solve for problematic behaviors, they are labeled a troublemaker, and seen as a “threat.” And oftentimes they are either fired because of it or quit.

I admit that these things and more have at times invoked sadness and anger, but I have instinctively learned to resist allowing either to show so that I am not labelled as “an angry Black woman.” This too is another phenomenon, and quite frankly, it is exhausting to manage and deal with.

There are many other examples I can provide, but more important than anecdotes, I believe, is the need to emphasize that there are additional undue mental, emotional and physical burdens placed on Black EAs that our White counterparts are not subjected to; whether imposed on us by leadership or our peers. And we are tired of carrying these burdens.”

“No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin or his background or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”
Nelson Mandela

In Melba J. Duncan words

“Racial barriers demand a vigorous response. I am convinced that our purpose is to recognize and acknowledge that fear controls our societal thinking and robs us of our well-being. There certainly have been times when I have been offended by responses and reactions that could only be defined as racial.

However, as Executive Assistants, we preserve human dignity if we acquire and demonstrate intellectual global skills, offer the best service that we are able to provide, and advance our careers by continuing to learn and apply new, competitive skills. I have had the opportunity to work as the Chief Assistant to two powerful CEOs; and to create The Duncan Group, Inc. 35 years ago with the help of one of the CEOs and another independent CEO, who continues to be a resource to this day. The foundation of our business relies on our ability to interact with global CEOs and companies to provide the services for which we have gained acknowledgment.

I accept no responsibility for conscious or unconscious bias. That rests with the experiencer. My response is that this is someone else’s concern, but it is not mine. To the best of our abilities, we must influence and control every area in our lives, even in the face of fear and racism. This is what competency looks like.

I am prepared to lead the change into a new way of thinking, of being.”

Anonymous Black EAs — In their words

“As women, we are intuitively mindful of our personal safety while traveling alone in ways that men are not. As a Black woman — it can be twice as daunting under certain circumstances. When I attend an off-site meeting in an unfamiliar, predominately White town, I will find out as much as possible about that community and the surrounding areas — especially from Black friends and colleagues.

If I don’t feel safe about traveling to an off-site meeting, I speak with my executive to tell him the issue. We either need to travel together or I get approval to order a car service. Or, I don’t go. And I make intentional decisions about how I dress in order to “fit in” and not call attention to myself. I wear flat shoes in case I have to run.

When I am driving to/from a remote destination by myself, I am always vigilant and have situational awareness to ensure my safety. For example, if I were to drive through an area where Confederate flags had a significant presence, I would consider that a warning and reassess my situation. But the sad reality is, racism isn’t always as overt.

I am not always in the mood to talk about race. I appreciate when others (White and Black) ask me first.”

“I have taught my children to hold their money visibly in their hands when they go into a store so it is obvious that they are going to pay for their purchase.”

In Spencer Casseus’ words

“What I want White people to know is that I am not a stereotype. I’m just like you. I want to know you, respect you, like you. Given a chance, we would find we have a lot in common.

As a Black man, I am careful to always have my identification readily available in my pocket in case I am stopped by the police. I do not wear a hooded sweatshirt when I go to the supermarket and tell my brothers to do the same. I see how White people look at me and sometimes I can see that they are afraid, no matter how well I am dressed.

It is hard being a “token,” the only Black person in a group. It is typical to be looked towards as the authority, the expert on all things Black. That happens to be a lot of pressure and stressful. Please don’t assume that about Black people.

I am currently looking for new work as an Executive Assistant in the entertainment business. It has not been an easy journey being one of the only Black male Executive Assistants in a profession dominated by females. I happen to be a talented and skilled EA with 18 years of experience but am often judged as an outcast by the color of my skin and gender before I get to prove that I am actually the answer to their problem.

When I am considering working for a company, I do my research on the website and on LinkedIn about others who work there. If I don’t see any Black faces, I don’t apply.”

It’s Time For a Conversation

As Spencer and I were wrapping up our call, I thought of one last question. I asked him how many conversations with White people has he had in the past year on the subject of race? He laughed and said, “Never. Until today.”

Therein lies the reason this article had to be born. Please be part of the solution and begin a conversation, even if it is messy. Admit it and do it anyway. Please comment on this article respectfully and thoughtfully. Please share it. Please use it as a way to talk with people from another race. Ask, what do you think? And then listen.

Let us choose to break the uncomfortable silence with intentional good will and an openness to understand, empathize, and act. The bridges of communication and partnerships will happen, and the world will change before our eyes.

“Real listening is the willingness to let the other person change you.” Alan Alda

I thank each and every person who contributed to this article and deeply appreciate your honesty and candor. If you are reading this and want to collaborate with me on another article, please write to me.

· Want to learn more? Here are some free Anti-Racism Resources.