Self-Advocacy as a High Achieving Black Woman
Like many people around the world, I’ve been completely obsessed with the Olympics for the past 2 weeks. It always warms my heart to see the best athletes in the world take the stage and exhibit the skills they’ve worked for years, day in and day out, to hone. That level of drive, tenacity, and sheer talent is so admirable and always brings a tear to my eye!
As a Black woman, I always love to see Black women win, especially on the world’s biggest stage. So, I’m always going to tune in to support and cheer for my favorites! Over the past 2 weeks, I’ve felt immense pride watching Black women be great in their respective sports. However, in witnessing all of the amazing feats of Black women, I also witnessed a heartbreaking and all too familiar phenomenon play out.
I’m a tennis fan and I absolutely adore Coco Gauff. She’s so talented both physically and mentally and I’m so proud of the way she has solidified herself as a powerhouse in the tennis world at such a young age. So, of course, I was excited to see Coco play in her very first Olympics and hopefully take home a medal! To hear the news via social media that she was out of the competition after losing to Donna Vekic was upsetting, but the video of Coco’s exchange with the umpire is what broke me. Watching this 20-year-old young lady advocate for herself after a questionable call by the umpire and hearing her reference the many times she has been in situations in which she has needed to advocate for herself in unfair situations felt so familiar.
I’m not a professional tennis player, I don’t know firsthand the pressure elite athletes like Coco feel every time they step on a court to play, but I am a Black woman who has had to advocate for myself numerous times in spaces and with people who were not treating me fairly. Because of this lived experience and connection to the frustration and powerlessness that can come in those types of conversations, I wept. I wept for Coco, for myself, and for every Black woman who continues to exist in spaces that do not value or respect them.
In my private practice, I see high achieving women of color, specifically Black women and unfortunately, a common theme that shows up with my clients is self-advocacy and being invalidated, gaslit, or met with aggression when attempting to advocate for themselves. I am heartbroken every time a client shares a story about having to advocate for herself at work to receive the bare minimum level of respect her colleagues receive, or having to advocate for herself after receiving blatantly unfair treatment. This is especially heartbreaking considering the many factors that go into self-advocacy that take a toll, both mentally and physically on us.
Black women are often viewed as inferior, unprofessional, unfit for roles, angry…etc. and these labels have lasting impacts. Often, due to these labels, Black women (especially those in positions of influence) are doubted, minimized, and invalidated, which can look like receiving consistent and unwarranted pushback, being undermined or overlooked in the workplace, or being flat out disrespected and dismissed in the face of unfair treatment like Coco. Race based traumatic stress and racial battle fatigue are real and can show up for Black women who have to constantly advocate for themselves in the workplace and in their lives. This fatigue can have financial impacts as well. Financially, needing to self-advocate can show up in being overlooked for promotions at work, needing to put extra effort into making the case for a raise (even though you may more than deserve it), or even missing out on additional opportunities for income due to discrimination or oppression.
As Black women, we experience a marginalization that intersects at racism and sexism in a unique way. Yet, we continue to rise and persist and show up beautifully and unapologetically in the world. We break records, we defy odds, we get degrees, we own businesses, we lead companies, and we do so gracefully, beautifully, and excellently. What’s infuriating is that we also do all of these things while paying the added tax of being punished for our excellence with pushback, challenging, doubt, and invalidation. It can often feel like we’re screaming “Listen to me! You’re hurting me! This isn’t fair!” and not being heard.
So, seeing the tears streaming down Coco Gauff’s face as she said “There’s been multiple times this year where that’s happened to me — where I felt like I always have to be an advocate for myself on the court” felt way too familiar as I watched the replay of the match. I was watching yet another Black woman yelling into the void, desperately wanting to be heard.
I’m sad that Coco had to experience that in her first Olympics. I’m sad that I have had my own experiences of yelling into the void time and time again. I’m sad that this experience is not unique to Coco, and that I could give example after example of this dynamic happening every day. I’m sad that Black women in general have had to, and continue to have to, advocate for themselves on top of all of the amazing work they do.
It’s my hope that we continue to rely on one another for support and community healing so that we can continue to show up in the world and do amazing things. The first all-Black Olympic podium in Women’s gymnastics was another olympic event that brought me to tears for a different reason than Coco’s experience. For me, the image of these three Black women winning together, supporting one another, and being unabashed in their genuine respect for one another epitomizes the power of community, support, and respect amongst Black women.
It is also my hope that structures, institutions, and entities value and validate Black women for our contributions, so we have to advocate less and experience less of the physical and emotional toll of constant pushback and invalidation.
