working for freedom while being shackled to work with Charlisa Goodlet
for the Black Women Know Best newsletter
The first Sunday of the month came and went without a new post from BWKB because I honestly wasn’t planning to write anything. I’m physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted, which is an outcome of my ongoing struggles with chronic illness — which are the outcome of years of work-induced burnout.
But then a friend sent me Rainesford Stauffer’s latest piece for Teen Vogue with an excerpt from her new book, All the Gold Stars, which features an interview from 2019 and early 2022 with me :)
“I’ve learned lately that I’m no longer interested in ambition,” Kendra, thirty-two, wrote to me a few months before we spoke on the phone, providing me with a line I will perhaps be borrowing as an email signature.
Kendra has always been working, since she was sixteen years old and legally could. She worked full-time in college and, after finishing a bachelor’s degree in English, described how she “slipped and fell into public policy.” She loved focusing on doing good things through work: it wasn’t about the prestige or credit; it was about trying to improve communities she cares about. In 2017, she wound up getting a job in New York at what she described as an “elite” nonprofit, and that was when the pressures of ambition came to fruition. She was surrounded by people who prioritize their careers above all else—above relationships, above friends, above their own well-being. “I think some people kind of pigeonhole themselves in that isolation because they’re so focused on their career,” she told me. People kept leaving the organization, so she kept advancing.
Not only was Kendra supposed to be ambitious about work, her workplace presented an even more sinister version of ambition, framing overwork as her employer being ambitious about her. “I was getting extracted from, and that was getting reframed as, we’re just ambitious about you,” she explained. She was made to feel like she was an integral part of the organization. And suddenly, she was down a hole, with no idea how she got there.
By the time 2020—and the start of the pandemic—hit, Kendra’s struggles with anxiety and depression were hitting a fever pitch. She began thinking she didn’t want to manage a whole team and be responsible for all those people. She didn’t want to lead big strategy conversations. Rather than the workload slowing down to account for a deadly virus, her workload increased as she worked from home with the company of her cat. “I just started to self-medicate. I didn’t even have the energy to address what was going on,” she said. “I was drinking beyond excess.”
When she thought she needed to go to rehab—“I really, really needed help,” she told me—instead of her employer sitting with that conversation, they pivoted. They said her team needed her. They doubled down on her work. “Well, if they need me, I’m not going to be helpful if I die,” Kendra recounted.
That was her “I’m done” moment: the great quit. After all, she told me, our dreams might need us, but if we cease to exist, they don’t exist. The self-sacrificing in pursuit of a dream—a goal at work, a certain title, a specific job—lets us skim over a fundamental question. In Kendra’s words: “So what were you ambitious for?”
Though I’m very transparent about my (many, many, many) issues, it’s hard to revisit points in time when my anxiety and addictions were crushing my mind, body, and spirit. But it’s also empowering because excessive thoughts and binge-drinking weren’t the root causes of my suffering — it was exploitative bosses and wage labor that were killing me.
I’m still navigating the ramifications of that harm, so there’s a lot of grief. But from that harm came an awakening, so there’s a hell of a lot more pride.
I’m proud to disrupt this bullshit status quo we call “work.” No one should have to earn a living or endure oppression for an income.
I’m proud to forever define ambition on my own terms. My work is not my worth, and I QUIT EARLY AND OFTEN. As I told Rainesford, “I’m really ambitious about doing the least. I just want to be ambitious about caring for myself and caring for the people I love.”
I’m proud to always be honest about my struggles with addiction. You can’t heal what you don’t acknowledge or own.
I’m proud to reclaim my life in major ways, every single day — even when so much is far beyond my own control.
[Trigger Warning: mention of self-harm and suicidal ideation in the next graf.]
Most of all, I’m proud that I’ve never been in a position of power and compromised my integrity. That I’ve never made someone else feel small or disposable or undeserving or invisible. That I’ve never pushed someone to the point of self-harm or suicidal ideation. That I’ve never killed someone’s ambition.
There is a crisis of abuse happening throughout the “progressive” movement, and it has to stop.
But we can’t stop what we don’t know. So I invited my loving friend and fellow disruptor, Charlisa Goodlet, to answer some questions about being overworked and undervalued in a field that claims to fight for care and liberation.
Key Takeaways and Contradictions:
FUCK THIS SHIT
Kendra: What do you do for work, and in what ways does your (current and/or former) employer actively work against its mission and, more importantly, your well-being?
Charlisa: I wear many hats as a woman working in both policy and social justice advocacy. I currently work a standard 9-to-5 job while also pursuing a side career as an entrepreneur, providing policy work, consulting, and graphic design services. In the words of City Girls: I don't work jobs, I am a job.
My work focuses on elevating the needs of Black people, particularly Black women. Unfortunately, in my past experiences, I have found myself on the receiving end of working for organizations or roles that claimed to champion Black women or center marginalized voices but did not actually live up to their promises.
Kendra: As a Black woman, how is your voice and vision received at work? Can you provide an example of a "canary in the coal mine" moment?
Charlisa: Sometimes my voice has been heard, valued, and taken into consideration, but there have also been instances where my perspective has been ignored or erased, especially in the context of being a Black woman in the workplace.
In some situations, the environment forced me to shrink my voice. Other times, my input was not well-received due to my job title or salary. It's important to acknowledge that individuals with smaller roles can still have valuable insights that can benefit an organization.
When I first entered the workforce after completing my Master's program, I worked at a nonprofit and earned a salary that was far below my expertise and contributions to the organization. Despite this, I stayed because I needed to make a living.
These experience taught me that not every organization that claims to champion social justice and equity truly cares about creating change. They also reinforced my belief that I deserve to be valued and compensated fairly for my contributions at work.
Kendra: How has your financial, physical, and/or mental security been put at risk?
Charlisa: These are constantly in danger while I am at work. Regardless of the workplace or salary, I have always felt most vulnerable in environments where my livelihood depends on meeting certain expectations or avoiding "angering" the person who signs my paychecks. As a Black woman, this never makes me feel secure. Essentially, our ability to survive is tied to our ability to navigate unsafe spaces, and I have always felt at risk.
“Essentially, [Black women’s] ability to survive [at work] is tied to our ability to navigate unsafe spaces, and I have always felt at risk.”
Kendra: As Black women, we contain multitudes. In what ways are the identities that you hold used against you, and how does compounded oppression manifest at work and in life?
Charlisa: Throughout my career, I have repeatedly been confronted with instances where "job security" was wielded as a weapon to silence and suppress me. Whether I was navigating the policy space, working in social justice organizations, or carving my own path as a first-generation college graduate, I have faced numerous obstacles in building a successful career. Too often, money has been used to keep me in my place and dictate my worth.
“Too often, money has been used to keep me in my place and dictate my worth.”
As a dark-skinned Black woman with familial ties to poverty, I am acutely aware of how compounded injustices manifest not just in my professional life but in every aspect of my existence. Though I used to be afraid to push back and speak my truth, I have grown more resolute in my refusal to be silenced or victimized. It is my belief that all Black women must strive to attain the same level of empowerment and self-advocacy, dismantling the systems that seek to hold us back and devalue our contributions.
Kendra: What is the cost of Black women being unheard?
Charlisa: The cost of Black women being unheard is significant and far-reaching. When Black women are not listened to or their voices are silenced, it leads to the continued erasure of their experiences, struggles, and contributions. This can perpetuate systemic oppression and injustice, as policies and decisions are made without the input or consideration of Black women. It can also harm the mental and emotional well-being of Black women, as they may feel unseen and undervalued in their personal and professional lives.
The cost of Black women being unheard is significant and far-reaching. Ultimately, the cost of Black women being unheard is a loss for everyone.
Ultimately, the cost of Black women being unheard is a loss for everyone, as it deprives us all of the opportunity to benefit from the unique perspectives and insights that Black women bring to the table.
Kendra: Are there any parting words you have to say on why Black Women Know Best? Is there anything else, personal or cultural, that you wanna lift?
Charlisa: It is not up to privileged individuals to dictate how marginalized people should achieve their freedom. Instead, they should listen and be willing to act as accomplices in dismantling oppressive systems and supporting the pursuit of liberation.
Journal Prompts:
How do you define ambition?
In what ways can you support and uplift Black women at work and in life?
How will you dismantle oppression?
Like what you read? Buy me a coffee ☻ and follow BrokeBlackBougie® on IG.
PS. Unrelated but also related: Here’s my new poster via a recent post from our queen Brandon Kyle Goodman.
Really powerful reflections on what it means to live a life of purpose beyond the capitalist system.
Thank you 🙏🏻