What stresses Black women out at work? Authors Hall, Everett, and Hamilton-Mason conducted focus groups across Massachusetts, New York, and Tennessee with 41 women to ask about that and coping mechanisms (“Black Women Talk About Workplace Stress and How to Cope,” 2012).
What Does Discrimination Look Like in Publishing?
While all of the stressors mentioned in the article (e.g., lack of mentorship, assumed incompetence, and harassment) may apply to the publishing and editing worlds, I want to focus on one finding that seems particularly relevant: Black women who worked in predominantly White environments identified isolation in the workplace as a stressor and codeshifting as a coping mechanism.
The authors situate this dynamic within the context of institutional racism, or “organizational policies and procedures that unfairly restrict the opportunities of Black Americans or that perpetuate advantages or privileges for the majority group.”
Norms of predominantly White work environments can operate this way. Depending on what area of publishing you work in, this could manifest as having a frame of reference for White culture, performing a certain type of wittiness or bookishness, speaking impeccable “proper” English, or always having a sunny demeanor/being more “relatable.”
In editing, our norms may even include ridiculing or openly shunning the language variants used in the families POC editors come from.
When I first started at my job (remote), I tried to bring my true, authentic self in conversation and communication. It was hinted at that I needed to watch my use of words and watch the way I communicate. As I slowly backed off of using non-standard English, I received less feedback about my communication style but more about substance. … [I]t was an uncomfortable feeling to “repress myself” in a company that supposedly championed being authentic.
— OTB survey participant, Black, Haitian American, female
When a Black colleague does not take on these norms, they may be seen as distant or may not be considered a team player. Black professionals may feel as if they are constantly on audition. While doing their jobs, they face pressure to show as little difference as possible from White norms.
All of these dynamics could lead to us as a collective wringing our hands over not recruiting or retaining more editors of color.
Discrimination and the Fractured Self
The authors called codeshifting an internal and invisible process that erodes Black women’s “sense of self, wholeness, and centeredness.”
Much of my own coping has taken this form. I have largely adjusted my behavior to get along. In the primarily White publishing contexts I’ve worked in (trade and academic publishing, public-interest nonprofits, corporate communications), I’ve felt the need to signal to my colleagues that I could blend in — and if I didn’t, I would have little to talk about or make folks uncomfortable. This is an isolating place to be in if you’re the only Black person on staff.
Now that I’ve become pretty adept at codeshifting (for better or worse), I often recognize a moment, as I’m getting to know a new White colleague, when I can feel/see them becoming at ease, recognizing that I’m a Black person who “gets it,” gets the lingo. This could be because of the kind of jokes I tell, the way I tell jokes, or just my allusions to something in White culture (when that cultural reference wouldn’t have been the first one I pulled if I were with Black people).
I don’t think my White colleagues know they are looking for these signals from me, but I notice when they get them and see me as someone they can connect with.
[T]he spaces I join are mostly virtual, and mostly full of white women. And the thing I feel most when I enter these spaces is *tired*. I’m tired of being “the only one,” and I’m tired of feeling like I don’t belong. [I’m part of] a BIPOC chapter of the Editorial Freelancers Association. … It’s exciting to have a dedicated space for us now, but I do worry that this effort isn’t doing anything to integrate us. We’re still “other,” you know?
—OTB survey participant, Hispanic/Latine, woman
Doesn’t Everyone Have to Put on a “Good Face” for Work?
You may be thinking, “Well, everyone has to gussy up a little bit at work. It’s part of the game.” The authors note that Black women change who they are fundamentally *so they’ll have a chance to make a living,* as opposed to a colleague whose demeanor at home may be a lot closer to their demeanor at work. According to the authors:
“African American women change the way they think of things or expectations they have for themselves. Or they alter their outer appearance. They modify their speech. They shift in one direction at work each morning, then in another at home each night. They adjust the way they act in one context after another. … They deny their sadness and loneliness.”
Lamenting this fractured sense of self once, when I had returned to the office after a visit home, I literally avoided opening my mouth. I kept a low profile for a day or two. I wanted to avoid having to turn that part of myself on again, to start codeshifting.
What to Do?
The authors suggest deconstructing the stereotypes held by White colleagues (and by Black people) and how they affect Black women. In the publishing and editing contexts, that exercise might start with some questions like the following for White colleagues and very honest conversations, with space to save face and learn from each other:
- What stereotypes do you have about Black people?
- What signals do you look for in Black colleagues to make sure you are comfortable with them?
- Do you think it would make you uncomfortable to work with a version of your Black coworker who didn’t codeshift or to have them represent the company? (If so, why?)
- What is one thing you can do to accept your Black colleagues fully in a professional context?
Want to comment on this article or on DEI in publishing? Take the survey or email me at Info@Outside-the-Book.com.
Leave a Reply