In The Sea: Acts of Courage

By: Nneka Allen, CFRE

~ Act 1 ~

He was a Physiotherapist who now identifies himself as a Fundraising Executive. Bobby seemed like a “real” person at first. But only time would reveal the truth. And time truly did. It didn’t take long to realize I had walked into a sea of mediocracy. It took a little longer to know what else was in that sea.

I was being hired for a newly created position. On the outside, it seemed like a reputable organization with a compelling raison d’être - to inspire investment in excellent health care. Shocking to me was the maladroit operation I joined. An organization that prioritized monetary investment over caring for people.

After being unemployed for 7 months, I hoped that my new organization would be different than my last three employers. I needed it to be different. In those past charitable organizations my contribution, skills, education and worldview were scrutinized, excluded and even punished. I learned some valuable lessons from my previous employers that helped me situate my experiences in my new job.

A few months into my new position, Bobby, against my warning and that of a close colleague, hired my former boss. We warned him about her past racist behaviour toward me. Instead of addressing the issue, in a classic response to that serious claim, he denied racism was the cause of her poor treatment of me.

Some context is needed here. You see, that former boss, a very fractious person, had me fired during my probationary period right after she told me a major donor was a “bigot.” With that information, I understandably requested that before attending an event at his house, the donor be advised that I, a Black woman, was the newest member of the team (Read more about this experience here).

Bobby was convinced racism was not the reason I was fired because he needed to justify his decision to do what was “best” for the organization. But that’s not quite how it turned out.

I was beginning to see the more pernicious nature of the sea I had entered.

His new hire, who became the Campaign Director, eventually would cause an exodus of fundraisers from her team. Bobby doing what was “best” for the organization was my first indication that the “organization” that Bobby was referring to did not include me.

While I knew I would be the only Black fundraiser in the office, I didn’t realize that I would be the one with the most fundraising education. I was the only credentialed fundraiser on this large foundation team. There were only two other colleagues during my tenure who pursued their Certified Fundraising Executive (CFRE) credentials, both seeking my advice and support in their exam process. I was happy to support them. But interestingly, my experience and commitment to excellence in maintaining this rigorous professional certification was under-appreciated, ignored by all.

Not surprisingly, over time, I discovered disturbingly little diligence and strategy inside the development office. There was a lax ethical commitment to the profession. I saw no indication that anyone ascribed to the International Statement of Best Practices in Ethical Fundraising. No one belonged to the Association of Fundraising Professionals (AFP) which requires its members to adhere to a Code of Ethical Standards. No one except for me. I invested in my membership and professional certifications despite the organization's disinterest.

I view ethics as a behavioural intersection between integrity, honesty and accountability. Ethical principles are in place for good reason and I saw what a failing on ethics could spawn in an organization. I discovered that the CEO's executive assistant without my knowledge had used my AFP membership number to get discounts on job postings on the AFP job board. I saw this as an act of dishonesty and deceit that impacted me and the organization’s reputation in my eyes. And no one acknowledged the seriousness of this act or held the executive assistant or anyone with knowledge of this accountable. Once again pointing me to the organizational priorities – saving money over people and ethics.

As months passed and the truth was revealing itself with greater horror, I found myself asking, “Where am I?” I discovered there was little structure, coordination, collegial spirit or leadership in this organization. I began to see an outflux of staff. There was a thin façade of concern about this that vanished every time it was tested. There was no actual vision and a very little flair to cultivate one. George Washington Carver said, “Where there is no vision, there is no hope.” My experience became increasingly painful and my hope was evaporating fast.


~ Act 2 ~

If you are expecting Black excellence, we can no longer accept white mediocrity. ~ Christopher John Rogers

Six months on the job, I felt trapped in an environment that I thought welcomed and nurtured incompetence. I had never witnessed the acceptance of poor performance in my career and it was stunning.

I quickly discovered that a young woman, I’ll call her Mary, whom I shared an office and portfolio with, I quickly discovered had a horrendous track record of emotionally abusing staff. She strolled into work daily somewhere between 9 am and 10 am. While the rest of the team had already been working for 2 hours by the time she arrived. It was clear to me that Mary was unconcerned about leading by example. She micromanaged her staff. She was notoriously late for meetings and deadlines and she sadly married these bad habits with a healthy dose of pessimism. This was frustrating for the entire team. This may have piqued my curiosity at first, but I was ultimately left wondering how this woman kept her job. So, I had to begin exploring leadership’s knowledge of Mary’s incompetence. This is when I fully entered the nightmare shared by my colleagues.

Within weeks, I discovered that Mary’s incompetence was well known by everyone, including leadership. What was worse, she was being actively protected. Bobby told me, as I began to share my experiences with him about Mary, that she had been mismanaged by a previous manager in the organization and as such, she had learned bad habits. I also learned that before my arrival, Mary was promoted to management despite her bad habits.

And now the expectation was that I accommodate her inadequacies while Bobby “coached” her. Mary was a manager with staff and significant responsibilities. I did not understand the request for me and others to suffer Mary’s indignities and foolishness while they “worked with her.” Again, my well-being, the well-being of our team was not on their list of management concerns or priorities.

Adding to my stress was the fact that my critical performance expectations were tied to the work of this unqualified manager. In the early days, I had to quickly develop a strategy to achieve success. My experiences had taught me that as a Black woman, my failure would not be tolerated. Ultimately, that meant I would have to manage Mary. At first, I thought this was my idea. But in retrospect it was Bobby who crafted my new position and tied it to hers, knowing that I would have to assume responsibility for her incompetency and do something about it. A task I saw no one in the organization was capable of or interested in doing. In fact, at one point during my employment, Bobby asked me to “support” Mary even more.

A disturbing picture was intensifying, and racism was at the centre of it.

I began to feel like one more Black woman who is required to clean up the mess for white people. It was classic. Stellar performance was expected of me while I was tasked to support an incompetent manager - a schizophrenic atmosphere for me. And like most Black women, I rose to the occasion, but it was costly.

I was blocked from promotion despite my management functions. I began to feel like I was drowning.
I continued to perform. In fact, as a natural-born leader, I assumed responsibility for changing the culture of the team, producing positive results and achieving successes. A role most managers play. A title Bobby twice declined me, while several colleagues were securing new titles and new management roles, including Bobby himself.

He once said, “I have worked hard to flatten this organization, and there is no room to create a new management position.” This was despite my well-laid-out case for my promotion. He then went on to tell me, “Nneka, if you don’t think you are happy staying in your current role, I am happy to help you leave.” Happy. Those were Bobby’s words. That’s what he said right after asking me to supervise Mary. He let me know he would not make room for me on the leadership team, despite my success. And even though he required me to do the same work as managers, such as develop, analyze and present my portfolio’s goals at the annual budget meeting.

The sea was rising with more toxic racist affronts. This is when I was sure something needed to change.

Here’s one outstanding example. On one occasion, Bobby’s wife visited the office with their toddler son. That afternoon, as I was returning to my office, I saw Bobby and his family in the foyer. In my normally polite fashion, I stopped to say hello. That’s when his wife began speaking for their son, repeating, “You want to pull her hair don’t you.” Let’s pause here for a moment.

On that day my natural hair was out in a glorious afro. But Bobby’s wife was quite comfortable affirming her baby boy’s unspoken desire to pull a Black women’s hair. Wait, what?! As a mother, this is outrageous to me. This was a white mother cultivating racism in her white baby boy. It was disgraceful and Bobby just stood there while his wife continued her refrain until I spoke to the baby and said, “You don’t want to do that.” At which point I walked away, surely understanding this was the beginning of the end for me.

This was segregating and abusive and nothing could prepare me for what came next.

“Perhaps the most insidious and least understood form of segregation is that of the word.” ~ Claudia Rankine, Citizen: An American Lyric


~ Act 3 ~

“White women tears are especially potent … because they are attached to the symbol of femininity. These tears are pouring out from the eyes of the one chosen to be the prototype of womanhood; the woman who has been painted as helpless against the whims of the world. The one who gets the most protection in a world that does a shitty job overall of cherishing women.” ~ Luvvie Ajayi

Fast forward. I’m at a country club preparing for a major event and before leaving to get dressed, a sponsor asked me a question about their promotional area. I called over one of my colleagues, a young white woman in the marketing department, to offer clarity and to answer the sponsor's questions.

When my colleague joined me and the sponsor, I asked if she knew the sponsor. My colleague, said, “No, I don’t. I just thought she was your hairdresser.” We need to pause here again. The sponsor was a Black woman. Two Black women standing together in a country club did not reflect a professional relationship to my colleague, but rather one of service to each other despite the fact we were organizing a major fundraising event.

Both the sponsor and I were shocked. I reminded my colleague that we were conducting business and that her comments were misplaced. At which point both the sponsor and I excused ourselves. What happened next was equally disgraceful. Because this story could take up this entire article, I will bullet point what unfolded.

I followed up with my colleague; explained the racism inherent in her words
She cried.
She agreed to apologize to the sponsor.
We agreed to tell our respective managers; I told Bobby.
She cried with her team and her manager consoled her.
Two weeks later, she hadn’t apologized, the sponsor filed a formal complaint.
The sponsor’s employer began an investigation.
HR held my colleague responsible for her actions and she was required to apologize to me; the sponsor ultimately declined her late apology.
She cried again.

At this point, you might like to believe this disaster had come to an end. But it was only beginning for me because whiteness seeks to shift blame always. This story could not end with the white woman tearfully apologizing to the Black woman. There had to be more, much more…too much in fact…


~ Act 4 ~

“It is said that for every “Aha moment” that a white person experiences in regard to racism, a person of color has paid a tremendous emotional price. Yes, the lessons that we teach come at an extraordinarily high cost to us.” ~ Pocahontas Gertler, While I Run This Race

Shortly after the sponsor’s investigation and the correction of my colleague, her manager, let’s call her, Mindy, began mistreating me by targeting me in group communications, questioning my work and expertise in front of my colleagues and ultimately telling me in a public space that I did not belong in meetings with organizational leaders. I suffered this treatment for months and despite confronting Mindy regularly about her behaviour she refused to stop. Some of her behaviour was scrutinizing the work we were doing with the same sponsor who initiated the investigation about the racism perpetrated by her staff member.

With no end to this humiliation in sight, I brought this issue to Bobby who, you should know if you haven’t guessed, is conflict adverse. He asked me to explain why I believed Mindy was treating me this way. I reminded him that Mindy’s poor treatment of me began with the sponsor's investigation of racism. I believed the investigation and Mindy’s mistreatment of me were connected. I asked Bobby to intervene by requiring Mindy to stop her intimidation and offensive behaviour toward me.

Mindy issued a written apology, that sounded like, “I’m sorry if I offended you, but all I was doing was…” She also proceeded to request a meeting with me to discuss her feelings. I asked Mindy in advance in writing to share her reasons for apologizing and what she believes she did wrong. She declined and instead insisted that we meet in person. I declined the meeting and explained she had not earned an audience with me after her months of cruel treatment and disrespect without first an acknowledgement of her wrong behaviour. At this crossroads, the situation shifted, and things appeared to settle down for a few months.

Every spring all staff prepare their Organizational Performance Results or OPR’s. Now in my 5th year of employment with this employer, I was confident in my results. My performance was always stellar. In fact, in my fundraising career, I have never had a negative or mediocre performance review. As an example, in my role with the employer in question, I maintained a 70% donor retention rate, well above the 45% average in the profession. And I met or exceeded my financial targets. I expected 2019 to be no different.

The process was straightforward. I would first complete the review providing evidence for each of the metrics, such as revenue targets, retention rates, numbers of face-to-face meetings, etc. Then Bobby and I would meet. I would present my performance assessment and he would respond with his subjective assessment. Then after our meeting, he would add his notes and scores based on our conversation. We’d both sign and then it would go to the Director of Operations for her signature. My annual raise was contingent on my score and the completion of the review process. Over the last five years, Bobby always engaged in this process promptly, but not in 2019.

I followed the assessment process. While I was in our annual performance meeting, when I was sharing my ability to navigate difficult relationships and still achieve success in my work, I indicated that I was proud of my ability to pilot my way through the traumatic experience with Mindy and still achieve my goals. Bobby stopped me. He said he did not agree. He went on to tell me things he had never previously shared. Things like, “I thought you were disrespectful to Mindy when you declined to meet with her.” I challenged his opinion by asking him if he had considered my perspective, one of a Black woman who had been humiliated by Mindy publicly. I asked if he had considered the fact that I needed assurance that she understood the problem with her past behaviour and that requesting she share her apology in writing in advance was one mechanism to create a measure of safety for myself. He said he hadn’t thought of that.
Bobby and I did not agree that day. After my performance review, Bobby invited the HR department to get involved. This was another months-long process. Let me quickly outline what happened next.
HR & Bobby conducted 1:1 interviews with me and Mindy and other staff.
HR requested a facilitated meeting with me, Mindy and Bobby.
I requested evidence of HR’s experience facilitating racially motivated conflicts (they had none).
I provided HR with resources and tools about racially driven conflicts and the danger posed for Black women.
HR ultimately facilitated a conversation with Mindy and me, with my cautions in mind.
Mindy revealed her animus toward me, and with little explanation; I defended myself and requested an explanation for my mistreatment.
Lacking evidence or reason for her treatment of me, Mindy began to realize the impact of her behaviour. She truly had an “aha” moment
She apologized and she cried. The next day she brought me lavender.

The lavender was a peace offering. It was an admission of guilt. Mindy genuinely apologized to me and I accepted her offering with gratitude. This is what Black people need, full acknowledgment of the offence and accountability for the person’s actions. I believe Mindy learned something that day.

The final communication from HR indicated that our meeting was one of the most productive conflict resolutions they had ever witnessed. I believe this was even an “aha” experience for them. That letter went to me, Mindy and Bobby. After months of being humiliated and then being penalized by Bobby, it was validating to have the HR department acknowledge the role I played in this successful outcome. Bobby never acknowledged the letter from HR. Nor did he speak to me about the situation with Mindy again.

Over the next several weeks, I asked Bobby when I could expect my final performance review, which was at that point months late. He simply said, “I am planning to finish it soon.” After multiple inquiries, I followed up with our Director of Operations, asking her when I could expect my performance review. She indicated that it was not like Bobby to be late and that she would ask him and get back to me. She reported back similarly that he would be getting to it soon. I eventually stopped asking, but it remained at the forefront of my mind. I couldn’t help but think that Bobby didn’t want to admit I had navigated a conflict with grace and sophistication. But why? I began to suspect he had other plans for me. I began to sense a deeper silent racism bubbling to the surface of the sea I had entered.


~ The Final Act ~

“One does not have to operate with great malice to do great harm. The absence of empathy and understanding are sufficient.” ~ Charles M. Blow
As 2019 wound down, my health began to suffer. I frequently experienced headaches that lasted multiple days, I was exhausted, but I kept moving forward. I began needing sick time away, which I had rarely taken in the previous four years. The headaches became debilitating and I soon visited my family doctor, someone I saw infrequently.
To everyone’s surprise, including my doctors’, I had developed high blood pressure. You see, I live a healthy lifestyle and high blood pressure was never a caution for me. But the cause quickly revealed itself as my doctors discussed their treatment - Amlodipine. It is a blood pressure medication designed specifically for Black people.

Within minutes, I learned that particular high blood pressure medications were required for Black people to address the unique form of hypertension we experience due to the stress in our lives. Here it was, an admission that we as Black people experience a certain type of stress. I was shocked. The impact of racism on my physical health had finally manifested and the pharmaceutical companies had a drug treatment specifically designed for me.

A picture of treatment by the organization emerged and from where I stood, it was strategic and inhumane.

Here I was. I had spent 15 years of my life in the health care sector, inspiring investment in preventing illness and funding excellent health outcomes. And doing a great job at it. I know I was born to be a fundraiser. The best part of my career has been cultivating powerful relationships with donors who want to solve social problems. Fundraising is in my blood, my DNA. I have generations of fundraisers and philanthropists in my family. My love for people didn’t matter. My talent didn’t matter. For all the white “leaders” that I worked with and volunteered for, my Blackness challenged the standard of whiteness they desperately needed for validation.

Racism runs wild and free in the charitable sector. And I was in a sea of toxic racism!

It didn’t matter that I needed safety and protection from the trauma racism inflicted and I was frequently exposed to. These “leaders” were too busy protecting the status quo. Protecting whiteness. And every act of racism big or small, every comment about my hair, every denial for promotion, every passive or overt threat designed to keep me in line and every dangerous environment cultivated by well-meaning white “leaders” caused me great harm.

“Of all the forms of inequality, injustice in health care is the most shocking and inhuman.” ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

Not a day goes by when I don’t hear about another organization wanting to develop or focus on some version of diversity, inclusion and equity and sometimes even justice.
The acronyms abound. And they don’t mean anything. We don’t need more abbreviated solutions to address the racist principles and behaviours that gave birth to this country and our organizations. We don’t need to simply invite more Black people to the table because the truth is the table is ours, we built it.
The charity sector needs to STOP and take responsibility for the harm they’ve caused and continue to cause! To do that it must first admit their acts of violence. Then the sector must acknowledge the extent of the harm caused by racism, seek to restore what was lost and engage in closure to ensure another wave of injustices does not occur.

It is important to note that the racism I experience in the workplace, albeit a large one, constitutes only one facet of racism in my life.

As Black people, we are exposed to racism in all areas of our lives. Racism doesn’t happen in a vacuum and the compounding effect of this violence is significant and it is making us sick. Racism is pervasive and imposes itself upon Black people whenever the safety of whiteness is perceived to be breached. While racism resides in all facets of life, I believe in the health sector there is a particular responsibility given its mandate.

I believe the health sector has an urgent obligation to begin pursuing racial justice. The research is there for the reading. The effects of racism on our health are indisputable. Denying the presence of racism continues to harm people every minute of every day, including me. It is my view and truth that ALL of our organizations are racist (and not always the KKK brand). Because racism is the sea, we all swim in. We are all wet. And the only question we need to answer is, “What are we going to do about it?” For this employer, the answer was a resounding NOTHING!

As I reach the end of this cautionary tale, there is one last act you should know about. On May 21, 2020, I was laid off due to COVID-19. At first, this was shocking to me because I was doing great work during the pandemic. But I had lost sight of the fact that I had scored the last point on Bobby, with the Mindy situation, and his whiteness could not allow that to be the end of the game.

As of the date of my layoff, Bobby still had not completed my performance review, 12 months after our first performance meeting. I was the only Fundraiser to be laid off. Until today, I am still the only Fundraiser to have been let go during the pandemic. And on October 8, 2020, I was severed from the organization.

The end of my relationship with Bobby and his organization was a welcomed breakup. I celebrated this finale because I immediately felt liberated. I soon discovered life had much more in store for me. So many beautiful things (but that's for another story). I realize the relief I felt when I was let go was because I had finally escaped the sea. Six years ago, I unwittingly had jumped into a sea of incompetence and racism. And last fall, I was set free. I am grateful for Providence.

"All that was Beauty, all that was Love, all that was Truth, stood on top of these mad mornings and sang with the stars. A great human sob shrieked in the wind, and tossed its tears upon the sea, - free, free, free.” ~ W.E.B. Du Bois, 'Black Reconstruction, 1935.