I have come to expect difficult conversations to be tense, especially when discussing sensitive topics where one can only guess the outcome. I think of myself as both a skilled facilitator and expert in group interventions, but a meeting I had a few years ago challenged those assumptions. Given the circumstances, even I felt like a novice.
I was leading a team charged with rolling out an enterprise-wide and highly visible project, one touching thousands of people. It was my responsibility to define the vision, set direction, and assign work streams based on team members’ individual strengths.
Through no fault of any one person, we were severely under-resourced. Individuals on the team were performing two and three different jobs at a time. It was a lean team of six carrying tremendous responsibility for flawless execution—as if we were staffed with fifty. I was the leader of the team and the only African American. The other five members were White women.
Throughout the course of the project, I had noticed behaviors I found passive-aggressive, even toxic—ones I characterize as unsafe for people of color. I am being thoughtful about my word choice here. As a person of color, I find some frequently displayed behaviors, accepted as “normal” in majority groups, to be hostile. I am not alone in this. I hear similar statements from people of color all around the country.
Over the course of three months, the team had been meeting six to seven times a week. Every meeting felt like an emotional battle, laced with microaggressions. I found the many thinly veiled negative undertones distracting and counterproductive. Particularly grating were implied demands couched in phrases like, “I need you to . . .” There were many such subtle challenges to my leadership and authority.
On this particular day, the accumulation of stress seemed comparable to a label reading “Contents may explode under pressure.”
Three of us had just sat down when Helene (alias), one of the core project team members, said to me in a tone sharp enough to cut glass, “Charles, you said you were going to email Yvette and get her reaction to what we talked about yesterday. Did you?”
“No,” I replied. “But we did meet in the conference room this morning and I asked her about it.”
“And who, if anyone, was going to tell me about it?” Helene’s hostile tone of voice implied I was intentionally withholding information from her.
“Well, we only chatted for a few minutes, and we said . . .” I launched into a summary of as much of the conversation as I could recall while thinking, If I provide enough details, I’m sure she’ll stop worrying about being left out of the loop.
Her furrowed brows told me this was not the case. Nevertheless, I proceeded to provide an update on another aspect of the project and asked for her and Penny’s thoughts. Penny (another pseudonym) was another member of the team who often partnered with Helene and mentored her.
“I’m not sure everyone is being kept as up to date as they should,” Helene said, arms crossed over her chest in a display of doubt. “We can’t ever succeed with this project if we don’t have the information we need.”
Good grief, how long is she going to beat that dead horse? I wondered to myself.
Penny, eager to smooth things over, jumped in, “Charles, a lot is being piled on Helene right now and I’m not sure she’s getting the support she needs.”
Each new statement in this steady stream of thinly veiled criticism of my leadership felt like daggers. If they had expressed concerns with an attitude of seeking to resolve them, I would have welcomed the feedback. This is not what they chose to do. Instead, they threw out statement after statement, implying I was derelict in not providing enough information and support: “Did you [email Yvette]?” “Who, if anyone, was going to tell me about it?” “I’m not sure everyone is being kept up to date as they should.” “We can’t ever succeed with this project if we don’t have the information we need.” “I’m not sure she’s getting the support she needs.”
By the time Penny joined the fray with the last statement, my blood was boiling, my heart beating fast, and my mind racing. I felt under threat. All the while, I noted the irony that I, a 6-foot, 190-pound African American man, could feel all that threatened by two small-framed White women. But there I was, because of the weight of what felt like their obvious bias disguised as reasonable observations.
Given my awareness of the constant and relentless attack on people of color in the United States, my first reaction was to respond as the Black Panther/cultural warrior, establishing boundaries, defending my family and my name, while also inflicting a blow to their egos for assuming I would tolerate their bullshit. In that moment, they were in the unfortunate position of representing hundreds of White women in my history who had not checked their own deeply embedded biases and instead were acting them out in their interactions with me.
I knew I needed to say or do something. Otherwise, I ran the risk of something being said for me and done without me. When I am experiencing intense anxiety, my ears begin to burn—my body telling me something isn’t quite right, an early warning system signaling psychological or physical threat. My ears were burning then. It was a moment of intense emotion, stress, and a strong feeling of being disrespected, yet I knew I needed to come to a decision quickly.
My mind swirled with an analysis of the position I was in. I was aware of the privilege of my position as a senior leader within the organization, my role as a coach and developer of people, and my standing as a member of a team whose members I respected. I was even quite fond of them on less stressful days. Although my body was on red alert, I still felt the need to teach, to tell the truth of what I was experiencing in this interaction.
I chose not to compromise my humanity as a Black man, and instead to be a truth-telling coach and leader. I did this by drawing on my innate principles, as well as those I had learned and refined through the years: clearing negative emotions and amplifying positive emotions quickly in service of others.
I took a deep breath and steadied myself, because I knew my anger, if not channeled, could be harmful.
“Why don’t we just stop right here and call a time out?” I suggested in a voice both strong and assertive. The expressions on my two colleagues’ faces told me my statement had startled them. If they didn’t know I had reached my limit, they were about to, because it was time for me to express the feelings I’d been carrying around in a bubble for weeks.
“I’ve worked really hard to keep both of you abreast of what’s happening, but the level of passive-aggressive behavior is making me uncomfortable,” I said, giving myself permission to call a spade a spade and thrilled with how freeing it felt. “Frankly, I feel it’s undeserved, and it’s not consistent with success.”
I saw a mixture of shock and fear in Helene’s eyes, and that pleased me. I wanted her to absorb the truth of my feedback. I had genuine concerns about the professional development of these two White women and their capacity to receive less-than-positive feedback. I felt the only way to achieve that was for me to amplify what I wanted them to hear.
I heard my inner voice saying, I am a Black man calling you out on your shit. You will learn today. I wasn’t looking to cause them angst, but I was determined that they “get” the impact of their actions. Despite my own internal churning, I was still opting to be a supportive leader.
“Helene, the work you’re doing is great, but your lack of flexibility and inability to quickly switch direction when asked causes more confusion than it needs to. I really need you to hear that. No one is keeping information from you. People work around you because you make it difficult with the way you react. And this meeting is a prime example of that.”
Helene gave me a stern look and exhaled audibly. I noticed Penny’s hand shaking. She seemed to be gearing up to speak, so I waited for her to gather her words.
After a few moments of profound tension, Penny said, “Charles, I hope I wasn’t coming across as passive-aggressive. That wasn’t my intention at all. It’s just that there have been so many changing directions on this project that it gets frustrating, and I think Helene feels the same way.” She cast an expectant look at Helene, who promptly backed her up.
They made a few more statements, obviously seeking to explain their behavior as rational and justified. The meeting ended on a low note. I felt an equal mix of frustration and justification about my position and suspected they felt the same.
The next day, Helene approached me in the break room. “Can we talk about what happened at our meeting yesterday? I’m feeling really uncomfortable and misunderstood.”
“Sure,” I responded.
“As you know,” Helene began, “I’ve just recently returned from maternity leave. I also have a toddler at home, so I’m extremely sleep-deprived and under a great deal of stress. I know this causes me to be abrupt at times.”
She’d said as much yesterday. I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes and instead injected empathy into my voice. “Yes, I do know you’ve recently had a child, and I’m sure you’re tired. I can even see how that might affect your interactions with me. But I think it’s important for you to realize that you’re engaging with a Black man who’s had this same exact experience many times. If it only happened this one time, it wouldn’t be a thing. But it doesn’t only happen with you and Penny.
“It’s pretty common for White people to use more aggressive language and tone with me than the situation calls for,” I continued. “And since I don’t see that same behavior when they’re interacting with each other, I have to interpret it as them feeling they have a ‘right’ to treat me like I’m inferior to them.”
“Oh, I never think of you as inferior,” she quickly replied. “In fact, you’re one of the smartest and most articulate people I know ... although I admit I haven’t interacted with a lot of Black people.”
Lord, this woman needs help, I thought. I felt my jaws tighten but spoke calmly. “While I’m sure you didn’t mean to imply as much, can you see how the statement you just made suggests that being smart and articulate isn’t something you’d expect from a Black person? Those are the kinds of assumptions I live with every day. They’re called ‘microaggressions.’”
Helene’s facial expression was almost comical; she looked like the kid caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar. She’d been busted, and she knew there wasn’t a damned thing she could say. Her new baby, her two-year-old, her sleep deprivation, none of them were valid excuses. Maybe I should have felt sorry for her ... but I didn’t. I kept talking.
“Too often, I’ve seen White people position themselves as experts, and then turn around and do or say things that try to identify with me, as a signal that they understand my experience, that they’re ‘woke.’ But it just sounds shallow to me.”
“I didn’t mean to come off that way,” Helene said unconvincingly.
I ignored her. “If I don’t speak up,” I went on, “and allow White coworkers to talk to me in a manner I find unacceptable, I run the risk of diminishing myself to make them feel important. And for us to have a good working relationship, one where we feel we can trust each other, we need to be able to talk about issues like this.”
“Thank you, Charles,” Helene said. “I really appreciate your sharing this with me. I don’t have a lot of Black friends . . .”
My inner voice chimed in again, That much is clear.
“. . . and have no way of knowing when I’m saying or doing something offensive. And I really would like to know. Although I may seem resistant initially—probably just a knee-jerk reaction to being exposed—I really would appreciate the feedback. I want to be viewed as an ally and a really good colleague.”
She actually sounded sincere, I thought. So I said, “I think it helps to accept the fact that you’ll get it wrong with me sometimes . . . and that other times I’ll get it wrong with you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me. I’d like us to develop a more trusting relationship where we can give each other feedback, check in with one another, to be able to say ‘Hey, here’s what you said, here’s how it landed with me. I’m wondering if that was your intent?’ Having an open line of communication rather than operating on assumptions and suspicions.”
Helene nodded agreement. She committed to improving her awareness and asked if I would support her in building her skills in that area. Naturally, I said I would. She also said she would enlist Penny as an accountability partner on the journey. The pivot was welcome and refreshing, a breakthrough we needed as peers.
This experience made a crucial contribution to my growth as a leader. The cumulative impact of these types of interactions can be both exhausting and emotionally triggering. It was invigorating to know I could summon options for navigating these terse exchanges. Both my colleagues and I gained important learnings from this exchange and subsequent interactions. And while I can still hear that inner voice repeating, “You will learn today,” years later it is saying, “We will learn today.”
By the time I left that organization, we were functioning really well as coworkers. And ultimately, the project was a success.
Charles D. Shaw is the Head of Scaled Learning for Meta Platforms. He has held prior leadership roles with Amazon, Yum! Brands (KFC, Taco Bell, Pizza Hut), Walmart, and Spectra Energy. He specializes in advancing organizational culture, performance management, leadership and organizational development, and diversity, equity, and inclusion. Charles brings real-world application to his work. Charles began his career as a voice-over intern for learning and development initiatives at a science, technology, and engineering firm in Houston, Texas. He has also worked in a nonprofit supporting mental health and wellness professions. He obtained his PhD in organizational psychology from the California School of Professional Psychology in San Francisco. A lover of music, art, travel, tennis, and food, Charles currently resides in Oakland, CA. He is a native of Houston, Texas.
Charles became acquainted with Jean Latting while she was working with Spectra Energy’s HR team and had an initial introduction to Conscious Use of Self.
