Exploring Anti-Blackness in Tech
A glimpse into some of the challenges Black technologists face, through the lens of 4 /dev/color A* Members
The recent resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement has sparked discourse on the realities of everyday Black life. Still, the Black experience in the tech industry has remained a relatively untouched subject.
I recently had the opportunity to interview some /dev/color A* members about their experiences in tech. I’ve reproduced here a comparative account of the interviews to offer a glimpse into the types of challenges Black technologists commonly face in the industry. San Francisco-based A*member and senior engineering manager Mike Lee, sums up the significance of this undertaking saying, “As Black people in tech, we have a duty to share our experiences, to strengthen and enrich the greater conversation of what it means to be Black in all walks of life.”
“As Black people in tech, we have a duty to share our experiences, to strengthen and enrich the greater conversation of what it means to be Black in all walks of life.”
Disproving Stereotypes
Every engineer I interviewed is familiar with the burden of disproving racial stereotypes in the workplace. The exercise was described as “a daily thing for me,” by Seattle-based A* member Greg Flowers Jr.
Greg is originally from Florida, where he developed a “tough skin” and Southern accent. His look and accent have been met, in the Pacific Northwest, with the assertion, “You’re not from around here.” When his mere presence is met with suspicious reactions in the workplace, it’s hard for Greg to feel a sense of belonging.
“Walking into the building and having to explain myself is a job in and of itself,” Greg tells me. The extra burden makes it feel like he’s worked four to five jobs by the end of one workday.
Stereotypes don’t discriminate based on experience, as confirmed by one senior engineer, wishing to remain anonymous, who boasts 20 years of chip design experience. This engineer has worked at two of the biggest Electronic Design Automation companies in the world, and still feels the need to prove themselves, namely, “that I’m competent, or that I’m not a threat.”
When someone, as experienced as this member, asks a question, it’s obviously not a sign of incompetence. Yet they recall a time onboarding at a new and unfamiliar organization when their clarifying questions were met with frustration and judgment. They would later hear themselves described as “just asking a bunch of stupid questions.”
Ironically, this same engineer, thought of as incompetent despite 20 years of industry experience, was later regarded as too competent — a threat — at an Advanced Processor Lab (APL). They found that the APL overhead “constructively tried to get me out of there,” by giving them extra work nobody else had to do, and, when that didn’t work, taking all of their assignments away.
If navigating the toll of being stereotyped wasn’t enough, the members have found a lack of support from their peers and supervisors alike, while working through these challenges.
Lack of Support
“We don’t see many people that look like us,” Greg tells me, questioning why employers wouldn’t actively seek out and support diverse talent. At one point or another, every engineer I interviewed has been one of few Black folks in their workplace. This results in being surrounded by many non-Black coworkers who, according to Greg, don’t always “know how to stand up for you when it’s time to stand up for you.”
While Marquita, an Atlanta-based engineer of about 15 years, has grown somewhat accustomed to being the lone Black engineer at work, she still says, “I hate being the only one!” She makes it a point to actively recruit Black talent into the industry whenever she gets the chance, having spent time volunteering with Black Girls Code, as well as recruiting at HBCUs (an HBCU grad herself).
Marquita is committed to addressing an issue that has endured for decades and spans many industries. Specifically, there is a dire need for corporate leadership to acknowledge the cultural, social, and historical realities of their Black employees.
The truth is, supervisors are more likely to hire, promote, and support employees who fit a familiar archetype. As a Black employee with non-Black supervisors, this archetype can often be exclusionary.
Grooming, as Greg puts it, is based on a so-called shared language. “And it’s like,” he wonders, “who speaks my language?”
“Grooming, as Greg puts it, is based on a so-called shared language. “And it’s like,” he wonders, “who speaks my language?”
Greg vividly recalls being told, “There’s no money in the budget” by his supervisor when he was due for a raise at a former company. By contrast, when Greg had previously asked that same supervisor how he ranked amongst his peers, he’d received praise. This praise amounted to lip service when the conversation of financial compensation was on the table.
“Nobody should have to fight for a [well-deserved] promotion,” Marquita asserts, having also experienced this firsthand during her time as a DOD Civilian for the Navy. Marquita recalls her manager doing “everything he could to make sure I didn’t get my promotion.”
The members I spoke with have observed non-Black supervisors promote talent in accordance with their implicit bias. They can attest to being compensated less than non-Black peers of similar rank at various points in their professional careers.
Implicit bias, as defined by Rinku Sen in her article, “Redefining Race in the 21st Century” is, “an unconscious form that determines our behavior, even without instruction to discrimination.” In the case of Black employees and non-Black supervisors, implicit bias could lead stakeholders to conclude “there’s no room in the budget” to promote outstanding Black talent before, or along with, their white peers.
With non-Black supervisors harboring an implicit bias against Black folks, Greg tells me, they’re subconsciously “working against you”. The only recourse, it seems, is to “hold it in, and think to ourselves: things will get better.”
Pressure
The burden of internalizing experiences of racial bias is an added pressure that often comes with being a Black technologist. It seems, for these /dev/color members, that this workplace pressure is ubiquitous.
For example, as the only Black person in the workplace, our engineering friends are sometimes looked to as thought leaders on issues of “mainstream Black culture.” Greg speaks of an unfair expectation to explain how you feel about “the culture,” regardless of whether or not you have comments to make.
Greg also senses the pressure to be flawless in his performance. “As a Black employee,” he tells me, “admitting vulnerability and wrongness is a whole ‘nother thing.”
Greg also senses the pressure to be flawless. “As a Black employee,” he tells me, “admitting vulnerability and wrongness is a whole ‘nother thing.”
As Greg maintains, there’s always the sense that Black employees don’t receive second chances. Being Black in tech, Greg feels, you can’t afford to waste opportunities, meaning the work assigned to you might take longer to complete because you’re double and triple-checking to make sure there are no errors.
When non-Black supervisors appraise their Black team members’ contributions, implicit bias, and an unfamiliarity with the Black tech experience can halt the career advancement of worthy employees. Taking extra time to eliminate the chance of errors, for example, may just seem like unreasonably slow production time. And this interpretation may be used to justify sentiments like “there’s not enough money in the budget” to grant a promotion.
Empathy & “Allyship”
Tech companies often advertise socially conscious buzzwords like “inclusivity,” “growth mindset,” and “emotional empathy.” But to Greg, it feels like “preaching without practice.” At one point or another, the /dev/color members I interviewed have all felt a sense of isolation working in tech. This can be deflating.
Although Mike’s employers have been outspoken about empathy, he’s had difficulty accessing this empathy when expressing concerns about race. On the surface, tech companies may be aware of the plight of Black Americans, but awareness is not synonymous with empathy. “Empathy,” Mike says, “is what makes a concept last.”
Mike elaborates with an example. In coding, he tells me, there’s a racist language that most engineers fail to question, the origins unknown. Specifically, independent and dependent servers in coding are called “master” and “slave,” respectively.
While every non-engineer he’s shared this information with has questioned why racist terminology would be the default, Mike’s coworkers had a different reaction. When Mike raised concerns about the racist language, his fellow engineers argued “they’re just words.”
Where was the empathy, Mike wondered. Why was there no consideration for how it might affect someone’s mental state to use this language when their ancestors had been forced into bondage?
While there was action put into place to remove these words from the software, it felt performative. The racist terms were still used between engineers in casual conversation, which demonstrated that Mike’s concerns didn’t register.
When it comes to issues related to the Black struggle, Mike has found, it takes significantly more energy to access empathy from non-Black folks. In his observation, members of the Black community are more likely to empathize with Black plight, regardless of whether or not they can relate to the specific challenge(s).
Greg feels the phenomenon Mike describes comes down to a matter of privilege. If you’ve been through a struggle that you see someone else in the midst of, he opines, you’re more likely to empathize. Whereas if society has always provided you with opportunities others don’t have, it’s harder to relate.
Greg recalls the time right after Nipsey Hussle’s passing when he was “feeling checked out” at work. To many, Nipsey represented collective Black prosperity, community, and love. His tragic passing gave Greg the sense that there’s a constant target on the back of every Black person, inescapable no matter who you are.
The weight of this thought was heavy and was visible on his face, which led to a check-in with his supervisor. When asked what was wrong, Greg did his best to explain, and was met with the response: “I’m trying, I just can’t relate.”
This wasn’t necessarily a problem for Greg. He expressed that his supervisor shouldn’t try to relate; it’s something you can or can’t do. And, he adds, his job was not to relate. Allyship doesn’t depend on having the same experiences as a marginalized group, particularly because allies often don’t. Greg suggests that allies should show up honestly and engage with their authentic thoughts and feelings. “If it’s genuine we appreciate it, if it’s not we don’t.”
Personal Responsibility and Growth
At a previous employer, Marquita was pulled aside by a Black coworker. “I just want you to know,” he told her, “you’re a unicorn.” She took this label to heart, explaining, “Unicorns can’t hide who they are,” just like “I can’t change the color of my skin.”
Marquita’s goal of the year is to uplift herself, both personally and professionally. Part of her work to achieving this goal includes refusing to code switch anymore. “I’m not gonna fit in a bucket to make you happy,” she states. “I don’t wanna shrink… It’s so much work, and that’s not my responsibility.”
I’m not gonna fit in a bucket to make you happy,” she states. “I don’t wanna shrink… It’s so much work, and that’s not my responsibility.”
Women (especially women of color) are disproportionately conditioned to hide certain parts of themselves, often labeled as “code switching,” in exchange for validation. As intelligent, creative, and honest, as she is, and with many more facets to her personality, expecting Marquita to “code switch” according to Eurocentric, male-centric standards would be a disservice to everyone.
Though, Marquita says, “it’s been a long journey,” to get to this mindset, she’s here now, and continually asks herself how she can level up. One way she has grown is by recognizing that she can be just as bold in the workplace as her white male counterparts. Another way she has evolved is by claiming her personal achievements as her own rather than solely framing them as “wins for the team” that she’s on. Marquita has also become increasingly more comfortable “tooting [her] own horn,” something she recalls being taught not to do as a young student.
For Marquita, leveling up also includes holding herself accountable to lofty aspirations. She credits her /dev/color squad for helping her in this area. “I needed the accountability,” she reflects of her squad, “but they’re also just amazing people.”
/dev/color Community
I interviewed a diverse set of engineers — reserved to outgoing, junior to senior, parents and non-parents — across different time zones. Though distinct in many ways, they all share an appreciation for /dev/color.
/dev/color offers a space for Black software engineers to find each other, the other “only ones.” The A* program encourages members to give and receive support, share experiences and resources, and hold one another accountable to ambitious career goals. Greg describes the organization, of now over 500 members, as an opportunity to connect with people who made it through the struggle of the industry, as well as those who are still finding their way. He refers to his squad of Seattle-based engineers as his second family.
As our anonymous engineer reflects on their “very lonely” experience in tech over 20-plus years, they value the /dev/color community. Marquita regards /dev/color as “something I did not know I needed.”
Concluding the interview with histhoughts on /dev/color, Greg tells me, “It’s great to be amongst a community of winners.”
“It’s great to be amongst a community of winners.”
Professional Black software engineers who typically reside near the San Francisco/ Bay Area, Seattle, New York City and, Atlanta areas are strongly encouraged to apply for our 2021 A* Program before our deadline at devcolor.org/apply.
Dakota Billops-Breaux is an ethnographer, researcher, and producer engaged in social justice-based data analysis and storytelling.
