The Unreasonable Standards Placed on Black Women in Leadership September 6, 2024 ~ Issue 01

By Chasity Wells-Armstrong, Women's Empowerment & Leadership Coach

Catalyst Coaching & Transformation - www.chasitywells.com

As the 2024 election season brings intense scrutiny of candidates and leadership, it is impossible to ignore the pressure on Black women like VP Kamala Harris, the first Black and South Asian woman nominated for President of the United States. For women like Harris, the weight of leadership is compounded by expectations that are not just high, but often impossibly unreasonable. Black women who step into powerful roles are constantly subjected to standards no one else is asked to meet—expected to carry the burdens of their communities, navigate misogyny and racism, and do it all with a smile. These expectations reflect a broader societal discomfort with Black women in power, and they demand that we confront how race and gender bias still shape our politics and leadership.

The Burden of Unreasonable Expectations

In America, Black women leaders like VP Kamala Harris are expected to walk a tightrope that is precariously thin. They are expected to be assertive, but not too assertive; to speak out against injustice, but only in ways that are palatable to the masses; to lead, but never with too much power. As someone who has navigated leadership roles myself, I know firsthand the pressures of these expectations. I have seen and experienced the pushback from White liberals who, despite their progressive ideals, impose their own set of rules on how a Black woman should conduct herself, especially when confronted with racism or misogyny.

Let me share a personal example. When I served as mayor, I had a city council member who was overtly racist. At nearly every meeting, he would attack me, trying to catch me in an "aha" moment. His attempts were not just disrespectful; they were rooted in ignorance and a lack of factual information. Naturally, I would correct him firmly, shutting down his shenanigans and in the process, embarrassing him. However, instead of being commended for standing my ground, I was confronted by a White liberal who considered himself extremely progressive. He told me that I had made the council member look bad.

I quickly pointed out that the council member made himself look bad with his ignorant attacks. But the so-called progressive insisted that I needed to be the "bigger person." It became clear that what truly bothered him was not the council member's behavior, but rather the discomfort of watching a Black woman stand up to a White man. When the next election came around, this same individual refused to support my re-election. He justified his decision by saying that the White man running against me held similar positions to mine. The truth was, he was simply more comfortable with a White man leading the community, rather than a Black woman who dared to stand up for herself. And having a White man in charge meant that all the divisiveness that my mere presence brought would dissipate.

The Double Bind of Racism and Sexism

VP Harris’s candidacy has brought to the surface a harsh truth: when Black women speak out about racism or call out misogynistic behavior, they are often met with resistance not just from conservatives but from within their own supposed political allies. Many White liberals would rather blame a Black candidate for their discomfort than confront the ugly truths about racism in this country.

This is the double bind Black women face. If they remain silent, they are complicit. If they speak out, they are deemed too aggressive or divisive. Harris, like many Black women before her, has had to navigate this impossible landscape where she is judged more harshly than her White counterparts, scrutinized not only for her policies but for her very existence as a Black woman in a space that has been predominantly White and male.

The unspoken expectation is clear: Black women must make themselves small, less threatening, more accommodating to the feelings of others. But this expectation is rooted in both racism and sexism—a toxic combination that has silenced too many voices for far too long.

The Harm of Performative Politics

Another example that deeply resonates with me involves the same White liberal community member. After Ahmaud Arbery was brutally murdered while jogging, hunted down by men in a pickup truck who shot him to death, this individual chose to participate in performative politics. He decided to go out for a run and make a social media post in solidarity. But when it really counts—when there is an opportunity to stand up against racism and use his privilege to push back against the status quo—he remains silent.

This kind of performative activism hurts Black people and our communities. It’s easy to post a picture or attend a march, but real allyship requires more. It demands that White people, especially those who consider themselves liberal or progressive, leverage their privilege to fight against systemic racism, not just when it’s convenient or fashionable, but consistently and courageously.

A Double Standard for Black Women

Another personal experience drives home the double standard that Black women in leadership face. Recently, a White woman in my circle expressed her dissatisfaction with both presidential candidates, specifically mentioning that she didn’t like VP Harris’s policies. When I pressed her on which policies she disagreed with, she didn’t name a single one. However, I do give her credit for committing to doing her research on both candidates.

This same woman, a registered Republican, has supported White male candidates in the past without agreeing with all of their policies. So why does one perceived flaw in a Black woman become the justification for withholding support? This is the reality Black women face—where any misstep, real or imagined, is amplified and used as an excuse to deny them the support they deserve. It is a bias that runs deep, and it’s one that we must actively work to dismantle.

Media and the Weaponization of Wokeness

The most recent example that troubled me involves the critique of a CNN interview with Vice President Kamala Harris and Governor Tim Walz, conducted by journalist Dana Bash. The critique of the interview was discussed on the podcast The Bulwark, hosted by Tim Miller. During the interview, Bash brought up MAGA talking points, including a statement from Donald Trump accusing Harris of "turning Black," as if a person’s racial or ethnic identity can be determined by an outsider.

During the critique, the two journalists expressed relief that Harris didn’t "dignify" the statement with a response or dive into "woke" politics. This reaction is deeply troubling. It’s as if the journalists were more concerned with avoiding the discomfort of discussing racism than with condemning Trump’s baseless and racist attack. The term "woke" has been weaponized by those who wish to dismiss or undermine the very real issues of systemic and institutionalized racism in the United States. Being "woke" is about awareness and the courage to speak out against the ways in which White supremacy is upheld in our systems and policies. The fact that these journalists were relieved Harris didn’t address these issues speaks volumes about the pervasive fear of confronting racism head-on.

The Unreasonable Expectation to Smile

While I served as mayor, one of my colleagues would regularly comment on the fact that I didn’t smile much. This, despite witnessing the constant attacks, disrespect, racism, and misogyny I endured as the first Black mayor—a barrier breaker. This colleague, though fully aware of the relentless pushback I faced, still felt compelled to point out that I didn’t smile enough.

Why are Black women who have broken barriers, who endure consistent racism, misogyny, and hostility, expected to smile through it all? When you are operating under a constant state of trauma, anxiety, and disrespect, smiling is not the priority. The real question should not be why we aren’t smiling, but rather why the abhorrent conditions that cause us to be under siege are not being addressed. Instead of worrying about Black women not smiling, people should be focusing on the systemic injustices we face.

Black Community Expectations

Black people also need to be mindful of their expectations. Often, when a Black person breaks a barrier and becomes the "first," the community expects them to be a savior and right all the wrongs. While understandable, this expectation is also unrealistic. Black leaders serve multiple constituencies and cannot be expected to focus solely on the issues that impact Black people. The pressure to be everything to everyone creates an additional, unfair burden for Black leaders.

Prompting Consciousness and Challenging Bias

It’s time to confront these biases head-on. To my White readers, especially those who identify as liberal, progressive, or just plain decent human beings, I ask you to reflect deeply on your own expectations of Black women leaders. Are you truly supporting them, or are you holding them to standards that no one else is expected to meet? Are you uncomfortable with the truth they speak about racism in this country, and if so, why?

True allyship requires more than just nodding in agreement with progressive policies. It means standing up when it’s uncomfortable, challenging your own beliefs, and supporting Black women leaders without conditions or caveats. It means recognizing that your discomfort is a necessary step in the journey towards dismantling racism and enacting real change.

Conclusion

Black women have always been at the forefront of movements for justice and equality. They have led with courage, often in the face of overwhelming adversity. VP Kamala Harris’s candidacy is a testament to that legacy, but it also serves as a reminder of the work that still needs to be done.

My position today is clear: I am unapologetically uplifting women, and I’m damn sure unapologetic about uplifting Black women who have sacrificed so much in taking care of our communities and are now being asked to save democracy, yet again. We must address the unrealistic and racist expectations placed on Black women in leadership roles and instead celebrate their achievements, resilience, and vision for a better future.

And make no mistake—Black people are paying attention to those who want our support and our business. When you say you don’t discuss politics, don't get involved or don't pay attention to politics, it’s not just a statement; it’s an indicator of where you stand, and notes are being taken.

Call to Action

As the election approaches, I challenge you to engage with these issues more deeply. Reflect on your own biases, share this article with your networks, and start conversations about the standards we hold for our leaders. Let’s ensure that we support Black women not just with our words, but with our actions, and create a political landscape where they can lead without the weight of unjust expectations.

This is not just about one election or one candidate. It’s about shifting the narrative, challenging the status quo, and building a future where Black women in leadership are celebrated and supported.