Lonely at the Top: Intersectionality’s Impact on Leadership
KEY POINTS
Self-perception of identity as a leader can be complicated for women, especially those with multiple marginalized identities.
Women with marginalized identities often wonder whether the reactions they receive are due to bias or their actual behaviors.
Gendered messages change across different phases of leadership and careers which adds another layer of complexity to leadership development.
Women with multiple marginalized identities face more cognitive and emotional overload when navigating the challenges of leadership.
This post is part of my subseries on how organizations can transform leadership development for women, as described through the eyes of women’s lived experiences and where gaps remain.
In this post, I explore the intersectionality of gender, race, and chronic illness in the workplace and the effects on women in leadership, through the eyes of Jess Wass, a former Senior Director of Operations at various startups who is now an organizational development consultant and career coach:
“In my career, I've often been the only woman of color at my level, and with few if any role models above my level. So as I moved into leadership roles, I experienced stereotype threat — balancing the usual responsibilities of the job itself with the pressure of being the only woman of color. Wondering, if I don't get this right, what are the odds they're going to hire another woman? Or another woman of color? Will they just see me as the exception and then it does not change any stereotypes or biases at all?”
Wass was describing experiencing stereotype threat in her early career. According to Steele & Aronson's (1995) seminal study, as well as other follow-up research, stereotype threat significantly undermines performance outcomes of women and people from marginalized groups. It occurs “when one is in a situation or doing something for which a negative stereotype about one's group applies” (Steele & Aronson, 1995) and the person finds themselves in a double-bind: the pressure of being in a position to disprove biases, which, in turn, could either affect performance or not create any change at all, or even be judged by it.
The experience of scrutiny and pressure is heavy, and how it plays into one’s self-perception of their identity as a leader becomes complicated. Wass shared:
“As a multiracial individual, I can be white-passing in spaces. And so it becomes this delicate dance of, like, when do I self-disclose that I'm actually part of a multiracial and non-white community? And how does that change the relationship? And how do I just continue to lead as if I'm any other leader, because I don't want to make it about my gender or my race? It’s always there under the surface. But as the only one, there's no one to compare notes with…it becomes very isolating and lonely.”
In addition to feeling isolated, leadership identity development becomes more complex and confusing for women, especially with additional marginalized identities, because they are often left to wonder whether the reactions people have result from their actual behaviors or from various compounding biases and stereotypes related to those identities.
As Wass put it: “The thing that always happens with microaggressions and unconscious bias is that deciphering these things requires a lot of time and attention, and you end up dealing with racial battle fatigue as well.”
Therefore, in addition to navigating the usual challenges of leadership, there's an additional level of cognitive and emotional overload occurring internally for people with marginalized identities in leadership roles. And there are typically few, if any, other people in an organization, at a similar leadership level, to share these experiences with to help tease these complex experiences apart.
Another layer of this complexity is the combination of gendered messages that change over time depending on the role. As Wass says:
“Early in my career, the message was that I had to be ‘nice,' which is something women as expected to be… [Later], there was an expectation that I needed to be more aggressive. As a woman with one of my additional identities as Black, if I indicate any sort of passion, that gets labeled as ‘anger’ or [too] aggressive. So how do I show up as a strong leader the way that you want without getting dinged for taking on this new stereotype? And it's also not my nature. I'm not an aggressive person. I'm a passionate person, but I'm not an aggressive person. And I do tend to lead with a smile on my face so much that my team called me a “cheerleader” because I was always trying to embed positivity. But there are times where I just want to get to the point and want to just ask a question without having to do all these acrobatics to phrase it in such a way so as to not to hit on someone's ego. And I just don't think my peers or men had to do all that work. They could just say what they mean and mean what they say.”
Adding to these two marginalized identities was a third layer that Wass was dealing with: a chronic medical issue that affected how she managed in the workplace:
“I managed a chronic digestive disorder. I had to be really strict around my diet and what I ate and when I ate, and one of the things I couldn't do anymore was drink alcohol. And this is one of the ways that people love to bond at work, so it became yet another area in which I was separated and couldn’t participate ‘in the right way’. People might ask but you don’t always want to reveal all the details of your medical history. But already my identities made me feel like I was in a category of my own. This experience is not unique to folks with a chronic medical condition. It happens with people who are in Alcoholics Anonymous [or pregnant] or a religion in which people don't drink.
When we traveled, I’d be the one asking to see the menu in advance and worrying that I was being seen as a high-maintenance woman. I don't think that these stereotypes exist for men. I didn’t want to be an extra burden or give people more reasons to feel tension with me. But I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where I’d get sick. [I didn’t] want people to perceive me as weak or that I couldn’t handle it. But if you don't talk about it, then you end up in a situation where you're going to have to step back because you're not feeling well.”
How can organizations create more inclusive and comfortable spaces?
Wass offered a number of recommendations based on her experience. Here are three to start with:
Reconsider after-work happy hours. They likely won’t work for many parents, people who don't drink, and people who work multiple jobs.
Offer options, don’t wait. Plan something where you can offer menu options in advance so someone doesn't have to ask. Wass adds: “When you have to ask unprompted, you feel like you're being a burden, or it's an imposition, or that you're weird for even asking. Nobody wants that. Create a space for people to feel more comfortable expressing what they need. You can even include mocktails already on the menu.”
Create policies for people to more easily manage a variety of life-changing events. That includes flexible schedules and career paths. Wass noted that “this doesn’t just help women, it helps all employees who want work-life balance.”
You can find Jess Wass on LinkedIn here, together with her company page Jess Wass Coaching & Consulting.
Mira Brancu is co-author of the Millennials’ Guide to Workplace Politics, which includes tips like those above and more.
This blog was originally published on Psychology Today on 03/05/23. All rights reserved, Copyright 2022 Mira Brancu/Towerscope.