There’s a pressure that comes with being the only Black woman in the room. It’s a pressure that is not often talked about, or even known for that matter. Too often, being the only Black woman in the room is equated with such privilege, honor and opportunity, that the weight of it escapes most. It may even initially escape the woman who’s seemingly been granted a position of historical importance, or simply the chance at a peek into some of the rooms reserved for only a fortunate few.
Yet, the reality is what is often seen as an incredible opportunity also bears its weight in unspoken pressure and wrenching duty. The pressure to be worthy, to not just meet but exceed expectations, to set a standard against all standards. But most importantly, the pressure to not FAIL. Because failure is a privilege that is not bestowed upon the Black woman, especially when she stands somewhere, anywhere, as the “only one”, the first, the sole, lone representative of an entire race and gender now leaning over her head like a weighty Damocles sword threatening to fall and destroy her at any moment. It’s an indulgence that no carrier of legacy, especially a legacy as heavy, as costly, as fragile as the Black legacy, can afford.
As a Black woman, you don’t fail in order to learn. You learn in order not to fail. You understand that when you fail, you fail all those who came before you, and all those who are coming after you, looking to step through the same doors you just did. When you fail, it’s as if you denied the sacrifices made on your behalf by generations who could not walk your path. Now that is pressure, a pressure that some, consciously or unconsciously, block out of their already heavy minds, more out of a sense of self-preservation than a desire to shield themselves.
That’s not what we think about as we watch the glamorous photos of these women breaking barriers, going further than their peers have ever been, sitting at the table, building their own tables. We don’t think about the cost, the unfathomable cost, of being the only Black woman in the room…
There is no single way, no best antidote to dealing with it, to paying the high price of opportunity knocking at the Black woman’s door. As complex as the tapestry of humanity, filled with steep contrasts and flat similarities, is the conundrum of lone success for the Black woman. A mix of heightened gratitude and deep guilt. A wave of enthusiasm matched with high winds of discouragement. A proud sense of duty undercut by blades of sharp debt disguised as communal responsibility.
One cannot prepare to being the “only one” in the room. There is no amount of mental preparedness that can really get anyone ready to the level of responsibility and isolation that also come along. What there is, is the renew wed commitment to show up day after day, raising the already impossible bar to higher and higher levels.
What there is, is the will to outwork, outperform, and out-challenge, just in order to survive. The indomitable, often self-destructive, will to keep on going, despite all odds. It’s the same iron will that turns challenges into opportunities, small beginnings into gigantic endings, and lessons into massive improvement. It’s the will that creates diamonds from pressure, extracts precious oil from painful crushing, and leaves a bright trail for all to see..
The Corporate Sis.
