How to Be Black (11 page)

Yet for as much as I bonded with my black classmates and happily joined in the swarm, I also forged my own path based on interests that had nothing to do with race, and chief among these was technology.

My other campus job—I had several—was as a computer “user assistant,” offering technical support in the campus computer labs and to students in their rooms. I worked my way up to the advanced support team, which was basically a tech support SWAT team. When all others failed, they would call us in to solve the problem. To this day, I still get Facebook messages from college classmates asking me for computer support. I also worked a job as a software tester and was active in the Harvard Computer Society, leading its tenth-anniversary book project. But the activity that consumed the largest share of my time was the
Harvard Crimson
, the school's paper.

Back in high school, I had discovered a deep love for and addiction to both the consumption and creation of news. I worked part-time as a copy aide at the
Washington Post
, was an editor on the school paper, and devoured news in print, and on radio and television. The Washington Association of Black Journalists offered a weekend journalism program that I enrolled in, which bolstered my interest in the field and led me deeper into the world. We even got to visit the press briefing room at the White House, an opportunity I used to get a photo of myself behind the podium striking a revolutionary pose, naturally.

Presitunde.

When I told Ken Cooper, the then-director of the program and former national editor for the
Boston Globe
, that I was going to Harvard, he didn't hesitate: “Do the
Crimson
,” he said. I took his advice, and it was one of the best decisions I've made in my life.

The
Crimson
is a legendary institution. The daily has been around since 1873, is run by undergraduates with no oversight from the university, and claims some impressive alumni like Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the technology investor and philanthropist Esther Dyson, and CNBC's Jim Cramer (sorry!). The process of joining the staff is known as the “comp,” and generally people choose one department to comp: news, photography, graphics, et cetera. I couldn't decide, so I went with news
and
photography. Over my years at the paper, I had a chance to cover a wide swath of campus activity, from student protests to the dean's office to science and technology policy. Merging my technology interests with the paper, I became cochair (with Jennifer 8. Lee) of the first ever “online” department in the paper's history. What I especially relished was the opportunity to have input into the staff editorial, the paper's official position on affairs of the day. Sunday nights, I got to experience directly how diversity in media could affect what the paper published, through the mentorship of an older black student and executive on the editorial board named Dave.

In one of the first meetings of the Black Students Association I ever attended, older classmates warned us, “Don't talk to the
Crimson
. They're racist!” A series of incidents that had occurred before the arrival of The Nine Nine had led to a total collapse of the relationship between the paper and black student leadership. The advice I got was not only to avoid talking to the paper but also avoid working there. As a budding newspaperman, my missing the chance to work on one of the top college newspapers in the nation wasn't an option. Enter Dave. We would often be the only black voices in the room when
Crimson
staff opinions were being debated, and I saw how he dropped in bits of perspective and knowledge, strongly advocated for certain positions, and often shifted the entire room. By engaging internally, Dave showed me an approach completely opposite of what I'd been told by some of the BSA leadership. The next year, Dave and I made a joint presentation to BSA members, encouraging them to join the paper, not just to affect the politics but also to take advantage of the ridiculous opportunities the place offered. If nothing else, it hosted some pretty sweet parties and was one of the few buildings on campus at the time to have a solidly working television.

Sure, race absolutely played a role in my Harvard experiences, whether friendships, political events, or other. But in general, the beauty of my Harvard experience is that I could often just be a student without having to actively and continuously think of myself as a
black
student. Upon graduation, I was conscious of the fact that I could be me and thus be black but not have to be black in order to be me.

Upon receiving my Harvard degree, an overwhelmingly proud mama embraced me on behalf of her efforts and the efforts of those who came before, exclaiming, “We did it!”

How to Be The Black Employee

W
hen I graduated from Harvard, I considered three basic employment paths: journalism, grad school, and some combination of technology and business. Despite my intense devotion to the
Harvard Crimson
, my journalistic career path was derailed the summer before my senior year when I had to bail on an internship at the
Washington Post
due to repetitive strain injury, commonly referred to at the time as carpal tunnel syndrome. Basically, I had gone hog-wild with overtyping on all the campus computer and Internet resources, and my wrists stopped working. I couldn't type, write, carry a lunch tray, or turn a doorknob without excruciating pain, so that summer, I chose instead to do a summer theatre program. In terms of grad school, I looked at a few options, but there was no particular academic problem I felt so passionately about that I wanted to stay in a university setting. I was ready to get out! Plus, it was 1999, and Internet-related anything was hot. Kids were getting venture-capital money for adding the word “Web” to almost any idea, and the tech geek in me wanted to be close to that world, so, long before I worked full-time in writing and comedy, I took a job with a strategy consulting firm in Boston that focused on telecommunications, media, and Internet-related business.

It's hard to define what “strategy consulting” means to people who don't already know. Essentially, there is a category of professional business services offering “analysis” and “advice” and “strategy” to businesses that actually make and do real things. My role, especially in the beginning, was to conduct research related to ongoing projects and become a ninja with quantitative analysis and storytelling, using Microsoft Excel and PowerPoint, respectively. One upside of my years of service in this field remains an ability to make a spreadsheet do just about anything. At my peak, I could probably have built Facebook out of Excel. I was
that
good.

I spent roughly eight years, full-time and as a contractor, in this field, flying around the country, analyzing on this, strategizing on that, presenting in boardrooms, and participating in far too many conference calls. I've had desks arranged in an open-air bullpen. I've had cubicles. I've had offices with doors and
windows
. What I rarely had during these years was more than one or two other black people with whom to share the experience. And while I had experienced playing the role of black guy in a number of settings by this point in my life, Corporate America has a flavor all its own. For those of you who've done a tour of duty as a black person in Corporate America, I salute you. This chapter is written for you and all the brave souls who've served. For those who've served
with
them, this chapter is also for you. It's time for you to learn what it means to be The Black Employee.

S
o you got a job in an office, you're one of the few minorities and possibly the only black person. First of all, congratulations on having obtained a job. In this economy, that is amazing and makes you a superhero. Protect the job at all costs! Second, I'm so sorry for the awkwardness you have endured or will endure in this environment. Hopefully this guide will help you weather the scenarios ahead or give you a different perspective on those you've already managed.

In many ways this guide is related to the chapter on “How to Be The Black Friend,” with the difference being, your coworkers are not your friends. It's also closely connected to “How to Speak for All Black People,” so please review both of these chapters to adequately prepare for your role as The Black Employee.

The truth is, you have two jobs.

The first is the explicit job for which you were hired. This is the job you saw posted on the Web or heard about through a friend. It's the job title printed on your business card and in the company directory. It's what you put on your LinkedIn profile.

For the sake of argument, let's say the job was research associate at Optimus Research Group.
*
When you heard about this position, you were excited. Why? Because you love research, and you're good at it. You prepared yourself. You updated your résumé. You boosted your past research experience and added personal details that connect you to the type of research this job requires. You read the company's website thoroughly. You Googled the business and its customers. You may even have done your own research on particular employees, especially management. You are prepared to be an excellent research associate, and when you get the job, and sign the papers, and show up for your first day, that's a role you are excited to play.

The thing is, you were also hired for another job: your blackness. That's not to say you were merely accepted due to some affirmative action quota. If that were the case, nothing more would be expected of you than simply being black and doing Job #1 above. That would make you a research associate who happens to be black. No, you have another job with specific responsibilities far beyond inhabiting your skin. The people who hired you likely weren't even conscious of this extra job. It's not as if they had one meeting about your research skills and another about your blackness talents. Nevertheless, they expect great things from you, even if subconsciously. In Job #2, you will be expected to:

• Part A: Represent the black community.

• Part B: Defend the company against charges of racism or lack of diversity.

• Part C: Increase the coolness of the office environment by enthusiastically participating in company events.

If you interpret this job description a certain way, you might conclude that you have two, three, or even four jobs, because your blackness duty combines the roles of politician, lawyer, and entertainer. Now you're Jamaican! For the sake of simplicity and sanity, however, we will keep these jobs consolidated under the umbrella of Job #2.

Also of note, it is not a requirement that you fully embrace all parts of the second job. I'm merely informing you of the expectations. It's up to you to decide how good of a Black Employee you really want to be.

During your first days on the job, before diving into Parts A, B, and C of Job #2, there's something urgent you must do:
Spot the Negro
.

Like vampires and extremely rich people, black folk can sense one another. Use your Spidey Sense (Blacky Sense?
*
). Use your blackdar to inspect the workplace for signs of Other Negroes. They may be working security for the building. They may be in administrative support. They may be among the associate pool, or they may even be in upper management. Black folk can be anywhere. After all,
you're
here. But one of the biggest mistakes you can make as The Black Employee is to assume you are the only one. You were hired as a research associate, remember? So do some research!

If you find that there is another Black Employee, do not panic. Employ the CARS system, as in
Collect
information,
Analyze
the data,
Review
your options, and
Set
your strategy. Like dogs sniffing each other's butts, you will need to figure out what your relationship to this other black person will be. How black do you expect him or her to be and vice versa? Is this the type of person who feels threatened by your presence? Does this person even acknowledge that he or she is black? You must find answers to all of these questions. Your career may depend on it. For example, if you sit in the middle of the corporate ladder and the other black person is a blue-collar employee, the last thing you want to do is alienate this person. He or she probably knows lots of office secrets, has read discarded memos, and can either make your life easier or make sure your office always smells like rotten fish. On the other hand, if The Other Negro is above you and older, she may see you as a small version of herself and offer mentorship, advanced warning on promotions, or just good information about what to avoid in the cafeteria. These and all other black-on-black intra-office interactions can be plotted on the Inter-Negro Spectrum of Hostility.
*
Whether you gain or lose in these relationships depends heavily on where the other black employee falls on the INSH.

On one end, you have
The Chill One.

This other black employee takes everything in stride. She acknowledges you in subtle ways, occasionally offers advice, and is overall an easygoing presence in the office and in your professional life. At a company meeting, when there's a mildly embarrassing racial moment, the two of you subtly smile at each other, connect eyes briefly, knowingly, and then return to business. Sometimes The Chill One will display light hints of subversion, but it's nothing over-the-top. For example, when the two of you are in the coffee room, she might say to you, “Hey, we should just take all these white people's shit and burn it.” But then she laughs, and you laugh, and another coworker enters the room, asking, “What's so funny?” and without missing a beat you both say, “Tina Fey!”

My advice: if you encounter someone on the Chill end of the spectrum, be natural. This is the best type of other black employee to have.

At the other extreme of the Inter-Negro Spectrum of Hostility, you have
The Nemesis
.

This other black employee feels threatened by you. Everything is a competition. If you sign up for the community service committee, he brags about how much they got done last year. If you stay an hour late, he stays ninety minutes. He probably brandishes his education more than necessary, and he laughs too loud. He is naturally insecure, and your presence there serves to elevate his self-doubt further.

Do not respond directly to the competitive energy from The Nemesis. The best defense in this case is simply to do your job. You will probably find many opportunities to publicly undermine him, but don't. That's cruel. He's probably just scared because he's never not been the only black person before, and he's afraid you'll take his place. Take the high road. Be inclusive. Hopefully, with time, he will learn that there is room enough for two, maybe even three black people at this company.

At the very center of the spectrum you may encounter a type of black employee known as
The Denier
. This person simply does not acknowledge her race at all, perhaps hoping that by ignoring it, she'll never have to deal with any negativity associated with her race. While not explicitly combative with you, she's also unlikely to be a useful ally, especially if she ranks above you. It's not that she feels threatened by you. It's that she feels nothing. So she won't act to improve the situation at the company, either. Your best bet here is to accrue as much power in the company as you can so you can use your position for good and undo some of the damage caused by The Denier's apathy.

There's no guarantee you will be the only black employee, so I hope these descriptions help you orient yourself accordingly. Now, let's get into the details of your second job's requirements.

What Do You Think?

Your biggest Job #2 responsibility is to represent the black community (Part A). We addressed this function partially in the chapters “How to Speak for All Black People” and “How to Be The Black Friend.” Representing the race spans many roles, but representing all of blackness as The Black Employee is unique. When you're vying for the spokesperson role on cable news, that's a conscious act and desire. You know what you're signing up for. When you entertain the questions and assumptions of your white friends, you have the mutual love and respect of your relationship with them to keep you motivated and temper your frustration. As The Black Employee, though, the potential upside is far more limited. There's no media exposure. There's no friendship. You just get irritated. You didn't sign up for this. You don't want to do this. You think, understandably, that
this is not your job
. My goal here is to gently remind you that
yes, this is your other job
.

So when you're in the elevator and a coworker asks, “Hey, Tiffany, Jim and I were wondering, are you disappointed with Obama?” you have some choices to make. The Black Friend would be honest and might go back and forth with your coworker on the substance of the question, relishing the opportunity to learn and enlighten. The Black Spokesperson would check his teeth for leftover food, adjust his blazer, and present a nuanced theory on the effectiveness of President Obama versus early expectations of his term, then attempt to get on MSNBC that night to say the same thing.

What you need to realize before opening your mouth is that although this appears to be a question for you to answer, it is, in fact, a setup for your coworkers to share their own ideas on the subject and passively seek validation of their opinions from you.

In this situation, The Black Employee has three basic options:

1.
Avoidance:
“You know, that's a really interesting question. I haven't spent much time thinking about it, honestly. These quarterly reports have been kicking my ass!”