Kelli King-Jackson, ACC

Coaching for Black women leading in white spaces.

Black at Work

Black at Work: Putting Down the Badge of Whiteness

My mama’s fierce commitment to giving me and my brother a better life led my mama to sign us up for anything she considered an opportunity. I recently spoke about how she exposed us to every class, workshop, and educational environment she could find. Badges of whiteness. Symbols of being acceptable and respectable as Black folx living, working, and leading in white spaces.

Most of my experiences were firsts for my mama. She was guided by her intuition, love, and deep faith.

Looking back, my mama gave us the badge of whiteness.

I call it a badge because we could put it on and take it off.

I would be in white spaces during my schooling and then spend every free moment with Black folks. Black neighborhoods, Black church, Black music.

My mama always taught us to be proud of our brown skin. Our thick hair. Our left-handedness (yes, my brother and I are both lefties).

My mama wanted us to be proud but she did not believe in us thinking more highly of ourselves than others. She expected us to remain humble.

While knowing how to code-switch and successfully navigate white spaces is seen as something special to many, if we ever got too proud, my mama would make sure to set us straight. She would remind us to be grateful for the opportunities we had been afforded.

My mama taught us to put down the badge of whiteness. To not shine it or wear it like a precious jewel. She wanted us to consider the badge as a tool to provide options to a Black folx in America.

I love my mama for never making us feel like we were special because we were able to do well in white spaces. I am grateful to her for making sure we grew up proud of our Blackness.

I can’t speak for my brother but I can say that I struggled with the badge. There were periods of my career when I didn’t have a lot of institutional power where I wore the badge a little too proudly. I got a little carried away with the privilege that this badge afforded me. I didn’t realize it at the time, and while I didn’t wield the badge as a weapon, but I still caused harm.

I find it ironic that I am 20 years into my career and my focus has turned toward coaching Black women leading in white spaces. Now it’s my turn to help Black women examine their badges.

These days I support Black women choosing if and how they want to wear the badges. Many of them are questioning the badge.

They are asking: Is the badge as nice as they were told it was? Does the badge actually keep them safe? What if they take the badge off and lead from their Blackness, their wholeness?

As a coach, I don’t have the answers but I am enjoying being on the journey to freedom with the Black women.

Deep down I wonder if my mama knew that the badge was something that would serve us if we knew when to wear it AND when to put it down. What if my mama imagined a world when Black folx would not need the badge at all? What if MY role as a coach is to help Black women explore never putting on the badge at all?

While I have more questions than answers, just asking them makes the badge feel less powerful.

Black at Work: Black August

August is the month dedicated to Black liberation. The fight for the freedom of Black folx led by Black folx is the central theme. During this month, called Black August, folks devote time to dig deep into the history of Black freedom fighters. To sharpen their political analysis about the experience of being Black throughout the diaspora. To engage in reflection and action in support of our freedom journeys. Black August includes:

Black Business Month

Black Philanthropy Month

GIve 8/28 (Black Giving Day)

While this site isn’t a go-to for Black liberation theory, it is a place where Black women on their personal freedom journeys come for information and support. So I want to share a few resources that might help y’all deepen your knowledge as Black women in the fight.

  1. The Edge of Each Other’s Battle: The Vision of Audre Lorde (Documentary)
  2. Want to Start a Revolutions? Radical Women in the Black Freedom Struggle (Book)
  3. Liberatory Leadersip (framework)
  4. Design for Wellbeing (framework)

Even if you haven’t read any of the resources above, I hope you’ll keep reading.

Liberation. Freedom. For many of us, these terms feel impossible. Impractical. I mean, you work in corporate/nonprofit/government. You’re not the CEO. You’re not a final decision-maker. I know the script. I’ve used it on myself.

After all, I was socialized into work by well-meaning Black women Baby Boomers who were often the ‘first’ in their careers. They had to ‘get along’ at work to move up the ranks. Just getting the job was making waves was, so pushing for more was risky. Many of them felt anything but liberated. They did what they had to do and as a result, they opened doors that I was able to walk through. I am so, so grateful.

Here I am, forty years later still thinking I don’t have power and it’s actually not true. How I supervise, who I see as qualified candidates, how I invest in and support the leadership of my direct hires — are all under my control. I have agency. I can influence policy. I can make suggestions on ways to improve practice or just teach by doing things differently than my peers.

It took me a long time to mature as a Black leader in white spaces. The more I exposed myself to leadership training, models, and frameworks aligned to my values, the freer I felt. I was more than my Myers-Briggs, StrengthsFinders, list-making leadership profiles.

Before you default to the ‘but I can’t do that where I work’ reaction, I’d like to invite you to consider the following:

  1. What is ONE thing you can add to your leadership approach that would be liberating to YOU?
  2. How can you introduce a way of being to your team that would make those with less power feel more included/welcome/seen?
  3. Consider writing a liberation statement that will guide your leadership. Here, I’ll give you a head start: “As a liberated leader I…”

Working toward liberation starts with us owning the power, no matter how finite, that we have. If you are in any position of leadership, are supervising another human, have any decision-making influence or authority YOU HAVE POWER.

So I want to know:

Are you willing to use your power for the collective liberation of Black women?

Share your thoughts in the comments or on LinkedIn. I really want to know.

We have a lot of work to do but I hold hope that this (and every) Black August will be an opportunity for reflection and action that creates more liberatory spaces for Black women.

Black at Work: Leading While Grieving

I am counting down to June 2, 2021, the one-year anniversary of the Black square movement online. June 2, 2020, is the date the world decided to take a stand against the murder of George Floyd. Cities across the world shut down as people took to the street to declare that Black Lives Matter. In the weeks following, companies released statements saying that they didn’t know things were as bad as they were and that they did in fact care about Black lives. Online, the solidarity symbol was a Black square. You saw the square everywhere. Even folks who had never had a Black friend, colleague, or guest on their social platform put squares up.

For those of us leading in white spaces, those initial weeks were challenging. We were grieving. We had watched Black folks die on camera for a long time, but this was the first time that there was a collective acknowledgment of what we have been experiencing. And we were still expected to go to work. Many of us had leaders who spoke up about (in)equity and reached out to say they were with us. Others said nothing at all.

Still, we showed up.

Sad.

Heartbroken.

Traumatized.

Concerned about future Black recruits and staff, in addition to the Black team members already on board.

In the middle of a global pandemic, floods, fires, and freezes, Black leaders led their teams. We checked on folks’ mental health, made sure their kids were succeeding at virtual school, and fought the flames of Zoom hell. We helped our organizations examine how they could help more Black folks succeed in their whiter-than-white work culture.

All this through George’s funerals. As other Black folks were murdered. Amidst COVID infections and deaths.

We showed up.

Now here we are, in the year anniversary of the ‘racial reckoning‘ that we were told was coming. Other than some statements and some DEI officer positions, not much has changed.

We are still carrying the water.

We are still leading while grieving.

During this year, we have seen George’s face and the video of his murder streaming on every online platform. We relive his traumatic death almost daily. Knowing that we work for people who still do not understand. Supported the insurrectionists. Voted for a toxic, unqualified president and shouted false calms of a rigged election. Who watched boards of directors and supervisors hesitate to promote the Black leader on the team who have long been overlooked.

In the words of Mama Maya – and still we rise.

We have continued to support our teams. Serve on DEI task forces. And on and on.

Though not surprised, we have been disappointed by the outcomes of the letters. The investments we asked for have been limited. The promotions we were eligible for have not included the same perks as our white counterparts.

We have grieved the lies every day.

We have grieved the false promises during each staff meeting.

We have grieved the limitations placed on George’s legacy.

But the beautiful thing about us as Black folx, is we keep showing up. Because, no matter what, we want Black people to make art wherever we are. We want to show folks a different way to lead. We want to show what Black love looks like in action.

We do this though

Still Sad.

Still heartbroken.

Still traumatized.

We are still grieving George and all that he represents for our community. Despite our ongoing grief, we will keep advocating until we get the change we need in our organizations. We will keep sounding the alarm. We will keep showing up. We will keep speaking truth to power that is afraid of the Black leaders they say matter.

Black at Work: Psychological Safety

As we move from the first year anniversary of the pandemic to the first anniversary of the racial reckoning and murder of George Floyd, I am concerned about the psychological safety of Black folks at work.

Y’all already know I coach Black women leading in white spaces, so I write from that perspective. But trust, everything I write can be extrapolated to every protected class because no one is free until we are all free!

Everything I write, post, and listen to is to strengthen my skills as a coach to Black women. Through my own professional journey and bearing witness to theirs, I’ve come to understand that psychological safety is one of the biggest barriers to Black women being authentic in their leadership at work.

Psychological Safety = Whiteness

So what does psychological safety even mean? According to Amy C. Edmondson, psychological safety is a shared belief held by members of a team that the team is safe for interpersonal risk taking. Interestingly, though included in Edmondston’s study, organizations rarely address whether people on the team sometimes reject others for being different.

Why? Because psychological safety has been rooted in white-dominant norms instead of the lived realities of folks like women and people of color at work. 

It’s bad enough making a ‘mistake’ or asking the question no one else will ask; imagine doing that as a Black woman, a trans woman, or as a Black trans woman. Every trope placed upon us immediately enters the room and our safety exits.

Safety isn’t just what we say but also how we show up. The first time I had a coach partner say they never felt like they could wear their hair naturally at work I had to pause to acknowledge the moment. Not because I was surprised, but because I realized the sacredness of safety that she would tell me her truth.

I see you Black woman.

Our jobs take us over the edge some days with how we are watched at work, much like how it feels when we are walking through the store, going to the library — dot. Dot. Freaking dot.

Two sides of a corner wall with words about accepting differences and welcoming every person is painted in black and white.
Photo by Sarah Ardin

Black women want to be authentic in their leadership.

We are stressed out, overworked, and underpaid because our workplaces aren’t safe places for us. So why stay?  We believe in the work.  We have financial obligations.  We have become masterful compartmentalizers who wear masks all day until we can mentally check out at 4:59. 

Staying or leaving costs us and the organizations. If we leave, the culture change work that needs to happen at the organizational level doesn’t move forward as it should. If we stay, we often shrink back so that we can assimilate and integrate into white culture and have a chance to advance within the organization. 

When either of these things happens organizations miss out on so much Black genius.

We go to work expecting to experience gaslighting, microaggressions, or crazy-making behavior. In those moments we shut down or deflect. Either way, the emotional energy we put out takes a psychological toll. It changes us.

Just reading this Black women are saying, Sis! Get out my head!!!

When we show up as our authentic selves we bring joy, relatability, and skill. When we show up masked, you get a hard-working robot. You’re missing out on a depth to our strategic thinking that can take the team to a higher level.

Which do you think will help your organization with sales/outreach/partnerships more – bland Kelli or Kelli who works in color?

The world we live in is the most diverse in history. This means you need diverse leaders who can bring their lived expertise into your organization so it can thrive. Now is the time to do the culture change work of true inclusion. Without it, people of diverse experiences will not stay or show up authentically in your organizations.

Now is the time

In 2020, we saw organizations rush to put out statements and diversity and inclusion strategies. Psychological safety needs to be included in these plans. Without it, we won’t get far. Why? Because your Black staff won’t feel safe. The Black women I coach will continue to show up to our sessions tiredt.

The last 12 months have been rough on Black folks as we have navigated a racial uprising and global pandemic while trying to keep our jobs and companies running.  Those of us who have spoken out have done so under the cover of heightened media attention and the safety of being at home, on Zoom. 

As the world rushes to open back up and get back to ‘normal’ (inserts eye AND neck rolls here), many Black staff feel the tension of going back into spaces that are not psychologically safe for us.  We don’t want to go back to that hyper-polished and buttoned-up way of existing.  We are enjoying the distance. And we want to keep the safety. Can we count on you to provide it?