It is certain, in any case, that ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have.

—James Baldwin, Black novelist, essayist, playwright, poet, social critic, and one of America’s foremost writers

TWO

Addressing Sublime Ignorance

“I just didn’t know,” opined corporate leaders during the wake of the 2020 Black Lives Matter rebellions against racism. They claimed they did not know that racism affected Black people so deeply. Now that we know, many vowed, we are committed to addressing systemic racism.

This was not the first time I had heard the embarrassed admission from top brass that they were not aware of the day-to-day racism that the Black employees face. Randall Stephenson, AT&T’s CEO, addressed the employee resources groups in 2016, after incidents of police shootings in several cities, including the widely publicized killing of Michael Brown, an unarmed Black teen, in Ferguson, Missouri in 2014. In a video that went viral, Stephenson, a white man, vulnerably and sincerely admitted his ignorance about racism to the group. He recounted a story of his Black friend of 30 years, a medical doctor, who had shared a video with Stephenson of a talk he had given at his church. In the talk, the doctor outlined incidents of being stopped by police, being called “boy,” being mistaken for a server in restaurants, and never forgetting to carry ID when jogging in his neighborhood. Stephenson said that he was shocked by his friend’s story and embarrassed that after such a long and close relationship, he had no idea how racism shaped the doctor’s daily lived experiences. The doctor’s story is all too familiar to many Black people.

This is what I call sublime (defined as “elevated and exalted”) ignorance. When many Black people hear stories like this, we do not know whether to scream, cry, or laugh. How could you not know that racism is alive and well in America and throughout the world? The truth is that white people are not required to know. As the dominant group, they can go through life with the privilege of never thinking about their race. Many white people still claim not to “see” race. If you do not see it, there is no reason to address it. You can be sublimely ignorant. Many admit that they do not know the history of racism in this country. Most K—12 history books gloss over, sanitize, or inaccurately portray the realities of racism, and if you do not “see” race, why would you take the initiative to study it? If you want to be antiracist, you need to have the knowledge. I refer you to some excellent resources, such as Ibram X. Kendi’s Stamped from the Beginning,¹ which was written to tell the true story of the history of racist systems in America. The 1619 Project is an ongoing project of the New York Times created by Nikole Hannah Jones, to re-examine the legacy of slavery.² Carol Anderson’s White Rage ³ chronicles the history of the entrenched forces that keep racism alive because of white anger and resentment. Black Reconstruction in America⁴ by W. E. B. Du Bois, The Slave Ship: A Human History ⁵ by Marcus Rediker, A People’s History of the United States⁶ by Howard Zinn, and The History of White People⁷ by Nell Irvin Painter all recount history from the perspective of those who have been oppressed, challenging some of the accounts in traditional textbooks.

Every client The Winters Group has ever had boasts that it is data driven and its leaders respond to statistics and facts. There is no shortage of data to prove that anti-Black racism is, in many cases, just as prevalent today as it was 400 years ago. I expound on current inequities in chapter 3. Why is it that it took global antiracism Black Lives Matter rebellions to wake the world up to these injustices? Those of us who are in the business of diversity, equity, inclusion, and justice, have been trying to get the attention of corporate leaders for decades, only to be met with resistance or denial that racism against Black people was still a key concern. “Let’s not make this about race. There are many other diversity dimensions that we need also consider.” If I had a dollar for each time I heard that, I would be a wealthy woman.

I am surprised (perhaps I should not be) by the questions I get from participants in various sessions on diversity and race. The questions often show ignorance of common concepts. The activists of this new movement are making it clear that it is not our job to educate the sublimely ignorant. One way to lessen the emotional toll and fatigue on Black people is for the sublimely innocent to do their own work.

Having said that, this book is a part of the education. If you are reading it, you are doing the work of educating yourself. In this chapter, I offer definitions and clarifications of some key concepts that may be new, especially to people in the corporate world. In the corporate arena, concepts like diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging are more popular than the terms that I define in this chapter, such as “racism,” “white supremacy,” and “decolonization.” “Diversity” refers to the representation of different demographic groups in the organization. “Inclusion” and “belonging” are closely related and refer to the action of creating work environments that respect and value the differences. “Equity” is defined shortly.

The Winters Group studies the intersection of corporate diversity and inclusion work and social justice equity approaches. To understand and address Black fatigue, it is necessary to grasp these concepts aimed at dismantling systemic racism. Corporate diversity efforts have failed to solve the systemic practices and policies that perpetuate inequitable outcomes, such as a lack of visibly diverse representation in senior leadership positions. I posit that the reason for this is that the rationale for corporate diversity focuses more on the “business case” than on social justice. The business case sounds like this: “Diversity drives innovation”; “Having more women in the C-suite drives profits”; “Diversity provides more opportunities to sell products to multicultural consumers.” In corporate spheres, we have mastered capitalistic language for “It is the right thing to do for business” but shy away from ideas that get to the structural, historical isms that would support “It is the just thing to do.” Using the business case as the primary rationale for diversity can be exploitative—hiring Black people will yield more profit.

Understanding social justice concepts will provide new ways of addressing diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) efforts with a racial justice lens. I call this intersection diversity, equity, inclusion, and justice (DEIJ).

Black Fatigue

I should first define what I mean by “Black fatigue.” The dictionary defines “fatigue” as extreme tiredness resulting from mental or physical exertion or illness. A secondary definition refers to metal fatigue, weakness in materials, especially metal, caused by repeated variations of stress. While the second definition is not related to human fatigue, I think it is apropos, especially the cause—repeated variations of stress. Therefore, I define “Black fatigue” as repeated variations of stress that result in extreme exhaustion and cause mental, physical, and spiritual maladies that are passed down from generation to generation. It is a deeply embedded fatigue that takes inordinate amounts of energy to overcome—herculean efforts to sustain an optimistic outlook and enormous amounts of faith to continue to believe “we shall overcome someday.” Repeatedly, I hear a resounding chorus from Black people I work with as I go from company to company consulting on DEIJ: “We are exhausted.”

Race

For those who deny race, let me share its meaning and manifestation. Race is a social construct developed by dominant groups to categorize people by physical characteristics, mainly skin color. While there is no biological basis for these distinctions, those who identify or were identified by whites as Black have been considered inferior to those labeled as white. Still today, inequitable systems carry out this belief through racist practices. As I said earlier, complicating the definition of race is the fact that many white people have been socialized not to “see” race, especially their own, which leads to ignorance and denial of racial differences. As mentioned in chapter 1, only 15 percent of whites think their race is important to their identity. Until more white people acknowledge that race matters—that “white” as a racial classification really matters—we will continue to be stalled in our progress. White people must acknowledge their whiteness. If there were no white, there would be no Black, and vice versa.

We need to get comfortable talking about race and racism and stop using our discomfort as an excuse not to. It only serves to perpetuate and accept sublime ignorance. Read We Can’t Talk About That at Work! ⁸ and Inclusive Conversations ⁹ for strategies for talking about race.

Equity versus Equality

“Equity” can be defined as the treatment of people according to what they need and deserve. This is contrasted with the more familiar term “equality,” which connotes that we treat everybody the same.

There is a popular image showing three children trying to view a baseball game over a fence. In the first picture in figure 2.1, each child is standing on the same size box. However, the tallest child does not need a box, and the smallest child still cannot see because the box is not high enough to accommodate her needs. In the first picture, each child is treated equally but not equitably. In the second picture, equity, the three boxes have been reallocated so that the smallest child is given two boxes, the next-smallest child is given one because that is what he needs, and the tallest child is not provided with a box because he can see over the fence without it. The third image, liberation, shows the barrier (fence) completely removed. Removing barriers is the ultimate goal.

Figure 2.1. Equality, equity, liberation
Source: The Winters Group, Inc. Art by Krystle Nicholas.

One client spent almost a year trying to convince the organization that it should add equity to its diversity and inclusion strategy. Other clients have admitted that they are still trying to define diversity and inclusion and are clearly not ready to introduce the concept of equity. If organizations cannot include equity as one of their goals, what, then, is the goal?

Racist/Racism

Many people still believe that racism is something that only happens interpersonally, not recognizing that while it does happen at the individual level, it is more insidious as a set of systems and structures that favor the dominant group (mostly whites) and negatively affect subordinated groups. Racism involves one group having the power to carry out systematic discrimination through institutional policies and practices. Similarly, we are uncomfortable with the term “racist.” Calling someone racist has become akin to alleging that they are a despicable person. And there is a difference between being nonracist and being antiracist. A nonracist is a person who has an inactive, passive belief that racism is wrong. It is one who rejects racism. Antiracists take a stand in their sphere of influence to oppose racism. For example, a nonracist might not tell a racist joke but would not intervene when someone else did. Perhaps the nonracist would even laugh along with others. An antiracist would not laugh at the joke and would go one step further to let the person know that the joke was inappropriate and offensive.

Some theorists believe that, at the core, we are all racists because we are part of a society whose very foundation was built on racist ideals and practices that persist today. Brain science reveals that we internalize racist messages from a racist society that become part of who we are—whether we are aware of it or not. Unless we are willing to acknowledge these realities and begin to use the term, we cannot address the racist systems that undergird our organizational practices. I know that corporations do not like to use this term because of the legal risks of admitting to racism. Notwithstanding that very valid concern, we must be willing to learn more about the history of racist systems that may still unwittingly drive processes and practices. We have to say the word to address the problem.

Most of the day-to-day accounts of racism convey individual-level racism and often fail to acknowledge the systems that undergird the issues. For example, we see media coverage of individual Blacks being exonerated after being incarcerated for crimes that they did not commit, and think these are isolated instances. However, there is a much bigger system of mass incarceration that disproportionately affects Black people, which Michelle Alexander portrays in her book The New Jim Crow.¹⁰

John McWhorter, professor at Columbia University and contributor to the Atlantic, penned a piece in July 2019¹¹ that posits that the definition of “racist” has morphed over the years. He says that the term “racist” has become synonymous with “evil,” with almost the same emotional trigger as calling someone a pedophile. He believes that the power of the word carries as much weight in its “moral sanction” as the definition itself, meaning that if a critical mass does not think what was said was racist, then it cannot be so. One example he uses is President Donald Trump’s admonition that the “Squad” (women of color House of Representative members Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, IIhan Omar, Ayanna Pressley, and Rashida Tlaib) should all go back where they came from if they had criticism of the United States. All but one were born in the United States, and the other has lived in the United States for a long time. Trump’s fellow Republicans loudly and proudly declared that the president was not a racist (morally that would clearly not be acceptable), and therefore his comments could not be deemed racist. This is an example of how dominant group power works. Narratives that advantage them are accepted by the rest of the dominant group.

Individuals can be considered racist if they believe, in general, that their group is superior to other groups and they have a history of consistently and publicly saying and acting in ways that would confirm their convictions. There is also misunderstanding on the question of whether Black people can be racists. The answer is yes and no. At the individual and interpersonal levels, we can harbor racist views of other groups. We have seen instances of Black people being anti-Semitic. Intragroup racism is an aspect of internalized oppression where you hate people who look like you. Most critical race theorists assert that Black people cannot be racist using the structural definition, as it necessitates having the power to implement policies that negatively affect subordinated groups and Black people do not collectively possess such power.

Nonracist versus Antiracist

In the book How to Be Less Stupid about Race, Crystal Fleming, a sociology professor at Stony Brook University, says nonracists think racism plays out as extreme, overt acts, such as hate crimes.¹² Nonracists might proudly declare, “I do not have a racist bone in my body,” not understanding the entrenched structural nature of racism. Historian Ibram X. Kendi, author of How to Be an Anti-racist, said in a 2019 interview for the Guardian, “Proclaiming that you are ‘not racist’ does not require anyone to consider how they should fight racism.”¹³ It is not enough to not be racist; it’s important to be opposed to racism and demonstrate such opposition in your words, deeds, and actions. Antiracists do not sit on the sidelines and say, “Isn’t that awful,” when they see racist actions. Antiracists take a stand in their sphere of influence to oppose racism.

White/Whiteness

Whiteness is normalized in culture, creating an unawareness of the set of privileges associated with white identity, also known as white privilege. Whiteness theory posits that whiteness is the default of American culture, and as a result, white people cannot see the advantages of being white—so much so that many do not even want to discuss whiteness. In many sessions that I conduct, white people express extreme discomfort in talking about whiteness or any aspect of racial dynamics. As pointed out earlier, only 15 percent of white people say that their race is core to their identity. White people must engage in honest self-reflection regarding the messages, images, values, beliefs, and experiences they have encountered living in a culture that continues to prioritize their worldviews as the better ones.

White Privilege

“White privilege” is defined as rights that only some people have access to as members of a dominant social group. Intragroup hierarchies of privilege exist, with people who are part of the group in power at the top (white or Caucasian people with respect to people of color, men with respect to women, heterosexuals with respect to homosexuals, adults with respect to children, and rich people with respect to poor people). White people often deny that their race affords them privilege. I have heard white people say, “I grew up poor and certainly was not privileged.” On the dimension of wealth, perhaps not; however, racial privilege still exists. The key point is that people who are visibly “white” in complexion enjoy unearned privilege that, for the most part, they are oblivious to (sublime ignorance), unless they are intentional about understanding it. This oblivion or denial that such privilege exists is fatiguing for Black people. We cannot have meaningful discussions about addressing racism until there is understanding and acknowledgment of privilege. As an example, white parents do not have to have the “talk” that Black parents have with their children about how to respond if they are stopped by police. I explain the “talk” more in chapter 8.

White Supremacy

This is a term that is really misunderstood. When people hear “white supremacy,” they think Ku Klux Klan, neo-Nazis, white nationalists, and avowed hate groups. While these groups openly admit their hatred for Blacks, Jewish people, immigrants, and so on and are prone to perpetrating violence against them based on their beliefs that whites are superior and all others should be eliminated, they by no means embody the definition of white supremacy.

White supremacy is the ideology, whether conscious or unconscious—explicit or implied—that white people and the ideas, thoughts, beliefs, and actions of white people are superior to people of color and their ideas, thoughts, beliefs, and actions.¹⁴ It can also be defined as a political or socioeconomic system in which white people enjoy structural advantage and rights that other racial and ethnic groups do not, at both a collective and an individual level. White supremacy means that white ideals are the norm and, by default, every other group’s beliefs are abnormal. Just as the term “supreme” conveys, whiteness is “superior” to all others.

In the corporate world, white supremacy is most often demonstrated as heterosexual white male supremacy. For example, organizational cultures are built to favor capitalism, individualism, and the “right to comfort” and entitlement. As I mentioned earlier, the rationale for diversity often comes from a capitalistic mind-set: “We are only interested in diversity if it benefits what we prioritize—profits.” Individualism assumes that success is based solely on hard work without considering systemic barriers. The right to comfort may be expressed as not wanting to talk about race because it makes white people uncomfortable. There is comfort in perpetuating the idea of a color-blind world.

One of my clients shared a story that exemplifies what white supremacist ideology looks like. He attended a community meeting to discuss racism. He said there were probably 60 people at the meeting; 40 were Black and 20 white. He observed that the white people dominated the conversation, sharing their perceptions of how to address racism without giving equal voice to the Black participants. He said it finally hit him that white people just think it is normal to be in control of everything and to be experts on racism, even while admitting they don’t know much about it.

Dominant and Subordinated Groups

Dominant and subordinated groups are another way to understand white supremacy. Dominant groups are those with systemic power, privileges, and social status within a society, most often white people. Conversely, subordinated groups are those that have been traditionally oppressed, excluded, or disadvantaged in society, most often Black and Brown people, Indigenous people, women, and members of the LGBTQ community (for the purposes of this book, I focus on Black people). Dominant groups are considered the norm and, by default, subordinated groups are considered “abnormal”; dominant groups make the rules, and all others are judged by their standards. Dominant and subordinated groups are not equivalent to the majority and the minority. Consider apartheid in South Africa. Blacks were the numerical majority; even so, whites were the dominant group with the power. Note that I use the term “subordinated” rather than “subordinate.” The very term “subordinate” suggests inferior. “Subordinated” is more accurate, as it denotes that the lesser status has been imposed.

Oppression

Subordination leads to oppression, defined as the systematic subjugation of one social group by a more powerful social group for the social, economic, and political benefit of the more powerful social group. Rita Hardiman and Bailey Jackson state that oppression exists when the following four conditions are present: (1) the oppressor group has the power to define reality for themselves and others, (2) the target groups take in and internalize the negative messages about them and end up cooperating with the oppressors (commonly known as internalized oppression), (3) genocide, harassment, and discrimination are so systemic and institutionalized that individuals are not necessary to keep it going, and (4) members of both the oppressor and target groups are socialized to play their roles as normal and correct.¹⁵

I have observed oppressive systems in organizations that purport to want to create inclusive environments. The diversity office is often woefully underresourced to achieve the goals that are set forth. The oppressor group, in this case top leadership, defines the reality—the diversity office does not need resources to do its job; the diversity officer cooperates with the oppressor, which leads to Black fatigue.

This is the story of a very well-respected chief diversity officer (CDO) in a Fortune 500 organization:

As a CDO, I am always pounding my head against the wall, unable to have real and sustainable impact on our organizations. I have served in this role in three organizations and, in each instance, the senior-most leaders have convinced me that they wanted to advance D&I [diversity and inclusion] in their organizations and lured me in. Yet after about six months in the job, the honeymoon has consistently been over. Those budget dollars you are promised never come. You don’t have a seat at the tables where critical business and people decisions are being made, your recommendations for policy and practice changes are often ignored, and your work is always an afterthought. Once you bring to leadership’s attention the issues you have uncovered and the work that needs to be done to move forward, they get defensive and consistently push back, demanding more and more data and empirical proof that the experiences of their underrepresented recruits and professionals are real. . . . In the meantime, the underrepresented professionals in your organization are looking to you as their savior and are convinced you are going to save the day for them. Little do they know that you cannot! This conundrum has me very weary and I have become more pessimistic than I ever thought I would be. My days in this work are quickly coming to an end as I realize that it is killing my very spirit—I refuse to continue banging my head against the wall.

I have worked with this CDO, and she has been forced to play her role as “normal and correct.” She has shared with me a number of times how fatiguing this role is and even admitted to “being on the edge” at times.

Social Justice

“Social justice” is a term that, until recently, we rarely heard in the corporate world, except in philanthropy conversations.

Social justice means the way in which human rights are experienced in the everyday lives of people at every level of society and the fair distribution of wealth, opportunities, and privileges. Persistent gender wage inequities are a matter of social justice. As it was not a term that was widely used in corporate venues until the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020, I received many questions about what it means.

As another example of white supremacy, several white participants in sessions challenged their organizations on moving in this direction, asserting that they objected to the idea of “redistribution” of resources. It was not fair to hardworking white people. Integrating a social justice lens with traditional DEI (DEIJ) efforts will not be without controversy.

Decolonization

“To decolonize” means to free a group from the oppressive powers of domination. I honor the genesis term “decolonize” in its historical and literal meaning that signifies the repatriation and return of land to the Indigenous communities from whom that land was originally stolen. Many of us continue to live on and benefit from colonization, and this needs to be acknowledged and understood. I do not want to misappropriate the term. However, I include it here because you will be hearing it used more by social justice advocates. In social justice parlance, decolonization is about undoing white supremacist structures that disadvantage Black people and other marginalized groups. The 2020 Black Lives Matter movement is an example of decolonization efforts, as well as attempts to defund police departments that intentionally engaged in violence against Black people. Colonization is also a state of mind when we contribute to and perpetuate colonial principles. “Decolonization of the mind” refers to active resistance of “settler state” norms and resurgence of precolonial Indigenous practices such as natural healing practices and “we” (collectivist) instead of “I” (individualistic) culture. In DEI work, decolonization might look like the following:

• Centering justice, humanity, and the dismantling of racist systems over the “business case” and profit in DEIJ strategies.
• Understanding and embracing, rather than avoiding and sanitizing, certain language and concepts that are critical to understanding equity and justice, such as those outlined in this chapter.
• Decentering white comfort over necessary change. Corporate DEI leaders spend inordinate amounts of time on efforts to make the white leaders comfortable.
• Promoting white allyship and shared risk.
• Placing greater emphasis on healing and managing the emotional fatigue associated with being in this work and holding marginalized identities.
• Understanding ourselves as being part of a much broader social change ecosystem, and how that should influence how we use our power (e.g., how we spend our money and with whom we partner in this work).

SUMMARY

There is a lot of work to do to combat sublime ignorance, and it starts with having a deep understanding of racism and its devastating impacts. It requires embracing a new lexicon that puts justice in the DEI equation—DEIJ. To do so, there is a lot to learn, unlearn, and relearn. This book will provide you with the reasons for Black fatigue; how it manifests differently for women, men, those with intersectional identities, and children; and what we can do about it.