Most are familiar with the overused term, White Privilege, which I learned about more in-depth while earning my graduate degree. But it is not the only privilege that individuals believe is inherent. Money, socioeconomic status, and biological gender can all equate to a form of privilege that can be used advantageously, depending on the user. I find this quote, to sum up what happens when an individual places a certain value above the value of others simply because of a physicality: “When we identify where our privilege intersects with somebody else’s oppression, we’ll find our opportunities to create real change,” Ijeoma Oluo, American Author. 

“White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack,” written by Peggy McIntosh in 1988, was an assigned reading in my Family of Origin course. I struggled with the essay. One, White Privilege is a thing, and two, a Caucasian woman wrote the essay – purportedly with passion. I wasn’t imagining when I witnessed some Caucasian women use said privilege for advancement, power, or to keep others behind. The author pointed out that Caucasian women have this unearned privilege, carrying around this invisible bag of goodies that affords access to a plethora of advantages with no worries. Yet, the implication that these women are still not taken seriously by their male counterparts, was jarring. They are oppressed and undervalued simply because of gender, and many live in oblivion that they are oppressed and yet are consciously oppressive to non-Caucasian women. European/American societal views have supported this “brainwashing, Stepford Wives, fall behind the man, need a man” ideology that, even today in the United States, some Caucasian women and some women of color utilize. These women often shrink themselves, mask their gifts, and trash other women who do not make false adjustments.

In contrast, a significant percentage of African-American women, Caucasian women, and other women groups do not follow this ideology. These women can be the breadwinners in their families, free thinkers, or women who raise their children independently of a male present in their homes and are identified as modern women. Historically, many African American women were taught from the start of civilization: African women ran empires, “matrilineal kinship existed” (Narayan), and “women were part of secret societies and were taught they had personal power” (African Religions). Perhaps many of these concepts migrated with West African women who were part of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade because that part of African American history and culture was experienced by some boys and girls at an early age when encouraged to use terms of respect like Big Mama, and Mama Dear, associating with the concept of women and power or who to look to when it came to who holds a family together; hence, they believe African American women historically, are cherished, uplifted, and recognized for their contributions to African American culture.

The strength and power of a woman are not exclusive to only African history because one can also make the valid point that other women leaders ran empires as well (Lewis). But unlike African women, with the exception of Native American women, “whose leadership thrived well before Europeans stumbled across America” (The History of Indigenous Women’s Leadership), this is not celebrated as much as it should be in ways that are uplifting but rather viewed incorrectly as not the norm.

Leadership and power go hand in hand. Women in power or leadership are often judged more harshly than their male counterparts—they are labeled mean, coldhearted, and ruthless as they ascend via hard work, education, and experience. Rightfully, I support women in leadership roles. I have worked for some fantastic, talented, intelligent, gifted, personable, and highly regarded women with a solid grasp of personal power. I learned something from each of them.

In my 30-plus years of employment, I discovered however, that when personal power is not recognized, honed, or cultivated, a woman in leadership, regardless of race, can find herself exploiting other women or exacting her power over other women. It is often demonstrated through their privilege. For them, privilege equals power, evidenced by the argument and claim that those with privilege are often in leadership positions and have the power to advance agendas, hold others back, and create unsafe spaces. Those leaders fail to see power as something within rather than this outward exertion, often about control. It is problematic and likely that this power trip creates an environment that can be described as toxic in a workplace. The leader has not done self-work nor does she understand power. Even though women in leadership have it rough already because they must prove themselves repeatedly, when they have not worked on themselves or recognized that thier power is personal, their hard work is overshadowed by unknowingly or knowingly perpetuating a toxic environment, damaging good people, and reducing productivity. When women do this to other women, the outcome is Nasty Work. And it goes against sisterhood, empowerment, and legacy. 

Nasty Work, a psychologically damaging perspective for those caught up in the hype, is the amalgamation of privileges used to damage other women—women who are frequently considered part of subcultures that have perceived lessened power. They bully, spread rumors, exclude, isolate, and weed out women they either personally do not like, women who are more talented, or women who do not fit into their ideas of what a woman should be.

Like many women, I have been exposed to Nasty Work throughout my professional career: teaching and marriage and family therapy. While teaching, I was deployed to support Operation Iraqi Freedom. Returning home, I presented awkwardly. I had the outward appearance of strength and confidence. Still, inwardly, I was battling with post-traumatic stress—sleepless nights, anxiety, and feeling doubtful and unsure about how to navigate life properly. I was distant and struggled to connect with others.

My first encounter with Nasty Work set in place a series of events which then catalyzed changing how I would eventually become…Empowered. It happened when I was chosen as the Pre-Advanced Placement educator at a High School in Irving, Texas. The hiring principal candidly told me that he had put me in a precarious situation because the Dean of Students and the English Department Chair disagreed with his hiring selection.  I was subjected to an unwarm welcome, my experience and credentials were doubted, and my choice of literature selections and content was challenged.  I was an outcast. Not only did this occur with non-people of color, but two female African-American peers reminded me of this every chance they had. I remember feeling small and odd in that teaching position. In one meeting with many of my coworkers, the department chair admonished me when I asked a simple question. I was embarrassed. Hurt. My coworkers laughed while one Caucasian woman recorded the incident. Luckily, the one who recorded the incident had a change of heart and gave me the recording to make an official complaint. During another incident, a peer, a woman of color, began a game and made fun of my sexuality behind my back after we disclosed similar life experiences to one another. One by one, she and many other English teachers began the game of look at me/she’s looking at me due to my awkwardness.

Desperate to understand how this related to my PTSD diagnosis, I shared my experience with my therapist. My sessions were painful trying to explain this game to my therapist. She thought I was being paranoid because I could not find the words to convey to her in my sessions what was going on: The popular, privileged women were bullying me. My words were jumbled in my head, heart, and body. I was reliving past traumas.

In retrospect, I was hypervigilant and attuned to everything around me, but I was unaware of my ability to pick up spirits or lousy behavior that resembled those past traumas. Thankfully, I never accepted her assessment and lack of clear and present evidence of a paranoid disorder. The therapist never clinically diagnosed me with that condition because, to her, I did not meet the criteria. In her evaluation, she never invalidated my experiences. She likely struggled with believing this could happen at my place of employment—my chosen career at the time—valid response. 

Our work together would eventually lead me to unpack most of my traumas. During this time, I was vulnerable, and I foolishly believed that women naturally stood together. Strong women raised me; my sisters and I, including my two female cousins, were taught the value of family, sisterhood, and personal power. I felt like I was in an alternative reality, knowing that what I was taught was not what I was experiencing. I had no way of expressing this in a way that made any sense. That was in 2013. Ten years ago. 

But the most troubling experiences with Nasty Work happened while I was becoming a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist and throughout my experience as a therapist. It began during the summer of 2017, before the Unite the Right Rally, when Caucasian males with tiki torches took over Charlottesville, Virginia.  I was about a month in at my internship site and a peer and I had a conversation about Hitler’s wife or life partner, Eva Braun. This colleague revealed to me that she was fascinated by their love story and wanted to read about Eva Braun’s role in the historical events surrounding the Holocaust. Her reading the Autobiography of Eva Braun so boldly in my space felt like a message, a challenge, or a reminder of her unearned privilege. As the events around Unite the Right unfolded all over the news, another Caucasian woman argued, without reservation, that the Caucasian males had a right to march because the marchers perceived they were losing power to minorities. These conversations caused me anxiety because I began to realize that some Caucasian women use subliminal messages of oppression. At the same time, some have become gatekeepers, and many of these women become leaders in the workforce. Some will not argue against the concept of white supremacy because it protects their privilege. Often, their gatekeeping keeps qualified people of color, disabled people, and other marginalized groups at a disadvantage. Some might even argue against affirmative action because it threatens their privilege. All of this, without considering their gender, ironically, is keeping them behind.  They have failed to understand that their power is personal, and with personal power, there is an innate refusal to accept that you are weaker, stronger, or better because someone else has told you that you were. 

After graduating and passing my state exam, I landed at an agency run by a Caucasian woman.  She requested half of my earnings to supervise family visits for the family courts because I was a recent licensee, and to be clear, this is standard practice for new graduates or licensees in the private sector. But being offered to be the handywoman to earn more compensation seemed like a stretch. I was not assigned therapy cases, as that was for the other counselors and the owner. I left that company after she mistakenly said something that fringed on biases. After signing the end of my contract, she mentioned she was worried that I would file a discrimination case. When I  told her I had no intention of doing so she informed me that I was ineligible for rehire. Although I thanked her graciously, our final meeting: Nasty Work.  Was some unearned privilege displayed at my expense because I challenged her biases, and parting ways was best? I could forget about a favorable future job reference and that felt like it was her power move.

My next job was exciting, and I worked hard and was recognized for my work ethic and loyalty. Despite my dedication, I experienced and observed many Isms: racism, sexism, colorism, and heterosexism. I was promoted to a lead therapist, but not before an African American female social worker in a leadership position and an African American female mental health professional used their privilege of heteronormativity to spread a rumor (reminiscent of the game) about me regarding my sexuality. This is a typical bullying trope amongst African Americans. You cannot be considered a “black queen” if you’re not married to a black king or if you are not in the market for one.

I was the subject of a careless and unethical campaign, maligning my womanhood, and severe damage was done to my professional reputation to the point that many of the clinicians accepted the rumors instead of reflecting professionally.  They did not examine my credentials, experience, family life, or affiliations—only my sexual preference, which is a discriminatory act – according to law. The seperation from the company included and EEOC complaint that was handled by a Caucasian woman who told me not to look at any of the women. It sounded like she expected me to work in an environemnt and not notice a woman. I often wondered if she would have told a male the the same thing. I do not compare myself to a man, but some men look at women and comment about woman’s appearance, while some can be downright crass at work and outside of work routinely. Welcome or not. Unfortunately, the attention is considered to be expected behavior that some women view as validation.

In my situation, these women wanted to label me because of my preference. Even though it was a game for them, it was torturous for me. These women were associating me with the deviant and predatory tropes that many LGBTQ+ people face. There is no correlation between deviancy and LGBTQ+ people. Furthermore, cisgender women and transgender women who find other women attractive be it sexually, aesthetically, or intellectually, have not been assigned the societal norm or narrative of outwardly displaying their interest. And while I am rare, I am not an anomaly. To suggest that my preference constituted an interest seems like a poorly displayed view of feminism. Because of my sexual preference, I was being targeted. Because I was not married, did not have children, and I was not interested in adhering to heteronormative expectations, I was targeted.  What I wanted was a message sent from the EEOC or HR that behaviors I experienced–the topic of gossip, as well as being followed, watched, and taunted are not the norm in a work environment nor is it acceptable in one’s everyday life. I would have preferred that the unfortunate discriminatory practices be addressed.  I was reminded that I had no such privilege to expect fair treatment.

By the time I began my next job, another promotion to Clinical Program Manager, I experienced a blitz of sabotage mainly coordinated by women, who were willing to hear the gossip about the past rumors and spread the gossip and play the game. Professionals who worked directly with me engaged in the rumor spreading but refused to admit it. These individuals smiled in my face, yet behind my back, they discussed the rumor and my lifestyle choices. One African American director, whom I shared my experience with suddenly decided that my clinical judgment, experience, strength, and sense of personal power were not attributes that she wanted on her team; hence, she gave inexperienced Caucasian graduates my job responsibilities, mocked me in meetings, and removed me from significant duties. Nasty work. When her people were in place, one by one, claims that I was the one creating the hostile work environment began taking the form of unearned privilege, microaggression, and oppressive tactics, as some Caucasian female peers complained at her urging. Even some interns were encouraged, and just like that, I became obsolete and resigned.

My entire career and license were in jeopardy. Factually, none of the Caucasian women would ever have to stand before a judge or a licensing board and fight to be accepted for walking in their power. And none of the Heterosexual women of color would have to stand before a judge or licensing board asking to be accepted because of their sexual preference.  Heterosexual women of color can count on their privilege of fitting into society’s norms and doing as they please to those of us who are diverse. Nasty Work. Why are some women, and some women in leadership, conditioned this way? How do they justify Nasty Work? How are some able and willing to attempt to reduce another woman into nothingness with such ease and careful planning, whether it be about race, sexual orientation, gender identity, color, or class? Engaging in Nasty Work only dilutes our collective power. It keeps women in a holding pattern where the dominant group (men) gets to decide not only what’s best for our bodies but, overall, our well-being, negating all our hard work to assuredly exist in a society that prefers to keep women a step behind. Not only was this last experience about losing due to white privilege, but experiencing how poor leadership can and will fail when they engage in or allow other groups of women to exert their privilege and power against other women. 

Many speak about privilege in terms of black and white because it is undoubtedly an issue that racially divides, but it is not the only issue that segregates. White privilege ignores that privilege oppresses other women who are non-white, but when women of color use those same tactics when it’s convenient for them, they are no better.  

I’ve come to accept and acknowledge that my truth may never be accepted. Most people do not see me. They will not recognize that I AM an African American woman of predominantly African Descent, not the trope of being a descendant of enslaved people. Not the trope of associating the LGBTQ+ community with deviancy. I do not operate from those ill-informed cultural contexts. I know who I am. My legacy was established long before my ancestors arrived in North Carolina, South Carolina, and Virginia and long before groups of women decided I was to be the subject of their game. 

I hope that women are exposed to responsibly accepting and using their power and that each will continue to cultivate their strength and teach other women how to do the same. Indubitably, society would benefit. Indeed, we will have built a sisterhood. That’s leadership.