Workplace trauma is real and as women of colour, you've probably experienced it
So many of our defining moments in life come from the experiences we have in the workplace, both good and bad. Many of us place a significant amount of energy, time and a deep connection to our sense of self worth to our work. As women of colour, our sense of community, belonging and the ability to truly thrive in the workplace is limited immensely by the representation we see, by how many of us are in leadership, how differences are managed and how welcome we are made to feel, and I suspect if I asked the women of colour in my circles of influence, most if not all would be able to quickly point to numerous defining moments within the workplace full of dangerously bad leadership, microaggressions and carrying the emotional tax of being seen but not heard.
So why is it that it’s taken this long for us to finally have language around the toxicity we’ve experienced? Why is it that at 41, I finally have realized the impact of the dangerously inept and manipulative leadership I’ve experienced more than once, realized the impact of the intentional and unintentional missteps of organizations I have been a part of? I think part of it is the awakening that 2020 brought to the world. A global pandemic that opened up conversations on mental health in a new way, the uprise of the social justice movement and marginalized communities finally getting the opportunity to be heard, in ways that were never afforded previously and suddenly we have a new language for the experiences we’ve been forced to swallow and take and it’s calling it what it is - workplace trauma.
You may need to let that settle for a minute as it certainly took me a minute to grasp the idea of calling those experiences trauma, but that’s exactly what they are and many organizations aren’t ready to admit they do harm nor are they equipped with the right knowledge and tools to help people, especially women of colour, navigate their environments from a safe space. The illusion that most corporations are in it for the good of the people is often shattered very quickly, especially if you’re a woman of colour and see little that makes you feel safe.
Let me put it in factual terms for you - in a piece titled The Hidden Cost of Workplace Trauma by David Lee he goes on to say that trauma can come from a single catastrophic event, such as violence in the workplace, or a series of less dramatic stressors which, through their cumulative effect, create debilitating psychological and physical changes. Cumulative Emotional Trauma is created by the combined effects of stressors such as demeaning work conditions, worker/job mismatch, prejudice, unclear job expectations, impossible workloads, abusive treatment by peers or superiors, emotionally draining interactions with difficult people, and job insecurity. Although not as kats-cliz-mik as a major violent episode in the workplace or a natural disaster, these factors chisel away at a worker’s sense of security, value and well-being.
When I’ve spoken to white allies in the past about the experiences of being a woman of colour, I explain it as some sort of hyper awareness equivalent to that of a woman walking alone at night in a park. Constantly aware of our surroundings, our differences and always on guard ready to respond to the subtle and not so subtle attacks on the mere presence of us. We can’t turn it off unless we’re in the company of other racialized women and our sense of safety comes from being in spaces and places where the colour of skin and our differences aren’t anomalies. Where we can take our armour off, breathe a sigh of relief and trust that our differences won’t be weaponized against us. That feeling is most amplified in the workplace where we are often amongst blissfully ignorant peers and leaders who haven’t had to live their lives being the other and where toxicity and workplace trauma run rampant.
And we’ve all seen and heard the headlines - Google to pay $3.8 million over alleged discrimination against women, Asians in 2021 and Pinterest employees protested against gender and racial discrimination at the company in a virtual walkout in 2020. And it’s not just a US problem nor is it just a tech problem, in 2019 a headline from the Toronto Star read: Passed over, bullied, mistaken for janitorial staff. Black women sue Ontario public service alleging systemic racism and there are many, many more. A sort of uprising of what Bloomberg Law calls the New Age of Employee Activism, the level of accountability levied against corporations is stronger than ever. Organizations are fearful of the consequences of cancel culture, not wanting to be seen as performative or in it for profit over people, yet at a micro level the day to day experiences of so many women of colour isn’t changing.
How many of us still have the experience of continuously getting our names butchered, of being on guard, walking on eggshells playing a constant game of assimilation so as not to stand out for the wrong reasons? Fitting yourself into a mold that wasn’t created or defined by you, dealing with expectations that are designed to discredit your existence and knowing that as women of colour, as racialized women our very existence is political and doing anything outside of the norm of the structures within our corporations that are designed to uphold white supremacy and challenge, question and oust anything that dares to be outside of that norm, means we are most at risk. As said by George Aye on his experiences as a person of colour working for design firm I-DEO, so many traits of white supremacy culture have been rebranded as professionalism. Perfectionism, a perpetual sense of urgency, paternalism, power hoarding, fear of open conflict, and individualism were proudly on full display. We all uphold legacies of people before us who fought to have our very existence recognized, our ability to vote, to hold gainful employment, to have the same rights and freedoms as our white counterparts and to think we can separate that history when we enter workplaces that were never designed for us to thrive means we aren’t being honest with ourselves about the battles we face or the sheer challenges that lay in front of us.
I’ve been through the gamut of scenarios that make it incredibly difficult to transfer the ownership of my imposter syndrome from myself over to the organizations that have failed to create environments where women that look like me can actually thrive. I’ve been called entitled for advocating for myself, told I made too much money upon first meeting a new boss, been called numerous versions of my name completely removed from any semblance of my own by those that should know better, been mistaken for the only other racialized woman on my larger HR team by a senior executive and much, much more. While these don’t seem like a big deal they chip away each and every time at that small semblance of belonging, of feeling fully seen and acknowledged, of being able to fully contribute because I’m constantly on guard trying not to have my very existence discredited. And my experiences literally pale in comparison to the stories and the journeys I have witnessed of colleagues, friends and those within my network. Sadly, I’m one of the lucky ones.
And let me confirm something for you - it’s not in our heads. A study completed in 2019 by Catalyst in association with Ascend Canada reported people of colour try to downplay aspects of their identity to shield themselves from bias. Some said they avoid wearing cultural clothing, make an extra effort to temper their language or try to appear older to counter the emotional tax, and that Canadian people of colour carry an extra weight at work that’s so significant that it impacts their health and often causes them to contemplate quitting. Further, on top of the tax, they often face hiring biases, a wage gap, lower levels of employment, and less representation in leadership and executive positions.
For so many years I’ve sucked it up because that’s what a good Pakistani girl would do. Not rock the boat, stay in my lane, be grateful for the opportunities because they represent access to spaces and places my immigrant parents sacrificed to get us. As I’ve progressed into more senior roles in my career, and now as I get the privilege of leading diversity and inclusion work for my organization, I ask myself why should the onus of defence against microaggressions and traumatic workplace experiences be placed on people of colour and how can organizations do a better job of acknowledging and counteracting these experiences? My aim is always to seek out root causes and address systemic issues that perpetuate these experiences, but I’m just getting started and it’s a long road ahead that only really touches my own circles of influence and workplace, much like that of many other D&I professionals.
So what can you do if you’re experiencing workplace trauma, navigating microaggressions and simply existing as a woman of colour in a corporate environment? I have some thoughts that will hopefully help you start the process of healing and moving closer to finding yourself in an environment where you can actually thrive. I’m by no means an expert outside of my own lived experience, so I encourage you to seek out additional resources and reflect on your own needs to see what would work and not work for you.
First, I really think so much of the work is internal because let me tell you, even if you end up in an environment that allows you to be your most authentic self your past trauma will creep up. I still have fears of being fired on a regular basis based on horrendously inhumane practises of past employers firing people and reorganizing on a whim. Despite a list of accomplishments and success, I cringe at the thought of any performance reviews knowing that I have to be the most exceptional human that jumps through hoops of fire to make an impression beyond meets expectations and it’s taken me 41 years to get to a place where I listen to my gut and try my best to bring my authentic self to the job search process - something that has come from a deep sense of privilege afforded to me by, let's be honest, mastering the art of assimilation. I’ve spoken before on this platform about seeking mental health support to help you process, further validate the existence of your own experiences and give you tools to navigate them from a healthy and proactive place. Finding mental health support with a professional who understands your lived experience is non-negotiable in my opinion and often you can explore paramedical benefits that your employer offers to choose your own practitioner. If you have the option to explore this and it’s accessible to you, it’s the number one thing you can do to move forward in as healthy a way as possible. If you can’t, seek communities of support within or outside your organization - employee resource groups, external mentorship programs, even curating your social media feeds to follow and explore more women that look like you to access what is possible when you are allowed to thrive - all subtle and powerful influences that help you see more than your current circumstances.
Second, call it what it is. I think language has an incredible way of helping us to validate our experiences and creating space for us to reflect in meaningful ways. It is workplace trauma, they are microaggressions, you have had to play the game for too long and it’s not ok. Bestselling author Minda Harts in her newly released book Right Within notes that “The first step to healing from Racial Trauma in the workplace is to Acknowledge that harm has been caused. For so long many of our white colleagues have tried to tell us what racism is and isn't.” You taking ownership of your own experiences, articulating what it is, how it made you feel gives power to the opportunity to heal on your terms.
Third, know who to seek help from internally and how. I will tell you from working in HR for the last 10 years, most HR practitioners do not have the tools to work from a trauma informed place, nor do they often have enough influence to meaningfully advocate for you. Many HR professionals are empathetic, kind and get into the profession to do meaningful work, yet they work in the confines of company policy, legalities and are often at the mercy of the decision making of senior leadership. They are not your enemy, but they are also not in a position to do much for you unless you can come to the table with facts and evidence. Document everything, in the moment or immediately after making sure you have receipts where possible. It’s truly the only way for the balance of probabilities to lean in your favour.
Fourth, if you’re trying to be discerning about the next place you land, pay attention to the details when you’re in the recruitment process. How inclusive is the language used in their job descriptions, what kind of feedback are you getting through the recruitment process and how well does the organization answer questions like: what is the company doing to ensure a sense of belonging in the onboarding process? How does the organization support the succession and advancement of women of colour? What are you actively working on as a leader to become more effective and engaging? If they can’t answer these questions or do so from a place that feels authentic and unscripted, they likely aren’t an organization you will want to align yourself with.
Lastly, it takes courage to walk away from places that no longer serve you or where your mental health is suffering to the point of burnout, anxiety or depression and sometimes you need to cut your losses and get out, even without a backup plan. And honestly, it takes courage that some of us don’t have the privilege of accessing, so if you’re in it with no concrete way out, I hope the above tools will help you move through where you are. I’ll leave you with this quote by Paola Miglietta that resonated deeply with me as I was thinking through this episode - “my dear, never forget that the sun rises every morning, no matter how strong the storm was the day before.”
https://humannatureatwork.com/article/the-hidden-cost-of-workplace-trauma