Lowering the ladder and smoothing the splinters

On #blackleadersawarenessday our Chief of Staff Rachel Surtees reflects on her leadership journey and celebrates the person who helped her understanding of identity, courage and leadership.

I grew up in North London in the 80s. The mixed-race daughter to a brilliant and fierce (white) single mother. I have never had a Black or mixed-race nursery teacher, school teacher, university lecturer or manager. I have no idea what impact, if any, it would have had on my career or sense of self if I had, but I do know that I am continually grateful that my experience has not been my children’s experience.

Fast forward some years and I found myself as the first person of colour to join the executive team in the organisation I was working in. The call up was unexpected but hugely exciting for me. Day one was a wave of congratulations and cheers from my new peers around the exec table. Day two was a conversation with the Chair of our EDI committee. She wandered into my office, sat down and said “Rachel, I’m going to give it to you straight. People are split three ways. One group are happy for you and think that you, Rachel, are going to do a great job. One group don’t know how you’re going to do, but they’re grateful for the representation. And one group are really angry, they think you’re not black enough for the job, but you’ve provided them a box to tick and so you’re going to set progress back.”

And that, dear reader, was the real start of my Black leadership journey. In the moment I felt angry, sad and overwhelmed in equal measures. In the weeks that followed I felt lonely. I looked around my peer group both within the organisation and beyond and realised there wasn’t anyone I could talk to see if anyone had experienced anything similar. I spent months walking into meeting rooms to be greeted by polite, mildly confused smiles and suddenly hushed conversations – the visible outsider. I’d see my words minuted in meetings but credited to someone else - an unconscious whitewashing of the public record. I comforted myself that in being the first, I was ensuring that no-one else in that organisation would have to be the first. It was a cold comfort, but change isn’t just about lowering the ladder, we also have to smooth the splinters.

In the years that followed, I came to realise that all three groups were right. I worked hard, I was good at my job and I can look back on that with pride. For some, I became a symbol of hope that they wouldn’t automatically be excluded from opportunities to progress based on the colour of their skin. And yes, having me on boards and panels saved the blushes of being a London-based health organisation having to report an all-white executive team. Side note: somehow there continue to be London-based health organisations who amidst the rich diversity of our capital city still haven’t managed to find a single person of colour to take up an executive seat at their table.

"If we truly want to celebrate Black leadership, we have to set aside the ego of hierarchy..."

I didn’t get there by myself. And on this Black Leaders Awareness Day I will be celebrating the leader who had a huge impact on my understanding of identity, courage and leadership. The realities of being outspoken about race politics in the workplace remain such that I won’t name them here in case the association creates difficulties for them (let that sink in a moment). She was a young woman in a relatively junior position who - with courage and compassion - held the mirror up day after day. Until then I hadn’t realised I needed to look in the mirror but she challenged my causal assumptions. She called out performative behaviour. She celebrated progress when it was made. She gave me a masterclass in Black leadership and made me want to be better.

In part because of her, and many others, I have the privilege that many don’t yet have of being able to exercise and develop my leadership with true authenticity. There are days when the colour of my skin holds more relevance than others, but that moment of sitting in my office feeling angry, alone and overwhelmed by it all squarely in the rear-view mirror.

We often look to the top of the tree to celebrate leaders, but if we truly want to celebrate Black leadership, we have to set aside the ego of hierarchy and recognise the courage of so many brilliant people who in their words and actions are making meaningful change. To them, and those who will follow, thank you.