Navigating Office Politics as a Woman of Color — whew, I was tired.
I remember my first (and only) corporate office job.
I was brought in as an intern, then was hired full-time just 3 months later. It was my first introduction to “Corporate America” and I was a rose-colored glasses-wearing new hire that was ready to dive into “life at the office” and climb up the corporate ladder.
I quickly learned that “life at the office” caused me anxiety and emotional turmoil every single day.
To give you some context, I am an Asian-American, specifically, a Vietnamese-American woman. Prior to working full-time, I was living abroad in a small town in Spain, teaching English. Race was not a new topic for me, nor was it a conversation that I shied away from. I read about office politics, watched it on television series, and I heard my friends share about it with me.
I thought I was prepared for office politics — practically bracing myself for it. But no one ever told me about the anxiety and emotional turmoil I would experience as a person holding a marginalized identity. And the effect it has inside office politics.
My case is not unique. Speaking with other friends who hold marginalized identities — whether being queer, trans, non-binary, or a Black, Indigenous, Person of Color (BIPoC), I realized that they felt (and feel) the same way I did, showing up to work.
Office Politics, Microaggressions, and Company Policies
If you’re unfamiliar with office politics, microaggressions, and company policies — let’s first explain what this means in my understanding and my own definitions based on my lived experiences.
Office politics are what we all go through, working in the office, at home, or even if we work for ourselves. It’s how we navigate through the office, based on who makes the decisions, how quickly tasks get completed, and what’s really considered a priority.
From my experience, office politics made working in the office miserable. I had to jump through hoops, work backward, undercut folx, and try to gain clout within different teams so they would help me. On top of that, as an Asian-American woman, my racial and gender identity did not help my case in regards to the “power” I held.
Microaggressions are statements, actions, or situations that are subtle or “unintentional” acts of discrimination against marginalized folx (ie: race, gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, etc). Let me just say, going from living and working in Spain to “Corporate America”, I thought I would have dealt with fewer microaggressions — I did not realize they would be ‘covert’, disguised as office politics.
Company policies as I understood them were not here to protect me (the employee), they were really to protect the best interest of the company and to make sure they retained their “great reputation”, no matter the cost. I did not believe that in the beginning. It wasn’t until I lived through multiple experiences, that I learned that HR was there to protect the company, not me.
From these definitions I’ve shared, I’m sure you can already see the effects of navigating office politics as a woman of color. This is just one person’s account. And, mind you, reader, I hold privilege as a CIS-het passing person, who is white adjacent as an Asian-American.
Additonal resources and reading: “The Effects Of Racial Burnout As A Black Woman” by Petiri Ira
Secrecy & Closed Doors
Knowing what I do now about co-creating belonging, diversity, inclusion, equity, and justice — there were many times in my previous job that this didn’t happen.
We had a “top-down” type of structure, where my manager, directors, and the CEO would tell my colleagues and me what to do, and we’d do it (or not). If we didn’t do what they asked or questioned and pushed back, they looked for someone else on a separate team to carry out the task. This usually resulted in being overlooked for future opportunities because I was now deemed “difficult”.
In one case, I remember one of my directors was planning an international business trip that involved different units. He had to pull together his visa paperwork, appointments, and the business material to make sure everything was prepped before the trip could fully be finalized. These were the types of bigger opportunities that my colleagues and I dreamed about — being able to travel abroad, host a training program, and be responsible for leading this effort.
I remember my director asked if I would be interested in working on this project with him and I thought “THIS IS MY CHANCE!” I was ecstatic. We had our meeting, which quickly turned into me being tasked with all the things he “couldn’t do” because he was “too busy” — so I was now tasked with chasing after others within the company, pulling his paperwork together, and being a secretary (not my role). I pushed back and said I wouldn’t take on these tasks.
That was the last time that I was asked to be part of any future international business trips.
From there, I remember there were PLENTY of closed-door meetings with the directors of our unit with my colleagues, who are white, that didn’t involve me. On top of that, there were moments where they would be brought into more challenging projects without my knowledge.
Now, what did this do to my nervous system?
A few things, now that I reflect on it:
- I got anxious that I would be fired for not “performing” to the same standard as my colleagues who were white (although if you know about ‘white mediocrity’ then you’ll know we “performed” the same)
- I thought I was “less than” because I was constantly overlooked for opportunities that I was equally as qualified for
- I questioned if I should “suck it up” and follow office politics, instead of trying to be transparent with everyone
Situations like this aren’t unique for other marginalized folx in the office — nor are they only applied to the office. These same practices of secrecy and closed doors are seen throughout systems of oppression like white supremacy and the patriarchy — think about it:
- Who holds power, if they know the secret?
- Who’s voice gets heard, when there are closed-door meetings?
Competing for something I didn’t want
The most tiring part of navigating office politics as a woman of color was the constant feeling that I was competing for something (I still don’t know what), but that I didn’t want it.
- Whether that was to be recognized by my manager and directors…
- Finally, getting an opportunity that was offered to my other colleagues before it was offered to me (sounds more like sloppy seconds in my book)…
- Or potentially moving units to a new team…
I always felt like I was competing with everyone!
Can you imagine waking up every single day, going to work to do your job, only to feel like you need to outperform yourself from yesterday and the person next to you? And if you hold a marginalized identity — balance those feelings with microaggressions, systemic oppression, and more?
Who’s tired already? I am!
This feeling of constant competition brewed itself from the top-down in our unit. With four directors making decisions, not very much work to be passed around, and a team of juniors who were questioning what was going to happen — it’s normal that we were ALL competing. The problem, however, was that the majority of the opportunities were given to others who were seen as “professional”, “well-performing”, and playing by the rules — while others (like me) were overlooked and expected to support.
Another example of this “competition” that was always lingering within the office was when everyone on my team had quit and I was the remaining support team. My directors called me into a meeting to talk about the future of my role, new opportunities that would be shared, and what my intentions were.
I thought this was my chance to be given those international business trip programs. Considering we did not have anyone else on the team, how could they pass over me now? (The rose-colored glasses were still on at that moment…)
I remember asking if I would be considered for these opportunities as a priority (considering I’d be working at the company now for 1.5 years, handled 30+ participants in a training course on my own, and I was the only person left — hah), before handing the opportunity to someone else.
And one of my director’s responses was to visibly roll their eyes at my question and then answer with a half-assed response.
Even being the LAST person on the implementation team, there was still a secret competition and an unfair advantage given to other colleagues outside of my unit, before me.
Quitting & Now working from home
After working 1.5 years in “Corporate America”, I decided to quit and pursue business ownership. I now work from the comfort of my home and can choose if or when I go “into the office” — which in my case, would either be a coworking space, coffee shop, or a friend’s house!
I do miss having a team to bounce ideas off of, coworkers to have lunch with, and meeting different team members with incredible stories — it was one of the more enjoyable aspects of working in the office and being on a team of “diverse” and “international” people.
Then I think about all of the microaggressions, office politics, and company policies I had to deal with:
- All the times my directors rolled their eyes at me when I asked about equal opportunities
- Speaking up about my fear of providing feedback to a director who threw a stapler at the wall (and then being told “it’s fine, we sent them to anger management, so you can share”)
- Team peer pressure to send BCC emails to our unit President and Director to try and get one of our directors fired (who is a Black person)
- Sexist comments like “needing to know how to sew to fix my manager’s button” — who was then defended by other women colleagues, because “he doesn’t know any better”
- Racist comments about my lunch meals and how it “smells weird”
- Arguing and fighting for my end of the year bonus that was removed (because HR told me the President of the company sent me my memo by accident)
There are plenty more examples, but I’m sure you get the point.
During my time in “Corporate America” and working in the office, I went to my directors often to share my concerns, to ask questions, and to ask why some others were receiving opportunities or recognition when I was doing the same type of work.
When my directors couldn’t give me answers and overlooked my questions, I went to HR to express my concerns. HR told me to “avoid” working alongside those colleagues that treated me that way, that “everything should be fine” because your managers and directors went to anger management or leadership training, and there’s not much they “can do”.
Did I feel like I belong, that I was heard and listened to? Well — what do you think? (I quit, remember?)
Now that I work from home (and for myself), I don’t deal with microaggressions, secret competitions, and sexist comments. Thinking about these instances and writing them again, I couldn’t imagine returning to the office and working with a company that doesn’t have a clear DEIB Strategy.
Would I return to the office?
No.
If I were asked to return to the office for another company, I would say no.
I do not want to put myself in that situation again — where I was anxious, worried, stressed, and on-edge every single day because of the microaggressions and “office politics” I dealt with constantly.
I wouldn’t return to the office unless I saw that the company had a clear DEIB strategy in place, that required folks of the dominant culture to go through certain trainings.
I would need to really trust a company to return to the office. And for me, to really trust a company again would mean I need to see:
- Proof that they are engaging in effective DEIB trainings
- Diverse benefits packages
- An HR department that actually protects the employee and not just the company
- Fast-action around any sexist, racist, or inappropriate behavior (in my last company, they required we provide proof, they did things behind closed doors, and protected others before the most marginalized)
My situation isn’t unique and I’m sure many other marginalized folx have dealt with similar or even worse situations at work. This is just one account of navigating “office politics” as a woman of color.
And wow, it made me tired — exhausted.
Looking to work with a Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging (DEIB) Consulting firm to co-create and weave belonging through every part of your organization? Schedule a call with Dr. Mega Consulting here.
