Peaches, earth-tones, browntown. If you thought this list sounds like a row of paint chips at Home Depot, you’re not too far off: They’re private Slack channels dedicated to women, people of color, and women of color, respectively. I participate in these channels as a member of various Slack “workspaces,” though only one of those spaces is associated with my actual work. The platform is wildly popular not just for workplaces, but also for social digital communities that connect people with shared interests.
During my four years of using Slack, the idea of identity-specific channels went from being novel to necessary. Women, racial and ethnic minorities, and LGBTQ employees have always had to navigate the workplace in ways straight white men don’t have to, and these spaces provide respite from the emotional toll of constantly sacrificing your own comfort for that of others.
But those spaces are vanishing (and they were probably not that safe). Late last month, Slack implemented a policy that allows employers to read their employees’ private messages without permission. The fear of surveillance — and of the possible repercussion from employers who may not understand the need for such spaces — has already created a chilling effect on identity-oriented Slack channels. And while the new policy is probably best for companies and employees alike, the organic formation of these groups reflects the value of such spaces in the workplace — digital or otherwise — as well as a general need for more inclusionary practices.
If these dynamics sound a lot more lax than that of the average office, Slack has a lot to do with that. The platform’s immediate nature lends itself to more casual communication than your standard email. As such, Slack conversations are much more, well, casual. Run-of-the-mill business communication is punctuated by inside jokes, funny gifs, and calls for lunch recommendations. But it’s also a relatively private space for people to vent, commiserate, or share personal problems that may be otherwise difficult to share in the office. In other words, Slack offers white collar workers the opportunity to be human.
But humans aren’t perfect, and we’re all are susceptible to the social ills of a similarly imperfect society. And like most digital spaces, Slack can inherit the kinds of sexism and gendered communication patterns that plague our real lives. In “Your company’s Slack is probably sexist,” Quartz reporter Leah Fessler illustrates how these social patterns are replicated for women and people of color in Slack groups. For instance, some women — as well as the more introverted among us — are hesitant to contribute to Slack conversations for fear of being wrong (and looking stupid) or being too terse (and appearing cold).
Thus, women spend an inordinate amount of time modulating our communication with exclamation points, preemptive apologies, emojis. This should be no surprise to veteran email users, but the immediacy of Slack communication leaves little room to contemplate which smiley face emoji to use. (Should you use the passive aggressive smiley or the aggressively enthusiastic smiley? It’s a lose-lose.)
Conversely, women often feel pressure to respond to otherwise unanswered questions, requests, and contributions in group conversations. It’s a digital extension of the emotional labor women are implicitly expected to perform at work, like planning social activities and acting as moral support for their colleagues.
So it’s no wonder that women often break off to form their own Slack channels. For the most part, the conversations there are pretty mundane: You still get requests for lunch options, but with the added bonus of skin care recommendations and alerts for sample sales. But in my experience, women’s channels also tend to tackle more heady issues than other channels do: #MeToo is the most obvious subject matter, but it’s also fascinating to watch (okay, sometimes push) conversations about Taylor Swift from her new music to her suspiciously selective feminism.
But for women of color, an all-women’s group sometimes isn’t enough. For instance, when the conversation does pivot to white feminism — or when the white women in the group inadvertently engage in white feminism — women of color have the choice to either point it out and risk offense or ignore it, regardless of how much it bothers them.
And a third option, of course, is for women of color to make their own Slack channel.
Especially in less diverse companies, Slack channels for minority groups are essential to the emotional wellbeing of minority employees. Only another black woman would know to message me in solidarity when she sees the 100th white person ask me about — or touch — my braids, and it’s much easier to talk about news that impacts your racial or ethnic group with other people of color. In these channels, women of color don’t have to explain everything. There, we feel less alone.
That said, I don’t blame Slack, nor do I blame the companies for their strict privacy policies (or liberal privacy policies, depending on where you’re coming from). It only makes sense to do what you can to protect your company from leaks, or worse. And for what it’s worth, Slack the company is fairly successful in its own diversity and inclusion efforts.
However, companies can and should work to make up for the loss of safe spaces for women, minority, and LGBTQ employees. (And if you are a cishet white man wondering where your safe space is, here it is.) This doesn’t just mean segmenting off employees of marginalized groups to commiserate with each other or putting the onus on them to educate the rest of the staff. It also means facilitating an environment where there’s a universal, baseline understanding of things like implicit bias, microaggressions, and intersectionality.
Here are a few ideas:
You can also check out the work of the women we’re featuring today. Below you’ll find women of color who are working to make work safer and more inclusive for everyone.
- Hire experts like DEI Collective or Awaken, because I am not one.
- Have group lunches where staff discusses current events through the lens of marginalized groups. To ensure fair participation, implement a talking stick or something. Keep in mind that these are tough conversations for everyone, and especially for people from marginalized groups who often have to start by explaining and validating the most fundamental aspects of their identities.
- Host after-work book clubs where the books are not primarily about straight white men. In my office, we’re reading Sing, Unburied, Singby Jesmyn Ward.
- Invite speakers from diverse backgrounds to speak to their experiences as professionals from marginalized communities. However, make sure these speakers feel comfortable talking about their experiences through that lens; don’t blindside them with uncomfortable questions about their race, religion, ethnicity, gender, or sexuality.
- This may inspire some eye rolls, but please have some form of implicit bias training. Especially in more liberal, educated environments, it’s easy to take for granted the baseline knowledge people might have about intersectionality, bias, and the rest. (Spoiler alert: It’s less than you think.)
- Google it.
- And finally, check out the women we’re featuring today. These entrepreneurial women of color are all in the business of making work safer and more inclusive for everyone.
— Ari, a black woman who works and Slacks
TAMMY CHO + GRACE CHOI
Grace Choi and Tammy Cho are the co-founders of BetterBrave, an organization that provides women and allies with resources to navigate workplace sexual harassment. These two Silicon Valley engineers were recently featured by NBC Asian America in a series celebrating rising stars in the Asian American and Pacific Islander communities. The company has also been featured in HuffPost, The Washington Post, and Glamour.
KELLIE WAGNER
Kellie Wagner is the founder of DEI Collective, which is a network of diversity and inclusion experts that assess and train companies to accomplish their D&I goal. In an interview with Like A Girl Boss, she described how she got into the D&I business:
“Being a woman of color in tech and finance led me to be an unofficial (and unpaid) advocate for diversity and inclusion in the workplace. I realized that I was doing this second job throughout my entire early career, advocating to include more people like me in my workplace. People were coming to me for advice, which led me to realize that I am passionate about D&I, and I’m good at it.”
MICHELLE KIM & BEA KIM
Michelle Kim & Bea Kim (not related) are the co-founders of Awaken, a company that runs (not boring) workshops that help companies develop compassionate, inclusive work cultures. Michelle is an immigrant queer woman of color, and she uses that experience to advocate for queer youth in the San Francisco community.
Token is a project by Ari Curtis and Natalie Chang that celebrates the work and worth of women of color. Subscribe here to get the latest issues in your inbox.
