Then there were three…

My coworker was recently fired. I knew it would happen. I wasn’t sure when but certain that it would. After a time, I thought, maybe he would make it, but no. They let him go on a Monday morning, but not just any Monday morning. It was the Monday after Juneteenth, and not just any Juneteenth. This was the Juneteenth where the holiday celebrated mostly by blacks was declared a federal holiday.

I imagine he celebrated with his wife and kids over the weekend oblivious to what his fate would be that Monday morning. I saw it coming. I regret not saying anything. He continually made mistakes that his skin tone could not afford him. He was absent too often. He was untimely on deliverables. He worked from home too much. Stupid mistakes. Mistakes we don’t get to make.

This man, easily in his forties, should know the rules of the game by now, but perhaps he didn’t. Maybe he knew them but didn’t care to follow them. I fought with myself on whether I should warn him. I gave myself all the excuses not to. He has a daughter my age, why would he listen to me? He’s at a director level, why would he listen to me? Maybe he plays the game by a different set of rules? Instead of pulling him to the side, I did nothing. There’s nothing to say that by me talking to him that anything would have changed, but I didn’t even try. Most black people have an unspoken agreement in the workplace. If your fellow black person is in need or if they’re messing up, it’s our duty to help them. It’s our duty to help because no one else will. It’s an unwritten but undeniable truth and I didn’t follow that golden rule of sorts.

In the justice system, medical field, or in any aspect of society, blacks have to navigate life differently and Corporate America is no different. The “consequences” that apply to whites don’t apply to blacks. There’s less leniency, less room for error. My former coworker moved his entire family here from South Carolina. He didn’t even make it with the company a year. With each passing proverbial head nod we exchanged, a way that we acknowledged each other, a way that we communicated that we see one another, I should have just said something.

There are several sides to every story. I don’t know how many warnings he received or what conversations took place behind closed doors. I don’t know if his termination completely blindsided him or not. What wasn’t hard to see were the looks, the whispers, the disapproving head nods. I saw them and I saw what they were in response to. Actions that would have been fine or less reprimanded had he been…someone else. Am I saying that the people I work with are racists? No. Are they unconsciously biased? Yes. The ‘unconscious’ part makes it even more dangerous because they’re unaware and that unawareness leads them to believe that maybe they did the best they could with how they handled the situation.

While everyone saw a man that was untimely on deliverables, missed work too often, and took one too many sick days, I saw something else. I saw a man who uprooted his entire family across the states for this job and had no adjustment period. I saw him struggling to build and integrate into our systems that crash every other day. I saw a man who was talented but was in a new industry that he had no knowledge of. I didn’t see anyone offer him training, and I don’t know if he asked for it. In addition to there being less leniency, there also seemed to be less compassion.

My boss took three days off a couple of weeks ago for a migraine and everyone was concerned and patient. Had that been me, I don’t believe the grace would have been there. They would have questioned whether if I were really sick. They would have wondered if it was that bad. Another coworker frequently logs on late due to suffering from migraines. No one questions it. Meanwhile, I haven’t taken a sick day since 2018. Sick or not, I know I have to show up. My absence and my tardiness would not receive grace, compassion, nor understanding, just like my coworker who was fired didn’t receive those things.

As forward thinking as my company believes itself to be, it severely lacks in any DEI (diversity, equity, & inclusion) efforts. MLK Day? No email, no recognition of his efforts. Black history month? Nothing. Violence against Asian Americans? More silence. International Women’s Day? Nothing. Then Cinco De Mayo rolls around and the office throws a huge party. I doubt they even knew what they were celebrating.

One of our founders often ends meetings with, “Go America”.. He says ‘Go America’ as if this country has not committed innumerable atrocities. Atrocities in the eyes of me and people like me, but not to him. His perspective, like most people’s, is limited and disregards others. His perspective grants him the right to say “Go America” in this tense political and racial climate. My perspective makes me wonder why murderers who kill children and unarmed men on camera often face no consequences from our justice system.

I’ve been “code switching” my entire life. I play the game well. It’s a necessary skill that all blacks need to be successful in Corporate America. My coworkers would never know the difference because they don’t actually know me. They only know the version of me which I present to be accepted. So, when the founder says, ‘Go America’, I fake smile through clenched teeth.

My parents always instilled in me that I am not one of them. I am not white. I cannot do the things that they do. I have to be better. I have to work harder. I have to be quieter. I have to keep my head down. I am held to a different standard. The standard that even though the game is rigged, I have to play it. My parents made sure that I knew that the world would not be kind to me.

Michelle Obama once said, “Twice as good to get half as much”. So I am better, but I receive no recognition for it. So I work harder, but nobody cares. I am quiet because often I am spoken over. Do my coworkers like me? Yes but, and there has always been a ‘yes but’ when it comes to black people. “Yes, you’re our top employee BUT it’s not time for the promotion” “Yes you’ve done amazing work BUT it’s not time (nor will it ever be) for that pay raise” Black people have been hearing ‘yes but’ for years. Yes, slavery in the traditional sense is over, BUT they never counted on creating space where we could thrive or feel welcomed, especially when the nation benefitted since its inception from the ignorance, suffering, and free labor.

There’s a saying that old black people often refer to. Navigate the Ebonics. “If you white, you right. If you brown, you can hang around. (Referring to the brown paper bag test and people of color that are white passing) But if you black??? If you black, you gotta go back!!”

I am tired of going back. I am tired of being unseen, unheard, and disregarded. I am exhausted. I’m tired of going along to get along.

To my coworker that was fired, I am sorry for how they treated you and for not warning you. You were one of four black people to work there and now there are three.

To all the other people of color, to the other minorities, I am sorry. I know my apology doesn’t mean much. We all face discrimination and have been for so long. The way the world treats minorities and people of color is unacceptable. I wish that I could tell you that change is coming. While I am an optimist, I am not a liar. I won’t fill you with hopes of a better tomorrow when the track record is so poor. This is not a speech to motivate you. I just wanted to acknowledge that you’re not alone.