I was excited to land a tenure-track appointment at a major urban university, in part because positions like mine were supposedly becoming extinct. Everyone said I would earn promotion if I focused on the three pillars of faculty work: teaching, research, and service. But at the back of my mind was a nagging doubt: Was there really a surefire way for a Black woman to get tenure in academe?
By the time of my third-year review, I thought I was well-positioned: I had 10 publications, a strong teaching record, and a solid record of service not just to my department, college, and university but also to the profession. But despite checking all of those boxes — and more — I learned that that wasn’t always enough. One of my reviewers commented: “Dr. Sparkman-Key’s service is of no value to the department.” As a result, a majority of the members of a collegewide tenure committee concluded that I was not on track toward tenure and promotion.
I found myself at a crossroads — unhealthy, unhappy, and unsure of who I was or what I had become. Checking the boxes, I had learned, was not the way for me to survive in higher education. I entered academe not only as a Black woman but also as a single parent. I had so many hopes and dreams that I thought would sustain my family. Yet I felt as if I didn’t belong. My fire and passion were overshadowed by impostor syndrome and stress.
I still wanted tenure, but I knew I had to do something drastically different. Taking ownership of my career was the only way to find greater satisfaction in it. Of course I am not the first or only Black female faculty member to reach that conclusion. In a Twitter chat last fall, Black women scholars chimed in about their experiences working in higher education — the barriers they had faced, the supports they needed to thrive — and gave advice to other Black scholars.
Like me, these women had negative experiences that had complicated their career paths. They talked about being silenced, unsupported, distrusted, and interrogated regarding their decisions, motives, scholarship, and actions. They had people use race and appearance to question their expertise. With limited exposure to the informal networks that influence decision-making, they struggled to understand the unstated rules of academic culture. They reported being exploited for representational diversity while simultaneously marginalized, and required to fulfill Superwoman narratives in order to be promoted. Along the way, they faced microaggressions from white peers, students, and administrators who saw them as some kind of threat.
Many researchers have documented those problems over the past decade, and they continue to represent significant barriers to leadership advancement within academe. My goal here is to share what I did to “boss up” and change my life, what Black female faculty members can do, and what institutions must do to open up opportunities for Black women.
What I did. When I received the negative feedback in my third-year review, I could have left the university. Instead, I decided to own my journey.
First, that meant finding my voice and dealing with the pain triggered by the review. I simultaneously focused on forgiveness while combating the inaccuracies in my review. Ultimately, the college committee reversed its vote and found that I was, in fact, on track toward tenure.
In addition, I used my voice to communicate my experience and to bring awareness to the ways in which people are marginalized in the tenure process. I built a support network — outside my department but within my university — made up of women who could nurture and mentor me. I joined external networks for women of color in academe.
I had three years to make my case for tenure. I developed goals and created a plan to realize them. I identified the outlets that best fit my research, and I focused on getting published in those outlets. I limited my conference attendance to once a year to focus more on research. I also didn’t take on more teaching obligations. I limited myself to the courses I was required to teach each semester. I focused on developing collaborations outside of my department, which brought new energy and ideas to my research agenda. I went to counseling to deal with the trauma caused by my experiences and joined communities designed for Black women academics to receive the support needed to realize my goals. I held myself accountable to both my goals and my well-being.
I also spoke with my dean about my career plans, which helped her keep me in mind for opportunities to develop the skills I needed to grow. She sent me to leadership training for women. I became the director of my program and assistant chair of my department. After I was tenured and promoted, I obtained a leadership role at the university, and that post now allows me to shape our institutional focus on inclusion and to mentor, advocate for, and support other women of color.
What we as Black women can do to “own” our careers. Plenty of us are clever when forging solutions, responsive in providing services, and innovative in carrying out policy. Yet Black women are rarely found in the highest levels of leadership across higher education, and our presence is limited in other management roles, too.
Taking on more work is not the answer — it won’t necessarily get you promoted and may only leave you exhausted and overcommitted. That is a set up for failure. Instead, commit to supporting and promoting yourself. Here are ways to take charge of your career:
- Develop a self-care plan. This is critical to help you maintain your mental wellness while progressing toward success. Find trusted supporters in scholarly social networks.
- Accept yourself. Focus on the things you can change without getting distracted by those you cannot.
- Be accountable for your own advancement. Don’t wait for validation. Instead, identify your goals and what progress toward them looks like.
- Stay positive. Banish negative thoughts and comments that are not constructive. That includes rejecting impostor syndrome, which is common among Black women.
- Take charge of your professional development. Identify the skills and experiences you need to move up. Then aggressively seek support for professional development that will help you grow and move closer to your goals.
- Take risks. Look for opportunities to grow and to highlight your skills. Document your expertise. Pitch yourself to others.
- Speak up. Make sure your supervisor, mentor, and sponsor know your career goals. That could ultimately lay a path for your promotion. People remember what you say about yourself.
- Be strategic. Take on only those roles that amplify your skills. Don’t allow others to box you into one specific area of expertise because it benefits them.
What institutions must do. Black women who participated in the fall Twitter conversation identified specific types of support they need to thrive in academe:
- External networks. Create and promote spaces outside the institution that offer encouragement and mentoring — places to vent and brainstorm without putting our careers at risk. For example, my own university holds an annual conference for faculty women of color and offers mini-events throughout the year.
- Professional mentoring. Identify and connect good mentors with newcomers in their field or institution.
- Collaboration. Provide real opportunities for emerging scholars to collaborate and publish. Set up a mentor program focused on research collaboration and provide grants to support these projects.
- Institutional action. Promote a positive campus culture and practices, such as eliminating the hiring and promotion of sexist and racist employees. Fix toxic climates, rather than just recruiting new people into them. Reduce the obstacles to tenure, such as burdening faculty members with too many service duties that can reduce their research productivity.
- Assessment of campus leaders. Evaluate the job performance of deans, associate deans, provosts, and directors on equity issues. Assess departmental climate. Use the data received from these assessments to determine the best approach in improving departmental climate and holding leadership accountable for change needed.
- Empowerment. Create ways for Black women to be heard. That can be done through forums or surveys to describe how the institution could better support them and gain understanding of their experience. Listen to their needs.
- Cluster hiring. Black women need to be around others like them to thrive. Consider hiring in clusters or creating more opportunities for Black women to network with one another.
- Pay equity. Ensure that pay, opportunities, and professional-development support are equitably distributed.
- Leadership training. Create pathways for Black women to be promoted by developing leadership skills.
- Mental well-being. Hold wellness events, promote counseling, and create support networks specific to Black women.
Just five years ago, I was discouraged and depressed, thinking my future in higher education was near hopeless. But I changed my trajectory, and many more Black women can, too, if they fearlessly champion their journey. All of academe would benefit if obstacles to advancement were replaced with effective support mechanisms.
