Grit and Grace-What Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson is Teaching America About the Journey of Black Women in the Workplace

"You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes..., but still like air, I'll rise." Maya Angelou- Still I Rise

Persevere. This was the single word of advice received by Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson from a fellow student at a difficult, homesick moment during her freshman year at Harvard.

That one word has also been the lifeline for generations of Black women pressing their way through the doors of opportunity and uncertainty in the American workplace. Even when they have entered those doors as high achievers, the overlapping legacy of racial and gender prejudice consistently created headwinds for them. As a result, more often than not, Black women found their excellence, contributions, and individuality stigmatized, marginalized, and criticized,often without recourse, allyship, or justice in the workplace.

In the early decades of post-Civil Rights America, Black women found themselves in the crosshairs of racism and sexism simply for being themselves in newly integrated workplaces. One definitive case that demonstrated this was the 1981 case of Rogers v. American Airlines.

In that case, a federal court upheld the right of American Airlines to enact a policy prohibiting the wearing of braided hairstyles by employees. A lawsuit was brought by plaintiff Renee Rogers, a Black woman, who alleged that the policy targeted Black employees,women in particular, rather than the entire American Airlines workforce. She didn't prevail.

The holding in many ways undermined the professional credibility of Black women by tying that credibility to how they wore their hair, not their performance.The Hyatt Hotel chain faced a national boycott in 1987 for its firing of two Black women employees with great performance evaluations because they chose to wear braids. The right of employers to dictate how Black women could wear their hair or else face serious consequences set a tone about cultural fit and personal suitability for advancement that persists to this day.

Yes, the American workplace has evolved considerably since the Rogers case. Braids in the workplace are so commonplace that it's hard to imagine that they were once so controversial. It is still rare to see a Black woman in senior or C-suite roles, however, with her hair in breads or locks. The spirit of the Rogers case still endures.

That is why it is so remarkable that, in light of an absurd legal history concerning Black hair, our country's first Black woman nominee for the United States Supreme Court is a double Harvard graduate who proudly wears her hair in braids. Judge Jackson's individual choice rests on the shoulders of many. Black women pushed to broaden the optics of professionalism so that her trailblazing opportunity would not be denied for superficial reasons like hair. And it is a beautiful thing.

That persistent effort has also crystallized into protective legislation. Forty years since the Rogers case, the House of Representatives passed the Crown Act this week prohibiting race-based employer discrimination based on an employee's hair style. Moreover, 12 states, including California, New York and New Jersey, and 29 municipalities have passed Crown Act legislation over the last two years.

Persevere indeed.

However, hair hasn't been the only stumbling block for professional Black women. They have faced and continue to face battles in the workplace with more than one point of assault. The challenges to career security and equity extend far beyond their hair choices.

Exhibit number 1 being the continued dearth of Black women in senior leadership roles across sectors-public, private, government and academia. This speaks to an entrenched distrust of collective capability and the exclusion of Black women from old boy and old girl power networks. It really is about who you know and who will back you.

There's more. A paper published by The Women's Leadership Center at the University of Chicago offered valuable insights about how the double-edged sword of racial and gender bias undermines Black women. The impact includes less mentorship, fewer promotions, workplace microagressions, such as verbal abuse, at higher rates than their gender peers and their professional judgment being questioned more consistently.

A 2021study by a professor at Morgan State University, a highly respected HBCU, revealed more troubling findings. Black women faced more threats of job loss, demotion, and forced job changes due to bullying than their gender peers in other groups. A class action lawsuit recently filed against Google by a group of Black women employees undercored these hurdles. Allegations about the company include accusations of a persistently "racist culture", a lack of upward mobility, and other discriminatory practices.

Being within the top 1 percent of the legal profession with impeccable credentials isn't a shield from these experiences. The nation has watched Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson be the brunt of bullying and highly problematic behavior this week.

Even with Judge Jackson's exceptional and elite background- she's clearly played by the rules and followed the American playbook for success word for word-, moments in her confirmation hearing have been marked by undeserved contempt and hostility by certain members of the Senate Judiciary Committee. We didn't see that in the hearings for Justice Amy Coney Barrett. The difference hits hard. Judge Jackson's exceptionalism hasn't protected her from the all- too- ordinary experience endured by Black women in workplaces throughout the country, no matter where they are in the hierarchy.

Judge Jackson's quiet strength-a reminder of her "grit and grace"- in the face of a biting whirlwind of attacks on her character and judicial discretion has been admirable, but her humanity and vulnerability have been even more impressive. She has humbly expressed her hope "to inspire" and that when it came to being a working mom, she didn't always get the balance right. It's these statements and the general tenor of her hearing responses that clarify who she is -not just a stoic symbol, or heroic stereotype, e.g., "the strong Black woman."

Just as Renee Rogers claimed her right to professional validity as a woman wearing braids at work, Judge Jackson has claimed her right be an individual by showing us her heart and the emotional impact of the barbed attacks she has been forced to endure on a very public stage. She has compelled us to see her. To really see her.

The profoundly human moment we witnessed when tears streamed down her face during the remarks made by Senator Cory Booker to reassure her after a grueling set of interrogations struck a nerve for Black women in this country and many others. Our pain, our discomfort, even our trauma in response to workplace inequity is mostly invisible.

What Judge Jackson expressed publicly with her tears (and Naomi Osaka as well) is what we as Black women have had to do privately on our way home at the end of the day, or on phone calls with friends and family trying to process unmerited hostilities, unchecked privilege, and unapologetic condescension or hostility at work. This shared sister act serves as a current of connectivity and relatability that links us in deeply personal ways to Judge Jackson. We see so much of ourselves in her and for so many of us who watched the exchange with Senator Booker, her tears become our own.

Judge Jackson's experience during her confirmation hearings has been a proxy for the workplace experience of Black women in our country. The imperfections of the American workplace on issues of race and gender have always been extension of our flawed democracy and its systems.

Yet, we do rise and manage to find purpose, friendships, joy, success and achievement at work. Every day offers a new possibility, a new hope that we are getting closer to the equality and fairness we yearn for. A new hope that we can ultimately win in a way that feels meaningful and triumphant. All we have to do is persevere.