You Owe Me an Apology
Bianca, here again with another sports related commentary post.
I didn’t watch the US Open. I find tennis quite boring, but I STAN for Serena Williams, and black women in general (unless you’re just a shitty person.)
When I saw the clips of Serena Williams standing up for herself and demanding an apology from the umpire in the US Open over the weekend, my chest immediately got tight.
What made me so frustrated with what happened to Serena, is that this happens to women, especially black women in the workplace, all the time.
A little about me…
I don’t love confrontation, but I have no problem calling someone out or speaking my mind if it comes to it. I’m a pretty mild-mannered person – that’s not to say I don’t get angry or frustrated, but I’m very calculated in my responses, and I’m very good at concealing my emotions, especially in the workplace.
Like many of the people I know, I work in a mostly white office. Most days, I try not to think about the micro aggressions, and I get by with sharing stories with trusted coworkers or friends who work in a similar environment.
Last year was a particularly shitty year at work. All year, I was tasked to work closely with our new AVP, managing a project that ultimately put our entire department, and the departments we worked with, in disarray. I remember one day getting a random meeting request from my boss – a white 30-something who had about 2 years of managerial experience and zero years of experience in project management. She made the meeting request very vague, which was the first red flag. When I met with her, she began to tell me about all the negative feedback she’d been receiving from my work, which was outside of anything she’d ever gotten from me. I remember questioning whether or not she actually believed the accusations, and very professionally expressing that she should know my character and work ethic at this point, and that I didn’t feel like she had my back. She immediately got defensive. For the rest of the year, up until my review and the AVP was fired, we had a strained work relationship.
For my review, I sat there and listened to all the negative feedback once again, unable to speak up because I knew how that would go based on our meeting earlier in the year. I needed this job. Although I disagreed with everything being said about me, from sending “aggressive emails” to not completing tasks, I just sat there, with a straight face, not saying anything. I was determined to not let her see any emotion from me. After not being able to read anything from my face, she began to use words like “strong” to describe my character. It wasn’t the kind of strong I would take as a compliment though, it was the strong that is used to describe black women when we “stick it out” in situations that are unfair. I knew this, and I still didn’t say anything.
This year’s review is coming up – and I’ve been going back and forth about whether to bring up last year’s, or if I should speak up about anything I disagree with this year.
However, Serena reminded me that I have a responsibility to speak up for myself, even if I’m labeled the aggressive (read angry) black woman. Vanessa De Luca (former editor of Essence), was quoted in an AP article about this situation saying, “It's about my integrity, and anybody who doesn’t get that is perpetuating the erasure that so many black women feel when they are trying to speak up for themselves. It’s like our opinions don’t matter.”
Today, I am demanding an apology from myself for not speaking up. It can be easy to sit back and take what’s given to you, and even easier to expect others to have your back. The truth is, no one will ever be a bigger advocate for you than yourself. I’ve been reminded of this truth in life, and at work. Thank you Serena for the reminder that we must demand what we deserve.
