Do Black Men Ever Protect Black Women Like White Men Protect White Women?

The simple answer is “no”

For years in corporate, I watched white men promote and protect their own, that is white men and white women. When the strong push for gender diversity began in the late nineties, white men increasingly mentored, promoted, and protected white women. I remember thinking how lucky white women were because they had a true ally in the workplace.

As a Black woman, I won’t lie, it’s been challenging to find a true ally, a champion, in my place of work. Most often white men know we, Black women, are not even competition to them, because of all the privileges that they have (being male and white), white women have a love-hate relationship with us, oftentimes envious of our physical traits, and Black men see us as threats because we represent the double diversity agenda (ethnicity and gender).

What has surprised me the most is the number of times Black men have thrown me under the bus rather than defended me. They see Black women as competitors and they work to weaken or “kill” that competition. Regardless of what you may think, we are not friends.

All the sabotaging that Black and also brown men do to Black women make the workplace a lonely and isolating experience for a competent, confident, secure, and assertive Black woman.

Nothing made me so aware of this than when I worked for a Black man. When Thomas (fictional name) was appointed to head the team I worked in, I was “over the moon”. It was the first time in my career that I had a Black boss. Now some of you might think that I’m being too dramatic. But the reality is when you’ve spent most of your career without seeing someone that looks like you in a position of authority, you sort of get desperate for that to happen.

No matter what you think, representation matters. You need to see someone that looks like you make it in life, it’s important for your well-being and mental health. It’s also important for your motivation, actually, it’s critical.

In my first meeting with Thomas, he asked a few questions about my background and what I did on the team. I thought that our conversation was a good one — that was until I found out he had talked to my other white colleagues about their development and future. He’d asked them all to let him know what were the next steps in their career and he offered to help them get there.

That’s not the type of discussion he had had with me. At first, I thought it was a small oversight on his part until I realized it was systematic. Other team members had clear roles and responsibilities and a development path. My position remained ambiguous — between being his admin and the person who prepared his briefs. I had no concrete development plan in place like the others. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t treating me fairly. I finally had a Black boss, and he was treating me worse than my white bosses had ever treated me. It affected me.

I was patient, but after two years in this situation, I realized that I had to find a way to move out of his team. I was lucky and did find a new internal opportunity, but when I told Thomas I was leaving, he refused to let me go, citing a company policy that gave him the right to keep me on his team for a notice period of up to two months. My new boss couldn’t wait that long for me. Thomas simply refused to let me go, stating that there were important milestones that I needed to deliver.

After weeks, negotiations were at a standstill and so I went to see him.

“You see Rebecca, it looks bad for me if you leave my team, I can’t let you tarnish my reputation”, he said.

It took me a hot minute to understand. He didn’t care about me at all, it was the way it made him look, that I, known to be a doer and top performer would leave his team and that this would reflect badly on him. That was all he was worried about, and he was ready to keep me there for as long as it took, so he wouldn’t have an image problem.

“This is a great opportunity for me Thomas, it will allow me to learn new things and progress professionally. I don’t want to decline this opportunity”, I pleaded.

“You’re being played Rebecca. Robert is trying to hire you to get at me. He hasn’t been able to harm me all these years, so now he is trying to take away my good people”, Thomas said.

It was the first time he had ever referred to me as “one of his good people”. I was surprised.

“I need to go to my next meeting”, he said, interrupting my thoughts.

“Ah ok,” I replied.

A few minutes later he was gone.

I sat there alone in the meeting room, trying to analyze what I had just heard. At the end of the day, what Thomas really wanted was for me to decline the job so that he could continue to reap the benefits of having a top performer in his team, without giving me anything in return, while holding on to a good reputation. Something had to give.

I decided to continue with my plans to move to the new team and to involve human resources if he didn’t let me. That was an open declaration of war and he made me pay for it.

He started spreading rumors that I had dropped all my projects in his team without seeing to it that there was a proper handover. He said our external stakeholders were discontent and that this was affecting the company’s reputation. He questioned my professionalism. He said I was unreliable and had not met key objectives that year. I found myself in the middle of a misinformation campaign.

I went to see him again.

This time he was mean.

“I told you I don’t want to look bad Rebecca”.

“I have worked in your team for 2 years Thomas, I honestly think that it is healthy for me to seek new opportunities”, I replied.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you are betraying me”, he snapped, a deep frown on his face.

“I’m not betraying you…”, my voice trailed off. I was tired of defending myself.

He sat there staring at me, stubborn, unyielding, uncompromising.

I tried to reason with him but to no avail.

He just kept on berating me for wanting to leave and again questioned the quality of my work. It was a really difficult meeting for me, especially since I had given him my all for years, but he had never promoted me or supported a development plan for me.

I remember how happy I had been when he had been appointed. I had so many realistic expectations of what it would be like to work for someone who looked like me. Now, it turned out that he was going to be the largest thorn on my side.

As he sat there expressing his disappointment at me, I began to cry, I couldn’t help myself. I felt more like it was he who was betraying me.

I did manage to leave his team in the end. But this whole experience and other similar betrayals taught me that Black men don’t necessarily have Black women’s backs — at least not at work. Only once in my entire 30-year career has a Black man stood up for me and protected me.

As Black women, we are often all alone. Sometimes, I must admit I feel envious when I see the support that white men give to white women. And let’s be clear, I’m not advocating for incompetent people to get jobs just because they share a common ethnicity, what I’m saying is if you are good and competent, an internal advocate who looks like you and understands your unique challenges, can help you climb the corporate ladder.

Today, I have no expectations when I meet Black male colleagues. I know that there are very few that will stand up for me, build an alliance with me, mentor, or protect me. That’s a dream that I woke up from a long time ago.

Thank you for reading my perspective.