For three years, I’ve worked for a Christian organization.
In the beginning, it was a blessing having an opportunity to serve in a role where I was able to help and encourage others and gain a wealth of knowledge and experiences I never had before. But as I moved through my position, I noticed some troubling things that didn’t sit well with me. Pre-pandemic, I was already wrestling with a steady discontentment I couldn’t shake. Along with constant stress, frustration, and uneasiness while enduring and moving through a hostile climate and space of rigidity. Another colleague told me, “It’s only going to get worse.”
My first year, I was almost fired. I’d made a mistake during new employee training. And after locking horns with the trainer when he talked down to me, I was reported and sat down in a meeting with two managers who suggested I pray about whether or not I needed to proceed with the organization. It was clear there was no room for much grace or error. Because I badly needed a job after college, I decided to ride it out and ended up pushing through. The same week of my training, I was also addressed and scolded by a female supervisor about a beautiful dress I wore to work one day. Mind you, there was nothing wrong with the dress I was wearing. It was business casual appropriate. I had always received compliments about it up until she expressed concerns that it wasn’t. With how I was addressed, you would have thought I showed up to work in a bikini. That particular situation was bizarre. Especially since that same supervisor started wearing similar dresses like the one she came at me sideways about. Something else happened in that time frame regarding my looks too. Specifically, with the way I wore my natural hair. At the time, I had box braids that I loved but initially thought would hinder my career opportunities in professional settings. So I took them out. I couldn’t afford to see a professional stylist after removing them, so I rocked my natural fro. As I write this, I’m embarrassed to admit that during that time, I wasn’t fully comfortable with that level of my blackness. I remember walking with my head down a lot and sitting silently in my cubicle with a slouch. Especially after a male family member recommended that I assimilate and straighten my hair if I wanted to be treated better at the office.
During my second and third year, I started to get my bearings and ease into my role. Although there were frequent changes in leadership, delegated tasks, and responsibilities, I worked hard and stayed the course. Since I was almost fired, I felt like I had a lot to prove. During my most discouraging moments, I had a few seasoned women I worked with let me know they were praying for me. I think some of them sensed I wasn’t okay, and they were kind enough to offer encouraging words and sincere messages when I needed them the most. Things were going okay for a while until more changes came. As the changes took place, I noticed a growing increase of high employee turnover and terminations. I saw different people I worked with crying in breakrooms and bathrooms and during their daily breaks after enduring verbal putdowns from different managers, backstabbing co-workers, or for receiving write ups for trivial things that could have been handled differently. Along with longer work hours, favoritism, qualified employees being overlooked for promotions, and more. I even had different colleagues come to me privately in tears and sometimes cursing about their woes. I didn’t judge them. I just listened and did my best to be there for them.
Some blamed the culture.
Some blamed the leadership.
Some blamed themselves.
As things got rough, I did my best to stay positive and encouraged others to do the same.
During a different morning when I was heading into the office, I came across a woman old enough to be my mother, who was nervous about being written up because of the black capri dress pants she was wearing. That’s right. Black. Capri. Dress pants. From what I could see, there was nothing wrong with what she had on. She looked great and professional. I looked at her, shook my head, and said, “You know what, you’re grown. Have a blessed day.” She smiled and replied, “You know you’re anointed, right?” I wouldn’t describe myself as anointed, but I saw no reason for her to be worried. But I get it. I told you what happened when I wore my dress. Afterwards, we hugged and I could tell she felt better. I know I’m very blessed to be able to work during this unprecedented time, and I don’t take that for granted, but throughout this year, different things have happened that have been unsettling. I’ve been written up and reprimanded about my work performance, frequently micromanaged, read unkind things written about me in emails, was reported to a supervisor and warned about tardiness after being exactly one minute late when my computer wouldn’t load properly and delayed my login time (this isn’t a big deal, I know, but as a timely person who shows up early and is never late for work, I was annoyed), been encouraged to be quiet and stay in my place when I’ve stood up for myself, and felt my faith, confidence, and tenacity slipping away. I’ve worked hard to build those traits back up, took risks to pursue different opportunities, and faced rejections at almost every turn. And if you add the pandemic to this mix? It’s often felt as if bad has grown to worse some days. But through it all, I know God is still in control. Even when things happen that I don’t like or can’t understand. Even when I don’t get what I want. Even when it feels like things are falling apart, God is still in control. One of my most recent prayers has been, “God, if you’re not going to change this situation, help me to be who I need to be and do what I have to do to get through it.” I have to trust that He’s working on something bigger than what I can see right now. In the meantime, I won’t complain.
Additional thoughts on rejection: I have one file folder I keep in pursuit of the opportunities I want. It is labeled no. Whenever I come across an opportunity I want and believe I’d be great for, and get rejected, it goes in the no folder. Putting things in that file stings sometimes. But in this season, I’d like to believe that yes can’t be too far away. I’m intentionally committed to not giving up on what I want. This isn’t always easy, but I know I have to believe in myself. Even when it’s hard. I hope you won’t discard your hopes, goals, or dreams either and that you’ll see things through for yourself. I’m praying for anyone who is reading this right now, and I’d appreciate it if you kept me in your prayers too.