Behind The Bars Of Covert Racism

Simply by virtue of my genetic packaging, all who consider themselves superior, based on the categories of gender, race, wealth, education, and title, routinely talk down to me. Before retiring in 2022, I’d been exposed to decades of toxic talk. Even though I’d repeatedly risen to the rigors of the most challenging business situations, the assumption of intellectual inferiority never dissipated. Regardless of the trauma inflicted, I did not indulge the impulse to respond. Instead, I closed my mouth, kept my head down, and did my work. I kept my feelings locked inside. As years mounted, unprocessed pain retrofitted an area of my brain into a prison cell. Reading this, you might wonder why I chose to remain silent. The answer is straightforward. When you work for yourself, speaking truth to power paves a path to the poor house. <h2>Decades Of…</h2> Choking down frustration, humiliation, and heartache added 50 pounds to my frame. Summarily, eating my feelings was the way I avoided giving anyone a reason to associate me with the Angry Black Woman trope. Working on client sites offered ample opportunity for covert bias to repeatedly rear its ugly head. When it emerged, I swallowed my pride along with the word vomit that crept up my throat. Often, I sucked my lips into my teeth to hold in the words that were on the verge of spewing. All who are othered understand the sting of slights tied to the randomness of the way you arrived at birth. <a href="https://medium.com/middle-pause/behind-the-bars-of-covert-racism-1c693397e1ff">Click Here</a>