Angela Bruce Raeburn shares this piece “acknowledging the [many] women who wrote to me after I wrote my essay about being black in the [aid] sector.”
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Dear Angela, Your article…almost brought me to tears. Really. So thank you, for giving voice to so many of us.
I opened my email one morning after Devex had published an op-ed that I had written titled, But Wait Until They See Your Black face. I was flooded by emails from black women all across the globe thanking me for writing about the invisibility of black women, particularly in leadership roles in the development aid sector. Through their emails, I understood that my story did not really belong to me. It was not unique. It was the lived experience of black women breaking into a sector that had historically been almost exclusively under the purview of white men.
Some of the women who wrote to me were already [working] in the sector but none were in the top jobs or anywhere close to where they aspired to be. Some shared that they felt they were not given internal consideration for advancement opportunities. Others were just trying to break in to the sector, but were struggling to find an entry point.
The vast majority was frustrated with what they described as a casual racism that permeated their work lives on a daily basis. This casual racism, they agreed, was buttressed by the larger system where gender and race intersected, where there was an accepted power imbalance and everyone was aware of their place.
Many of the women talked about being undervalued, that their degrees and credentials did not hold the weight that they expected, that their ideas were only validated when the white male in the room repeated it, that their experiences were not held in high esteem by leadership, and many asserted that the goal posts for advancement shifted constantly. Others thanked me for calling out to an elephant in the room – this suggestion that the rising tide will lift all boats – that more women will translate into more of us sitting at the at the decision making table. Black women responding to the post unequivocally rejected that notion as a fallacy. Let us not pretend that simply adding to the numbers of white women in the sector will solve the problem – that is not diversity nor inclusion.
Dear Angela, I just wanted to let you know that I read your recent post on Devex and could not thank you anymore for literally taking the words out of my mind. It’s great to see women of color speaking up about our experiences and injustices in the sector. Thank you for your bravery.
I felt many things, but not brave. What stood out to me was the outpouring of angst – not only of gender realities, which is fraught with its own perils, but then you add race to the equation and black women find themselves constantly assessing their value. Are we ever going to be good enough?
What struck me in these messages was just the sheer exhaustion that accompanied the mental gymnastics required to navigate the humanitarian and development workplace. No doubt that black women are aware that racial disparities exist in every professional environment but it is particularly troubling in the ‘doing good’ sector. This is the paradox of humanitarian aid and development – the privilege of doing-good on one hand, in a system built on exclusion and systematic racism on the other.
Hi Angela, I read your opinion piece on Devex this morning. I found myself nodding my head throughout the read, because I could relate to many of the points you highlighted. Thank you for serving as a voice for minorities in the development field.
Was I a voice for minority women? I had not truly envisioned myself as such, but what these personal responses actually did was to embrace every human’s primal, almost excruciating, need to be heard. The piece being published meant that my education was acknowledged for what it was – years of studying and sacrifice especially from my black, low-income immigrant family, all of whom had a stake in my success or failure. My story spoke to black women who go out and obtain the advanced degrees in the subject matter, learn the foreign languages, spend time in the field working with civil society, put themselves in high-risk country environments – all so they can show their mettle, and yet find themselves unable to make that transition into executive leadership.
Responding to the hundreds of emails and responses to the op-ed was akin to opening the floodgates. Suddenly we were using a mainstream sectoral platform to break the isolation, and expose the truths most often discussed in hushed tones amongst us. Black women are accused of playing the race card, of being whiners and complainers, or not being team players – all the while losing opportunities to less qualified white men and women and still expected to smile and present our best selves.
We know that international organizations take diversity and inclusion seriously, but only in theory, not in practice. So when three or four white women gather in the office, it is considered as a routine meeting. But when three or four black women gathered for the same reason, it is a potential organizational coup d’état.
Dear Angela, phenomenal article. I was even brought to tears because I could relate to the anxiety when you know it’s for you, you check ALL the boxes, but then they see your [my] black face…
We are not treated equally. We must thus be careful, aware (hyper-aware even) of perception, of our tone of voice, body language, facial expressions, hairstyles. Yes, if any one is wondering, it can be debilitating. The aid sector is in dire need of more women in leadership, but black women are essential. Black women have a unique understanding of marginalization, where race and gender intersect.
And this can be transformative in a changing humanitarian and development landscape.
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