Is Black Mobility Like Being the Bull in a China Shop?

Black advancement often comes at the price of sacrificing individuality to manage perceptions of an entire race.

The passage of the Civil Rights Act in 1964 didn’t magically create opportunities for Black people. The US is still pulling itself out of centuries of systematic racism. America only has 50 years of desegregation against 350 years of systematic oppression to correct.

Lyndon Johnson signing Executive Order 11246 couldn’t erase bigotry, so Blacks have had to be more than exceptional to even be considered hireable.

Even in 2015, this often means being the only Black person in a department, or even a whole company. It’s a tough climate to work in as business culture is foundationally White and male. What is acceptable and expected are based on the principles of a single gender and race.

It’s why we still have Affirmative Action, Equal Opportunity Employer badges, and continuous debate over equal pay for minorities and women. If you’re a Black woman… well, you’d better be Oprah — not Oprah-like, actually be Oprah. And don’t put “Oprah” on your resume.

When you get a job — especially when you’re Black — you’re representing your race. So arguing for equal pay — can’t challenge that until you’re vital to profitability. To get to that point, you must navigate name discrimination, racial jokes, or questions if one can say “nigga” if it’s in rap lyrics.

No, you can’t — not even in private. *mic drop*

Being Black in mainstream business means representing all of the stereotypes while you avoid portraying the negative ones. You can have natural rhythm, but you can never get angry. You can jump real high, but you can’t jump through that glass ceiling. You can represent the company, but not lead it.

Sometimes it means being invisible to everyone — from executives to the mail room staff.

Growing up, I attended predominantly White schools and had mostly had White friends. The difference in how we lived was clear, but youth offered no context for why that was. Those formative years prepared me for what I’d experience as an adult.

When I entered the comics industry in 1999, being one of very few Black people at Marvel seemed normal. It irked me that Milestone Media had existed yet no Black people edited comics at Marvel.

Connections through work meant 90% of my friends were White. I’d been raised to achieve and taught to love, so while solitary in ethnicity, I surrounded myself with good people. Race didn’t matter.

Until I worked at DC Comics.

Bayou — Award winning series from Zuda Comics

When the company was restructured under new leadership, my imprint was obtusely folded, and I was offered to continue my editorial efforts alongside the new digital team in Los Angeles. What came with that was integration into the New York editorial team before moving.

I’ve never been more uncomfortable than at DC editorial meetings.

Eleven years in comics and there it was, in pure 2010 daylight: a room still full of White males dictating content for entertainment consumers who I knew to be far more diverse. I’d managed to avoid this room my entire career, but now I had to conform — it was horrible.

It’s been five years since I worked at DC, but I’m fairly certain they still only have one Black editor. One only promoted after an absurdly long stint as assistant editor. DC still has no Black senior staff and as stated, any lead person of color there has likely acquiesced race for promotion.

Look all the way to the right… that’s 99% freelancers

It’s easy to point fingers, but harder to fault Marvel and DC. Comics is a very insular industry and has little HR oversight. The problem is a lack of internal perspective challenging them to foster authentic work — I feel culpable in not moving that needle enough.

Spider-Man: Miles Morale, variant take on Nas album

The quandary faced as a Black person is how highlighting a need to change the status quo will be perceived. In comics or any industry, this is the tightrope Black people walk as bias can put their motives into question. If parties are not receptive, it can damage a career.

Some companies are progressive but many are not.

Perhaps the result of having had two Latino men as Editor-in-Chief (Joe Quesada and Axel Alonso) has benefited Marvel’s efforts in comparison to DC Comics. Still both can hire all the freelancers and vendors they’d like, but without Blacks at the editorial table, or in leading roles, they face clumsy appropriations and insincere pandering.

Times are changing and diverse workplaces seems to be less of a situation for Millennial Blacks than Generation X, so like my predecessors, I’m hopeful for the future.

Millennials define diversity differently — Deloitte study on

Comics will likely remain 15–20 years behind mainstream workplaces. But if progress keeps pace, Blacks should be good around 2165 — I’ll take that cryo-nap now.