The Danger of a Censored Story
Our stories are the backbone of community formation and support. In striving to make our stories social media-friendly, our most consistent challenges have become accepted as the norm — Let us tell our stories as accurately as possible to benefit the next generation.
Something is Missing from this Story
Every day when I look through posts by diverse people on social media, I am often disappointed by the lack of engagement with themes of discrimination. I see people who represent the success of communities who braved horrific injustice both socially and legally; children who endured being the only melanin-enriched face in the room, adults who tolerated the backlash of disrupting the norms of offices, schools, universities, and neighbourhoods — brilliant people who have overcome much but seem to avoid acknowledging the remaining challenges.
- When invited to the staff ‘guess the worker from the baby photo’ quiz, did you laugh it off or think about the ramifications?
- When you tell the story of how you gained your position, do you mention the impact of being different to the team members?
- How often do you leave out slights and challenges from your stories as you have accepted them as not worth mentioning?
When we speak of the challenges faced by people labelled as ‘minorities’ we may consider the statistical reality of underrepresentation in the workplace, but this is simply the tip of the iceberg; the truth is that we are occupying white spaces. These spaces, where our stories take place, are also home to the many injustices and barriers we face.
The concept of microaggressions today encompasses the consistent and additional barriers to success faced by people labelled as minorities. The assumptions and injustices range from a member of HR receiving your application and discarding it upon reading your name, the receptionist who assumes you are there for a reason other than applying for the job, the management team who seems doubtful of your skills despite your resume, to the cashier who needs to check your bags and no one else’s. These events are crucial to our reality and are valid context to our stories of both success and failure.
Now, I am not an advocate of ‘everything is a struggle’. Our lives should not be reduced to the challenges we face; there is far too much beauty and success for us to do that. But the concise representations of life found on social media feel almost censored, hiding the truth from those whom it may benefit and those whom it may make uncomfortable.
Omitting the injustices as we express our lives in a public or professional setting is indistinguishable from accepting them as normal. It teaches the people who engage with our stories that these injustices are acceptable and not worthy of comment while letting the people who carry out these injustices continue without reflection or response.
As such, we must include these experiences in our stories, even if our personal experiences may guide us not to.
Where to Find the Missing Pages
Through our parent's guidance and stories, many of us were raised to work extra hard, to push through, to fight, to accept the unfairness but keep driving onwards. We were taught not to focus on the injustices, and now our successes shield us from some of the more explicit experiences of our parents and ancestors. Thus, combined with the fear of appearing weak or having our complaints discounted, we begin to omit them.
Though many of us have completed our parent’s request — we succeeded, we got the degree, we are professionals, property owners, educated and earning — but the space in which we are doing this is still a white space.
The terminal goals brought forth by parents undergoing their own challenges and wishing for their children to succeed were complex but limited;
- Go to school, so you succeed
- Don’t suffer like I did
- Don’t let my suffering go to waste
- Once you pass this, you will be fine…
- …We did all of that, so we are finished, right?
I understand that many of our families wanted to protect us — But the noise-cancelling headphones they put on our ears with good intentions allowed us to focus but not hear the monster still creeping in the shadows.
I hate to break it to our parents, but there is a lot more to do. We have not made it; we have only just gotten through the door — and if we don’t include this fact in the stories we tell, the people who come in after us will not be prepared.
So What is the Reality that we Face?
The famous Japanese idiom of ‘the nail that sticks out gets hammered down’ is a suitable description for the reality of many Black and minority professionals. Except, many of these nails sticking out are not meant to be hammered in. They provide opportunities for change in structure and how connections are formed. Yet, a builder presented with a nail that is different to the others will either brute force it into place, ensuring it is never in a critical position that could jeopardise the structure, or toss it out completely.
If they are forced to use such equipment, they may do so reluctantly, and it may become normal to have a couple of these nails in every project.
Even better, some bright spark builder might identify something that these nails are specifically good at, and from that point onwards, will expect all of these nails to fill that role.
But people are not nails, and their roles are not so predetermined.
People have voices, and by communicating their stories, they can consciously take steps to change them. Perhaps even a couple of builders might reconsider their actions or be replaced by people who are wise enough to utilise all the nails equitably.
I am proud of my friends and the communities who now exist in white spaces, yet I am concerned that their representations of their experiences will limit their growth.
So What Can We Do?
One of the first things we need to do is tell our stories as honestly as possible. Let us always acknowledge our challenges so that we can confront them and strengthen communities and support networks.
Let’s discuss the difference between a white colleague being misnamed and our experiences of being frequently called the name of the only other person labelled a ‘minority’ in the workplace. Let’s discuss the pain of having physical attributes and fashion choices reduced to your race rather than your individuality. Let’s discuss the marginalisation of expecting you to be good or bad at specific tasks based on how they identify you rather than who you are.
Is it damaging to acknowledge that you may be hired (or not hired) based on racial stereotypes in many fields? Such as the Caribbean dance instructor, Indian IT guy, Polish handyman, and female Geography teacher?
But what about acknowledging the opposite? As a ‘minority’, you are less likely to get a leadership position irrespective of your ability. Roles that go against the stereotypes will be more challenging to win. What about the Caribbean Geography teacher, the Indian dance instructor, the female handyman, and the Polish IT guy?
To be clear, I abhor such stereotypes as above and do not intend to offend with their presentation. I hope to make people aware of associations that are frequently and passively presented to us and the damage that they can do.
How often do we look at the environment created by our white colleagues and managers and simply accept it as normal? Thus allowing them to become ‘colour-blind’; passive bystanders who can claim innocent ignorance to the challenges we face. We must take the time to acknowledge the challenges we face simply through our very existence disrupting the norm — these stories will benefit the whole community.
Can Storytelling Challenge Injustices?
YES
Stories; the oral traditions of culture and history, the way we understand our journey and what may come ahead, and how we prepare our youth to go further than us.
Our stories raise awareness and present a continuous challenge to the injustices. Our stories prevent the racism and bias from hiding under a veneer of ‘they chose someone better’ or ‘it was just a joke’. It is story-telling so that others can be inspired and are aware that the discussion is happening so that we can take steps to support and encourage each other.
Never exclude from your stories why things are said to you and why things may happen, because if you forget — who will remember? Leaving your context out of your stories hides the injustice in the dark. Allow your stories to shine a light, and the light will draw others to you and be a source of strength.
Be visible, make your experience visible, be honest, and your honesty will expose and destabilise your challenges.
On a Personal Note
The toiling of my parents got me into this space and gave me the intelligence to understand and communicate the world for what it is. If I don’t share my stories honestly, the people who enter this space after me will be further disadvantaged. How does it impact the next generation when the stories told by the people in the positions they strive for accept white space as normal? How can I allow the professionals entering their careers to believe the space is now equitable, leaving them without defences or people to turn to when a negative experience occurs?
As a young black teacher, I was never told about the racism; I had to face it. I didn’t have someone to immediately turn to as it felt almost as if I was the only person living it, and the representation of the world online only confirmed this.
I remember supporting a friend through a harrowing experience and recognised that there needs to be more storytelling— a more honest and consistent narrative. If we cannot yet make this space safe, let’s share our concerns and known dangers through our stories.
I hope this article may inspire some honest reflection and critical consideration of the stories we are leaving for those who come after us. I truly believe in change, and our voices and stories offer more value than we can ever know — tell me your story, let your story represent, protect, and encourage — let’s move forward.
