MY Lived Experience of Racism as a Black, Introverted Woman

The past few weeks have been an emotional time of reflection for many black people as recent events have unfolded.

From the brutal murder of George Floyd to the removal of statues that symbolise abduction, murder, rape, and oppression of a people, it has stirred up many childhood memories and experiences of racism at school, work and society in general.

For many, the events following the murder of George Floyd have fuelled hope. Hope that real change is coming.

For me, it has been a time of reflection of my lived experience of racism and how deeply entrenched the legacy of it had been in me without me even realising it. Add to that the misconceptions and beliefs about introversion that shaped my beliefs about myself in my early years.

Accepting the unacceptable

Unlike others that I know, I don’t recall any vicious experiences of racism. But there may well have been. It might be that I chose to blot them out of my memory. I say this because in my time of reflection over the past weeks, more and more racist incidents from my past have resurfaced in my mind.

I remember the odd name calling such as blackie, or the ‘N’ word, but after a time it became accepting what should be unacceptable. But I was never beaten up because of the colour of my skin. Or unlike my 50+ year old brother last year, never stopped by the police on my way home from work and accused of dealing drugs. Despite my brother informing them that he had just finished work and was on his way home, they searched him and his bag and let him go without so much of an apology.

What I do remember has been more subtle, indirect and by way of micro-aggressions and unfavourable bias. Often times the perpetrator has not been intentionally racist, they’ve just not been aware that the systemic racist structures that we live and work in have shaped their beliefs.

One of my earliest memories of racism

When I look back, my earliest memory of experiencing racism that I recall was when I was about 7 or 8 years old. The only black girl in my class, along with 3 of my white friends, we went through a phase of playing a game at every play time where I had to be the servant.

I didn’t like that game. It was uncomfortable, it seemed unfair, and it didn’t feel right. I would question why I always had to be the one who played the servant and we would vote on it. I lost the vote every time.

I didn’t have the courage to say I didn’t want to play with them anymore because I didn’t know what the repercussions of that would be. It was a relief when eventually we went on to play something else.

Back then I didn’t know that it was a form of racism brought about by learned behaviour. I just accepted it as the norm. Yesterday I had an aha moment when it was announced that the film Gone with the Wind was being removed from a streaming platform. I now wonder whether that had been shown on TV at that time, and that was where they got the idea for the game from.

My early childhood experiences shaped my belief about myself

That experience along with other experiences such as being asked why I had worms in my hair (in reference to my hair being in plaits and tied up with ribbons), shaped the way I felt about myself.

Ashamed of who I was and thinking that I wasn’t good enough. Despising my Afro hair and my dark skin because I did not fit the ideal of beauty fed to me every time I turned on the TV, or opened a newspaper or magazine.

Along with my sister Maxine and best friend Hazel who lived next door, we would put towels or cardigans on our heads and pretend we had long, straight hair like our white friends. This was something I found out years later that lots of black girls used to do.

Thank God for Hazel though. We were the only 2 black families on the road and we happened to live next door to each other. Despite Hazel being fair complexion (colourism is another point of discussion stemming from the legacy of the enslavement of Africans and is prevalent in the Caribbean), we had a shared, lived experience being black. Also, both our parents were Jamaican immigrants of the Windrush generation.

Both black and white children in the neighbourhood got on well together

Whilst there were pockets of people in the neighbourhood (Hunter's Bar in Sheffield) who didn’t like black people, unlike other neighbourhoods, the black children and white children played well together, and we were all good friends. When I hear other black people share their childhood experiences of what their neighbourhood was like, I thank God I never had to go through what they went through.

Because of my quietness (which I later discovered was introversion), I often felt that I lacked self-confidence. As I grew up, fuelled by the misconceptions about introversion, my beliefs about myself would often show up as self-doubt and imposter syndrome. Imposter syndrome is more common amongst those who are in the minority in an organisation.

Another racist childhood experience I recall was the nickname given to me in my latter years at junior school. One of my white friends came up with the name Bwana as a nickname for me. The rest of my white friends took delight in it and so the name stuck.

This also felt uncomfortable and again became accepting the unacceptable for me. I didn’t know what the word meant but instinctively it didn’t feel right. As an adult I discovered it was an East African name for master and was what was used in the show Tarzan to describe white men.

I would not be silent if I felt affronted

Despite being quiet, when it came to anything I saw as an affront to me, I stood up for myself. In one lesson there was a mixed race (Chinese and white) girl sat on my table who always acted as if she was white. She thought it quite funny to shout in a loud voice across the table, ‘Urgh, Carol, what’s that black thing on your skin?!!’ I quickly silenced her when I responded that I didn’t know but she was catching it too. I may be quiet, but my tongue can be sharp.

These early examples are what fuelled in me a passion for equality and social justice which are at the core of why I do the work that I do. Gender equality, racial equality, and whilst not a protected characteristic, equality for introverts too. Because of my lived experience, these are the main drivers.

Whilst I didn’t know it was the direction I would go in with my career back then, I now look back and see it was evident even at the age of 15. In a P.E. lesson one day, a white girl who didn’t have many friends was being bullied by other white girls. She was different to them because she came from a single parent household and was not financially well off.

The ringleader (a friend of mine) was goading her to fight them. Enraged by the injustice, I stood between them and told the bullies that if they wanted to fight her, they had to fight me first, and they backed down.

With self-belief came the confidence to call out racism, unfavourable bias, and micro-aggressions for what they were

Years ago, I was head of a department and then got a promotion. Whilst new in the role, I was in a meeting with a senior stakeholder and another person when the senior stakeholder barely addressed me. He talked to the other person as if I were not there.

After the meeting he sent an email confirming what had been discussed. In his notes he put the name of my former white colleague who had not been promoted and who was not even at the meeting. I complained to my manager who did nothing about it.

A few weeks later whilst at another meeting, myself and the same person were the first to arrive. I challenged him about what he had done and asked, 'What's my name?' 'Don't you know who I am?' He went bright red and mumbled something, but eventually apologised.

When it came to matters of injustice, I found my voice. Something I try to do today through my writing, and I am compelled to write and call it out.

As I worked on my self-development over the years, I came to a place of self-acceptance and self-love. With that came a realisation that racism and misconceptions about introversion had fuelled self-doubt in me. That brought about a belief that I AM good enough.

There is so much more that I could say and may be one day I will. Suffice to say, 20 years ago I could not have written so openly about myself in this way. But I am black and proud (Afro hair and all), and introvert and proud, and the self-belief I now have enables me to do so.

In what ways has racism affected you on a personal level (and what if any part has introversion played) and how has it impacted your career, either from a place of being subject to it, or from a place of white privilege (please note, derogatory and offensive comments will be deleted)? 

About Me

I am an Executive, Career and Leadership Coach, known as The Coach for High Achieving Introverted Women, and 4 times LinkedIn Top Voice UK. I coach women who are senior leaders to be visible, to confidently exude presence, to influence, and make an impact. I also provide workshops, webinars and talks on personal development, career development and leadership development.

If you are an introverted woman and a senior leader and want to increase your confidence, influence and impact, take my free assessment and get a report identifying areas to develop. You can take the assessment here. 

?My book Quietly Visible: Leading with Influence and Impact as an Introverted Woman addresses many of the challenges that introverted women face as leaders and shows how these challenges can be overcome. The hardcopy is available here.

Or you can get it on Kindle here.