Abstract
In this article, four Black woman scholars explore their experiences in academia through the shared event of a writing retreat. This piece follows the rich storytelling history of Black women scholars who have carved out spaces where they can tell their truths. This work pairs narrative inquiry and autoethnography to address the question: How do Black women faculty create and navigate spaces to promote their success within academia?
Black women represent approximately 57% of Black faculty in the US higher education system. However, Black women faculty (BWF) members hold only 3.6% of tenure-track positions and 2.3% of tenured positions. The representation of Black women decreases as they move through the academic ranks in comparison to their Black male counterparts who outnumber BWF in fully tenured positions (Kena et al. 2016). Historically, higher education settings have been structured to support the advancement of those with identities that counter Black women (e.g., white and male). Therefore, it is incumbent upon scholars and administrators to illuminate the experiences of BWF and to identify innovative recruitment and retention processes, as it is imperative that faculty members are representative of the diverse students attending US colleges and universities (Cartwright et al. 2018).
The aforementioned statistics clearly illustrate disparities in the recruitment, hiring, and retention of BWF; however, it is also important to examine the narratives behind the numbers. Researchers have documented that Black women experience multiple circumstances that complicate their academic journeys, such as racial battle fatigue, imposter syndrome, workplace discrimination, presumptions of incompetence by colleagues and students, inequitable access to resources, experiences of macro and microaggressions, and internal and external pressures to adhere to the Black Superwoman (BSW) phenomenon (Avent Harris, Garland Mckinney, and Fripp 2019; Avent Harris et al. 2019; Kelly and Winkle-Wagner 2017; Overstreet 2019; Walkington 2017). Furthermore, BWF at predominately white institutions (PWIs), who are often alone in their programs or departments, report feelings of isolation and detachment from the professional camaraderie and support from colleagues (Kelly and Winkle-Wagner 2017).
Further, fellow colleagues often regulate female faculty to caretaking roles (Valian 2005). This is especially concerning for BWF as they are more likely to serve in roles that dictate higher emotional and mental labor (e.g., diversity and inclusion initiatives). While these service roles are important, they are not as valued in tenure and promotion decisions as research and publications (Cartwright et al. 2009; Constantine et al. 2008; Pittman 2012). This results in BWF working harder and doing meaningful work but not being tenured and promoted at the same rates as their colleagues. Hence, our research question: How do BWF create and navigate spaces to promote their success within the Academy?
The purpose of this article is to illuminate our collective experiences as pre-tenure BWF navigating systems and structures of the academy and the strategies we use to support our professional advancement and personal well-being. Particularly, the article details the establishment of a writing retreat and other activities to create within-group support on the path to tenure at a PWI.
Context for the Current Study
At our public university in southeastern United States, our college of education (COE) exceeds the university’s numbers for diverse faculty representation. While this is admirable, it masks underlying challenges, including retaining faculty of color (FOC) after recruitment, FOC’s feelings of isolation (our COE is spread across several buildings, with some departments having few or no FOC), and the lack of resources in place to support FOC. Moreover, the highest representation of FOC is untenured in the college. In response to these issues, the COE diversity committee (led by junior FOC) conducted a research study aimed at examining the experiences of FOC in our college.
The diversity committee’s phenomenology study explored the experiences of Black and Latinx faculty in a PWI. Data were collected through semi-structured interviews and focus groups. Interview and focus group questions explored faculty experiences, the role of racial identity in their context, and challenges faced in PWIs. Participants discussed feelings of emotional exhaustion, navigating their identities in predominantly white spaces, and fighting the stereotype of the “angry black woman.” In response to these challenges, participants found ways to enact agency in order to find success within their PWI.
The COE study confirmed much of the existing literature about FOC in the academy (e.g., Avent Harris, Garland Mckinney, and Fripp 2019; Cartwright et al. 2018) and showed that FOC experienced discrimination from fellow faculty and students, felt undervalued, and were apprehensive about the tenure and promotion process due to lack of representation amongst tenured faculty. To that end, the diversity committee formed recommendations for senior level administration that would support FOC through the tenure process.
One of the recommendations from the study was to form a FOC group. This recommendation parallels other suggestions found in the literature related to FOC. Brown-Glaude (2010) suggested that not only should Black women contribute to the creation of new knowledge through scholarship but they should feel empowered to create “new spaces” that are affirming and powerful for them personally and professionally (Kelly and Winkle-Wagner 2017).
The invitation was sent to anyone who identified as a part of an underrepresented racial/ethnic group. Four Black pre-tenured women became regular attendees. The group centered around support, fellowship, and accountability. The FOC group were inspired by their tenured informal mentors to plan a writing retreat. The mentors shared strategies and templates for planning and implementing a writing retreat. This article is an autoethnographic account of the FOC writing retreat and lessons learned that can be applied to the experiences of BWF in academe.
Method
This piece follows the rich storytelling history of Black women scholars who have carved out spaces where we can tell our truths. This idea of a metaphorical gathering around the “kitchen table” was first coined by Black feminist writers Barbara Smith and Audre Lorde, who started a publishing press for women of color called Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press. As Haddix et al. (2016) explained, the “kitchen table” is a space that Black women have created because white supremacy in academia rarely allows us a seat at the table inhabited by the dominant group. When we gather together this way, we unite our voices to “make visible the largely unrecognized and undervalued labor of women faculty of color” (Haddix et al. 2016, 381).
Out of necessity, we four Black women scholars came together to build community and a support system. We started a group text that Dr. Avent Harris jokingly dubbed #WeGettingTenure and used it as a space to encourage one another through the tenure and promotion process, to share jokes and lift one another’s spirits, and to simply allow space for us to share the eye rolls, side eyes, and sly comments that we have to suppress in the workplace.
To create this piece, we took a collective autoethnographic approach to narrative inquiry. Ellis and Bochner (2000) defined autoethnography as a genre “that displays multiple layers of consciousness, connecting the personal and the cultural.” They further described autoethnography as “first-person voice, autoethnographic texts appear[ing] in a variety of forms—short stories, poetry, fiction, novels, photographic essays, personal essays, journals, fragmented and layered writing, and social science prose” (2000, 739).
Similarly, narrative inquiry as a methodology naturally lends itself to this work because of its use of storytelling to disseminate research. Connelly and Clandinin (1990, 2) stated, “the study of narrative is the study of the ways humans experience the world”. Since the stories we are telling are our own, we have studied the intersections between educational research and our lived experiences (Overstreet 2019). Thus, this work pairs narrative inquiry and autoethnography to address the question: How do BWF create and navigate spaces to promote their success within the Academy?
Data Collection and Analysis
The data for this study included artifacts created before, during, and after our retreat. Though we were not initially planning to write about our experience, we were already gathering data about the FOC group so that we could advocate for additional supports. Our first tumultuous day of the retreat convinced us to document our story, thus we began the more formal data collection efforts that follow.
Before the retreat
Much of our pre-retreat data, including agendas and notes from our FOC group meetings, illustrated why we decided to plan the retreat and how that planning process unfolded. Next, notes from our group chats, emails, and a collaborative planning document detailed our planning process.
During the Retreat
We structured each day of the writing retreat to maximize our time. We started the day by sharing goals over breakfast. We then wrote until lunch time, when we checked in again. After writing all afternoon, we met before dinner to discuss our progress. During our evening debriefs, we took notes of our discussion. Those notes were added to our data.
After the retreat
When the retreat concluded, we continued our group texting conversation. The evening debriefs convinced us that we needed to write about the experience, and we’d already informally discussed several key themes. We discussed how different the experience had been from what our (white women) mentors had shared about their annual writing retreat. It felt intuitive to consider the retreat experience a metaphor for our academic lives. Thus, after the retreat, we each wrote drafts of the narrative sections of this paper as a way of processing the experience. We then read one another’s narratives, making note of places where they overlapped or diverged. Afterward, we met to revisit our narratives, share our reflections, compare themes we discovered during the process, and to brainstorm for this article. During this recursive process, we settled on themes and a format for this piece.
During the three-day retreat and subsequent conversations, we drew direct parallels between our experiences during the event and our experiences as BWF. Each of the themes we discuss appeared repeatedly in our shared conversations and individual reflections. The most prevalent themes were making the best of it and figuring it out/facing the storms. The following sections represent our individual and collective experience at our first academic writing retreat.
Findings
In this section we present our findings by sharing excerpts of our retreat story from our various perspectives. While doing so, we make connections between this experience and the collective experiences of Black women in academe.
Making the Best of a Misrepresentation
The Cottage was described as a “luxury waterfront beach home with wraparound porch.” It supposedly slept eight (two to a bed), including a separate “guesthouse.” The pictures showed the sweet yellow exterior, peaceful beach hammocks and chairs, and airy furnishings within.
Dr. Avent Harris
As the first to arrive at the Cottage, I was excited to get a chance to see the place and get settled before everyone else arrived. I pulled up and immediately felt concerned as it did not scream “luxury”. However, I tried to be optimistic and convinced myself that the inside must be spectacular. It was not. There were stains on the couch, the appliances were rotted, the “guest house” did not have a bathroom, and there was not a lot of space to write. The beach was more like a marsh with a lot of rocks. There was nowhere to even place a chair on the “sand.” Fortunately, Dr. Christy Howard arrived shortly after and she was equally disappointed. I had been so excited for this trip and this time of fellowship with my sister scholars, and was hoping to get a lot of work done.
So many questions were going through my mind. Had I become too “bougie”? Could I just push past this to get the work done? I did not want to be the one to ruin the weekend, so I was relieved when Dr. Howard had similar concerns. We immediately went into problem-solving mode. The rental agency had grossly misrepresented the property and here we were trying to figure it out. We called the agency and they sent a representative. She agreed that the house was not in the best condition but seemed restricted by her allegiance to the company’s best interest. As compensation for the misrepresentation, the representative offered us a discount, but did not offer to provide additional cleaning services or to move us to another location. We were not satisfied with this arrangement and negotiated until the company granted us a full refund. However, that also meant that we had to find other lodgings at the last minute.
As I reflect, I recognize there have been many times when I have known that I needed change and even deserved better in the Academy. Often, situations have been misrepresented and I have ultimately been disappointed. Yet there have not been nearly as many times that I have fought or voiced these needs and concerns. The imposter syndrome inevitably seeps in, and I do not allow myself to demand change because I am not totally convinced that I deserve to occupy the white, male-dominated halls of academia.
In so many ways, the idea of “pushing through” is a norm for Black women in academia, commonly referred to as grit (Harmon 2018). Things are, most often, just not quite right. Yet, for many reasons, BWF keep working to achieve acceptance and affirmation from a system that was never designed with them in mind. Black women are forced to sit in meetings, be a part of programs, and participate in scholarly activities in contexts that do not fully appreciate them and/or their contributions (Louis et al. 2016). Further, faculty from privileged identities may empathize with Black women’s experiences, similar to the company representative about the Cottage, but they are often hesitant to speak against the system. This culture of implicit agreement perpetuates overt discrimination against Black women.
Dr. Christy Howard
I was excited when, at our first FOC meeting, Dr. Loni Crumb suggested that we plan a writing retreat. I knew I needed this retreat, not only to catch up on my writing, but to spend some much-needed time with my sister scholars. For the last four-and-a-half years, I had felt so isolated. Prior to Dr. Mikkaka Overstreet coming to the university, I was the only Black person in my department, and even since her arrival, with our chaotic schedules, we had found little time to connect outside of the traditional work schedule. When the day arrived to make the journey, I had my writing goals and was looking forward to our time together. My excitement grew as I looked forward to a place to relax, spend time with other Black faculty, and simply write.
Upon arrival at the Cottage, disappointment settled in. The appliances were dirty, the refrigerator was rusted, and the furniture was stained. It was not at all what I expected based on the description. But isn’t this what I had come to expect from my experiences as a Black woman in academia? Weren’t things on the outside presented one way, but once you got into it, it turned out to be something else altogether? For example, when I visited my university for an interview, I was told how much my work was valued and how much my expertise was needed, but after I arrived I was treated as incompetent by some of the very people who praised me and convinced me to come.
Dr. Harris and I tried to figure out what to do. We called Dr. Overstreet to describe the conditions of the house. I knew she was just leaving a doctor’s appointment and I didn’t want to bother her, but she had made the reservation and would know who we should contact with our concerns. Upon calling her, I could feel the questions in her voice: Are they overreacting? Is it really that bad? We decided to let her see for herself when she arrived, but in the meantime, we tried to clean. This reminded me of how as BWF we are often faced with problems we did not create, yet which drastically impact us, so if we want problems to be solved, the burden is put on us to solve them.
With the idea of staying in this house weighing heavily on us, Dr. Harris and I decided to phone the rental agency. However, it was not as easy as simply making the call. I wrestled with the ideas that often plague me as a Black woman in higher education: Should I complain? I have always been taught not to complain, not to be a troublemaker, but I wrestled with my deeply-held belief that my concerns deserved to be heard. We paid a fair amount of money to stay at this house and I needed to be comfortable. Was I being too picky? Would I be perceived a certain way for complaining? Why should it be this difficult to make a phone call and voice a concern? The answer to that question was quickly answered when Dr. Harris made the call and a representative from the rental office came to the house, only to tell us that yes, we were overreacting. Our concerns were not validated—people have different expectations of cleanliness, we were told—and so began a long evening of trying to fix a problem that we had not created. Our time was stolen from us as we called friends who might help us find a solution and searched the internet for other options. This time should have been spent bonding and starting a wonderful tradition.
Once things settled down and we found a place to rest and work, we began to see the parallels between this experience and academia. I thought about how many times my concerns were not validated in my work. I specifically remembered a time when I went to my department chair about an ongoing situation that had been weighing heavily on me. I had detailed notes of specific incidents with dates, times, and explanations. By the time I got the nerve to discuss my concerns with her, I was exhausted and frustrated beyond measure. I explained that I had been afraid to talk to her in fear of being seen as weak or problematic, but at that point, the situation was impacting my mental and emotional health so I felt I had no other choice. Instead of validating my feelings and my evidence, she told me she was sure it was a misunderstanding and that the people who were blatantly antagonizing me did not mean to offend me. I left her office deflated. Similar to the retreat situation, I left feeling like it was my responsibility to fix a problem I had not created.
Just like the long evening stolen from our retreat, we have had long hours and days stolen from us during our careers. As we worked throughout the night, trying to find a solution, I thought about how often my time had been devalued as a Black woman in academia. For instance, at my first reappointment, I was asked by one of my evaluators if my accepted publication was “even in a real journal.” It was left to me to send her documentation that she could have easily found on Google. Would she have questioned the validity of a white woman’s work and expected her to take valuable time to prove something she should not have to prove? This time stealing also shows up in the requests for extra unpaid work and extensive service that is not appreciated or rewarded, yet is expected. We are asked to engage in extra recruiting efforts, extra mentoring, and extra committees that steal our time while our white colleagues are given extra time to work on their research projects through course releases and limited service duties. Reflecting on this experience at the retreat, the parallels were clear.
Dr. Mikkaka Overstreet
We had somehow waited until the last minute to book our retreat. We had been talking about it for a while—had even looked at dates and places—but just had not fully committed. The pickings were slim at that late date and even slimmer on the beach where we wanted to be. I sent the options to #WeGettingTenure for discussion. Dr. Crumb offered an additional option that looked like a gem I’d missed. Ultimately we decided to book it; I made the arrangements, and we were finally set.
A week before the retreat was scheduled, I realized how short it was going to be. If we checked in on Friday at 4 pm and checked out on Sunday at 10 am, we only had one full day to write. I suggested adding Thursday night to our reservation and everyone else agreed, though I knew that for the other three, all mothers, the decision was not as easy as it was for me.
The day of the retreat came and I planned to head down after a late afternoon doctor’s appointment. I was trying to get to the bottom of my chronic pain and fatigue—a condition I had been battling for eight months at that time. I was frustrated by the expensive testing, the lack of response from the doctors, and their refusal to acknowledge my pain. Women, particularly Black women, are routinely dismissed by doctors. Black women experience higher maternal death and infant mortality rates than their white counterparts—a shocking statistic that remains true even when comparing highly-educated Black women to lesser-educated white women (Bowleg 2012). Historically, physicians have been taught that African-Americans are less susceptible to pain. Studies suggest that Black women with chronic pain experience more depression and are more susceptible to PTSD than white patients (Ndao-Brumblay and Green 2005). Sadly, these data are mirrored in academia, where BWF regularly experience discrimination from students, peers, and administrators (Overstreet 2019). Considering that I was navigating these medical issues while simultaneously dealing with the complexities of being a queer Black woman in academia (a very straight, white, male space), I was exhausted.
Thus, when Authors H and A called me from the rental, I was already in a sour mood and their call did nothing to improve it. The house was not what we expected. It was dirty and lacked sufficient sleeping spaces, and was hardly the beachfront location the listing had boasted. I guiltily remember thinking exactly what everyone always thinks about Black women and girls: they are exaggerating, they are being difficult or “extra”; societal expectations and portrayals often result in even Black women misperceiving their peers (Nyachae and Ohito 2020). I knew Dr. Howard to be a certified germaphobe who checked into hotels armed with Clorox wipes and Lysol. I figured it would be hard for her to stay in anyone’s house. Besides, I unsure what I could do about it at that point.
By the time I arrived, my sister scholars had already spoken with the property owner, who was sending someone over to check out our complaints. The owner had dismissed my colleagues, saying “we all have different standards of cleanliness.” The place was cute, and did not strike me as filthy on first glance. I was, however, displeased that the “carriage house” was basically a smelly, well-furnished shed without a bathroom. Anyone who slept in it would have to walk back to the house in the dark to relieve their bladder. I have watched enough horror movies to be against Black women wandering around country settings alone at night. There were only two sleeping spaces for the price of four. We had been misled.
The longer we stayed and deliberated, the more filth I noticed. We did not want to cancel the retreat, but we were not comfortable in the space. It would not be conducive to rest or writing. Though we decided to stay the night and leave in the morning, we did not know where we would go. I spent a restless night on the dirty, uncomfortable, not-fold-out couch, using the spotty internet to search for other options, communicate with the property owner, and correspond with the booking site’s customer service. By morning, I had secured a full refund contingent on us vacating the property by 10 am. We packed our belongings, knowing the next few decisions would make or break the retreat.
Though we ultimately decided to leave the Cottage, our first reaction was to try and make the best of it. We did not want to give up on the retreat and we knew we had few options for accommodations on such short notice. Since Dr. Crumb made it clear that returning home was not an option, we knew that unless we could find a miraculously available and affordable listing, we would be stuck in a hotel room, which we all considered a less-than-ideal option.
The night was stressful. I felt personally responsible for the mess we were in since I had been the one to handle the booking. Now that I had seen all of the stains and signs of neglect on the furniture and appliances, I could not help imagining what else might be lurking in the beds and couches. I slept on the couch so as not to disturb my colleagues as I worked on finding a resolution. The slow and spotty internet combined with poor cell service meant that this effort took hours, but by morning we had found another property.
This experience reminds me of other situations I have had to navigate as a BWF. It was familiar, this feeling of things not being all they were supposed to be. After the Herculean effort of earning my PhD, my first job in academia was supposed to be a reward for that hard work. The position was sold to me as one that would pair my love of teaching with my passion for equity work.
What it actually turned out to be was a merger of two full-time jobs, with little support and no potential for tenure-track status or other career growth. Like many Black female academics, I found myself doing excessive service while being tokenized by my superiors and marginalized by my peers (Overstreet 2019). Like at the Cottage, what looked good on paper turned out to be, in fact, too good to be true. And like at the Cottage, I made the best of it for a time, but knew I had to find an alternative where I could thrive and not just survive.
Dr. Loni Crumb
I arrived at the retreat home one day after my sister scholars. We originally planned the retreat from Friday through Sunday; however, someone realized that we would not have enough writing time within those days. As a mother of two children, I had to consider the last-minute change and decide whether I could shift my mothering responsibilities to accommodate this change. As scholars (Appling, Haskins, and J. Daigle 2018; Haskins et al. 2016) have proposed, mothers have to consider additional aspects in their personal and professional decision-making processes such as who will help to manage the children if they have to be away for work purposes, especially on a weekday. Furthermore, from a womanist perspective (Haskins et al. 2019), I had to consider if it would be fair to ask my partner to shift his work schedule to accommodate the additional day. In order to be fair, I decided that I could not change my schedule. However, I knew that I would miss the extra time to bond with the group away from the academic workspace, which is necessary for the psychological health and retention of Black women professors teaching at PWIs (Denson et al. 2018).
As my sister scholars have shared, the living situation was not as expected. I received a text asking would I stay in a place where I was not comfortable. My answer was the familiar philosophical response: “It depends.” I felt that it depended on how “bad” the environment actually was. If the environment (house or academic work environment) was tolerable, I told them that I would stay. If it was horrible, then I would probably try to secure another place. I communicated clearly to my sister scholars that returning home was not an option, in part because I had yet to arrive to enjoy my Mommy vacation, and also because of my internal drive to follow through with this professional endeavor. We needed to show others that we could successfully conduct a writing retreat given our own resources. Scholars (Harley 2008) have noted the phenomenon of Black women feeling like they have to prove themselves to others, and I guess this was coming into play. My sister scholars collectively chose to endure one night in the home. Early the next morning, after dropping off the kids, I drove to the Cottage. I felt a strong need to be with them as we made our next decision about accommodations.
Upon my arrival, I was able to assess the property. My conclusion: the glass was half full. It was bearable, but absolutely not what we intended for the amount that we paid. In relation to the academic setting, I reflected on how Black women take jobs in work environments that are “okay” but perhaps not ideal. Nonetheless, we bear the environment because we need the job, even if it is only temporary. We discussed our preferences and made a collective decision to move. One of my sister scholars stated, “If any one of us does not feel comfortable in the environment, then we stand together on the decision to move.” Thus, we were on to the next location. In essence, it is much easier to make simple or complex decisions when you have support and insight from your close, trusted colleagues.
Figuring It Out and Facing the Storm
We left the Cottage with our bags, lots of perishable food items, and no idea where we were going next. We decided that a coffee shop with internet access would allow us to work as we regrouped. While there, we contacted the proprietor of the nearby rental we found overnight. Check-in was not until late afternoon, but Patty made an exception in light of our situation. The house was beautiful, spotless, and spacious, with more than enough rooms and beds for us to be comfortable. As an added bonus, there were many spaces to write—from a bright living room to a huge porch and a hammock on the dock. Patty’s Place was a dream come true after our nightmare at the Cottage. We quickly settled into a routine of working and bonding. Our no-nonsense writing schedule included check-ins in the morning, at lunch, and the end of the day so that we could share our goals and progress. As we worked diligently that Saturday, a storm rolled in. Soon, the power went out, leaving us without electricity or the internet. It was hot, we were hoping our devices would not die, and we did not want to lose our writing momentum.
Dr. Avent Harris
After we decided that the Cottage would not be a conducive environment, we searched for an alternative. We were able to find a beautiful homeshare. I remember reading in the description that this home was usually booked. I truly believe God made provision for us to have this place. It was perfect for what we needed and even exceeded our expectations.
As I reflect on experiences of Black women in academia, I can imagine that it may be hard for us to speak up for ourselves since we may feel our options are limited. As retention rates are already dismal in many universities (Whittaker, Montgomery, and Acosta 2015) I suppose that many BWF stay in unhealthy work environments out of fear. In our decision to leave the Cottage, we were apprehensive about asking for a refund and fearful that we would not be able to find an alternate location. The research around the negative experiences of BWF is clear. The culture of fear that exists within the academy for untenured Black women often creates an invisible barrier to speaking out against circumstances and demanding change.
When we settled into the beautiful new space, the barriers and challenges did not cease. Just as we found a rhythm with our writing and productivity, we received a severe weather alert. The storm caused us to wrestle with what was within and what was outside of our control. The storm was fierce and resulted in a power outage. We could not believe it. After all we had been through to get to the retreat, then to have to relocate, and now we did not have power.
As a church girl, “storms” are often used as a metaphor to describe difficult and challenging moments in life. In fact, I have heard preachers say, “either you’re coming out a storm, in one now, or getting ready to go in one.” This colloquialism reflects the notion that we can expect some sort of struggle through life. We had already gone through the process of finding a new place and now even in the “better” place, we faced adversity.
The idea of facing the storm resonates with the literature on the experiences of Black women in academia (Avent Harris et al. 2019). Even when Black women are in generally healthy work environments, there will always be some sort of adversity as they move through the tenure process. In fact, every BWF I know who has successfully achieved tenure and promotion has a backstory. Their journeys were often wrought with more challenges than faced by their white colleagues. I was also taught to celebrate the storm and “be better.” It is likely that these ideas have contributed to the BSW phenomenon (Avent Harris 2019; Avent Harris, Garland Mckinney, and Fripp 2019; Overstreet 2019) and the internal and external pressure of Black women in the Academy to endure and, in many cases, to expect hardships and challenges.
As I reflect on my experiences in academe, I realize how many “storms” I have had to endure. Oftentimes, BWF spend additional time and effort making preparations for the storms. This could be through emotional, spiritual, physical, and financial avenues (Avent Harris 2019). For instance, I try to be consistent in attending church on Sunday mornings because it will give me the spiritual support I need to face obstacles during my week. Also, I am mindful of saving money “just in case” I need to find other employment. The amount of emotional burden that this places on me is exhausting. But I know that storms will come, and I want to be as prepared as possible.
Dr. Mikkaka Overstreet
As a person with generalized anxiety disorder, I was in a frazzled state for the first 24 hours of our retreat. My anxiety manifests as irritability, guilt, and impatience. I was pleasantly surprised that my sister scholars were able to tolerate me, but that is one of the beautiful things about this group—we have a good balance of personalities. Dr. Howard is unfailingly compassionate and empathetic. Dr. Harris has strong faith and a wry sense of humor that enables her to make light of a situation in a way that amuses everyone. Dr. Crumb is not easily ruffled and is resourceful and confident. I am not sure how to describe myself, but I know that we formed a dream team.
After securing a full refund from the Cottage and finding a new homeshare, I had pretty much exhausted my crisis skill set. Dr. Crumb picked up right where I left off, calling Patty and easily talking her into allowing us an early check-in. I could not believe we were settled in a new place before our perishables had time to warm. I could not help but think of my career as I contemplated the two properties. I started my time in academia at an institution that did not value me and misrepresented my job requirements. I moved to a university where my leaders and colleagues seemed delighted to have me. My work is valued and supported and I have quickly built amazing relationships with my colleagues.
Of course, my new job is not perfect and neither was Patty’s Place. Naturally, it was more expensive than the Cottage, meaning we spent more money for our two nights there than the total for three nights at the Cottage. While beautiful and comfortable, the infrastructure of the home meant that power outages happened frequently. Similarly, my new position hit my pocketbook; my salary is about $10,000 less than my previous salary. The racial climate is problematic and turnover, particularly in leadership positions, is high.
In both Patty’s Place and in my career I chose the same approach: enjoy the good, make the best of the bad, work hard, and stay focused. We will take what we learned from this experience and use it to make the next retreat better. Likewise, I probably will not spend the rest of my career at my current university, but the next place I go will be better and I will carry with me the knowledge I gained during my time here.
Dr. Loni Crumb
As a person with an optimistic perspective overall, I approach situations from a solution-focused lens. Returning home and being unproductive were not options. Drawing a parallel, neither is being unproductive in tenure-track positions at research-intensive universities. I was surrounded by three bright sister scholars with many personal and professional strengths and talents; thus, I was confident that we would find a way to make the retreat a success. Viewing my sister scholars from this lens immediately makes me think that this is the way that BWF should be viewed in academia, not from a deficit perspective, as is often depicted in the literature (Harley 2008).
We faced the storm as a collective. We shared internet hotspots until electricity was restored. Furthermore, we reviewed one another’s writing projects and grant applications and shared ideas on how to make these pieces more robust. I was not successful writing away from the comfort of my office (method of loci); therefore, I read two books during the retreat. During our “report out” time, I provided a verbal overview of what I learned and important “takeaway” points. The activities we engaged in in the midst of the storm were deeply appreciated. There is no guarantee that we would have the opportunity for constructive, scholarly feedback among colleagues in our respective programs and departments, especially when manuscripts or research is centered on Black-Americans or cultural-specific concerns. Moreover, the social interaction and bonding during this time was vital to enhancing my self- and academic efficacy. In my opinion, this is how literal or figurative storms should be faced in both personal and professional environments: with solidarity. No movement is done alone.
Dr. Christy Howard
Even though I consider myself to be optimistic, the experience at the Cottage and moving to Patty’s Place left me feeling uneasy. I should have been relieved as Authors O and C worked on the logistics of moving to Patty’s Place, yet I was still apprehensive. It looked beautiful in the online images. However, I knew that first impressions online could be deceiving. They show the viewer what they want us to see, just as the first impressions of the people we meet in academia can be deceiving. They can present a false sense of welcome and safety, deceiving us with their help and kindness, only to be the ones who often get the storms brewing. Because of my personal experience with this, I often do not trust the beauty of things and people in academia. Some might call this paranoia, but Black women know it is often our reality.
As Black women, we are accustomed to having to produce with “less than.” While our white colleagues are often given more than they need, we are often asked to work with less funding, less time, and less support, while at the same time more responsibilities are piled on. These circumstances make it difficult to relax and enjoy our time in this work. It makes us more apprehensive, knowing that even in the calm, another storm is brewing. Even as we celebrate our grants, publications, or promotions, people are questioning our ability and speculating about who helped us gain these achievements and whether we are really qualified to receive them. Some people openly discuss the idea that perhaps we were given these achievements as a “handout” because of the color of our skin as opposed to acknowledging the immense time and effort we put into the process. It can be difficult to celebrate the new “places” we find ourselves in like Patty’s Place or the place of calm in our workspaces, because we know that quite often that even in the calm, another storm is on the horizon.
One of the beautiful things about Black women is that as the storms come into our lives, we are prepared to weather them. We are equipped to figure it out. The retreat proved to be no different, but this time, we were not “one of few” in the context of academia; we were collectively prepared and united to face the obstacle of claiming our time in the context of our retreat. While we weathered the storm, we shared the brilliance of our work, stories about our families, experiences in the profession, and we bonded. The storm did not break us. Instead, it connected us and provided a much-needed space to learn with and from each other.
Discussion
In the current study, four BWF recounted their experiences at their first FOC writing retreat. We identified two major themes in our findings: (a) making the best of misrepresentation and (b) figuring it out and facing the storm. In the following section, we will discuss how our findings relate to the existing literature as well as how they offer new understanding of BWF experiences navigating academia.
Making the Best of Misrepresentation: Challenges Black Women Face in the Academy
Making the best of misrepresentation speaks to the numerous challenges BWF face in academe. The authors highlighted preparation to get to the writing retreat, misrepresentation faced after arriving at the Cottage, a lack of support from the company representative, the task of having to find alternative housing on their own, and relocation to a new house. These experiences support the existing literature that reflects the additional burdens faced by Black women as they seek to achieve promotion and tenure (Gutiérrez et al. 2012). These challenges not only are emotionally taxing but also have direct consequences on Black women’s success in the Academy (de Lourdes Machado-Taylor, White, and Gouveia 2014; Deutsch and Yao 2014). While Black women are held to the same and, in many cases, higher standards as their white and majority-culture counterparts, these experiences are often unacknowledged in promotion and tenure decisions.
Thus, the current study highlights the continuing need for administrators to move beyond recruitment and shift to retention efforts (Cartwright et al. 2018). Those in power cannot simply judge based on the materials presented in a dossier as so much of the extra work done is uncompensated, undervalued, and undocumented (Guillaume and Apodaca 2020). While each of the authors came from different contexts, perspectives, and life experiences going into the retreat, it is important to note that none were exempt from facing this challenge. This finding suggests that while Black women may represent diverse disciplines and other cultural identities (e.g., parental and marital status), the experiences of being a Black woman can be most salient (Crenshaw 1989).
Figuring it Out and Facing the Storm: Perseverance and Resilience in the Academy
The second theme highlighted BWF’s ability to navigate and persevere through dire circumstances in higher education. In the retreat, the challenges included finding somewhere else for lodging and still meeting the writing goals. As discussed earlier, challenges in the Academy are wide-ranging.
It is likely that this perseverance and resilience was fostered and sustained through the community built amongst the authors. Overstreet (2019) highlighted the need for both mentorship and peer support for Black women to be successful in higher education. However, these findings suggest that mentors may not always be readily available and that Black women peers are often navigating the roles of both guide and peer for fellow Black women colleagues. Therefore, while they may have made the decision to stay, so many other Black women may be forced to leave the academy because of isolation (Kelly and Winkle-Wagner 2017).
While it is credible to celebrate Black women’s resilience, it is important not to perpetuate the BSW phenomenon (Avent Harris 2019; Overstreet 2019). While the authors highlighted this success in their narratives, they serve as a metaphor for how BWF may acknowledge the triumphs and suppress the emotional burdens of the barriers they face. The BSW phenomenon could potentially subject Black women to increased emotional and physical exhaustion and psychological distress (Nelson, Cardemil, and Adeoye 2016). Thus Black women deserve safe spaces in academia to be vulnerable and be supported without fear of negative consequences.
Implications
Readers can glean several implications from this article that may support the retention of BWF. The recruitment, retention, and advancement of BWF benefit from personal and professional support systems within and outside the university.
Persistence
We operationalize persistence as the continuation of one’s progress toward the completion of a goal with ongoing belief in one’s ability to perform actions required to attain designated outcomes. A Black woman in academe has to possess a hefty amount of persistence. After getting settled into the second retreat home, the writing started to flow. We each retreated to our spot in the house and started to work on our respective projects. It was a rainy day and there was a sudden power outage. Did we call it a day and hit the lake? Did we try to track down the number to the power company to investigate the issue? Neither. We decided to adjust as necessary to complete our respective projects. A few of the sister scholars went outside to use the natural sunlight to write well into the evening. We continued to write as the bars on our computer batteries started to dwindle. It never crossed our minds to take our eyes off of our goal. We shared batteries and Wi-Fi hotspots to keep persisting. I reflected on the concepts of mutual empowerment (Hostetler et al. 2018) as Black women have to work in harmony with each other and can have a shared sense of success when meeting their goals.
Mentorships
The storm is much easier to face if you have co-conspirators. Love (2019) proposed that co-conspirators put themselves in positions to create positive change for underrepresented groups while not taking power from persons in these respective groups. Black women should seek both within-group (e.g., same race or gender) and cross-cultural mentors who are genuinely supportive of their success. Within-group mentors may help Black women junior faculty members develop a greater level of identity consciousness and empower them to confront systemic oppression at PWIs (Grant 2012; Pope and Edwards 2016). If Black women junior faculty members are not able to conduct faculty retreats, another alternative is to hold affinity groups (Neal-Barnett et al. 2011; Tauriac et al. 2013). These could be comprised of BWF across multiple disciplines or Black women staff, providing a safe space for students and faculty to address common concerns through open dialogue and creating professional networking opportunities (Crumb et al. 2019).
In circumstances in which within-group mentorships are difficult to establish, cross-cultural mentors are useful. Black women can consider seeking mentorship from someone who holds different identities from them or someone who is further along in their professional career/tenure status. As an example, we (all four authors) have been mentored by senior white women faculty who shared outlines/agendas of their previous faculty retreats. Furthermore, within-group and cross-cultural mentorships are useful for securing grants and furthering research initiatives, which may be important to pre-tenure track faculty. However, mentors from majority identities need to be sensitive to the fact that their experiences may be vastly different from FOC mentees (Purgason et al. 2016). For instance, our writing retreat was filled with challenges and circumstances they had not faced even though we followed the format they provided. This notion is applicable to the tenure process as well. Although FOC may follow the guidance and advice of successful mentors, it is inevitable that their journey will be different due to institutional racism and sexism.
Institutional Support
As we explained, the FOC group was born out of efforts by our junior FOC-led diversity committee. It has had little tangible support from leadership aside from allowing us the space to meet. We plan, schedule, and facilitate the meetings. We planned and paid for the retreat. We were not surprised, however, when in the aftermath of the retreat, the university wanted to highlight our work in a newsletter for new faculty orientation. Black women are often tokenized in the Academy, thus, as Kelly and McCann (2014, 683) explained, “being defined by the color of their skin to benefit the institution.” Though our institution contributed little to the retreat, they wanted the opportunity to display us to incoming employees. We carefully drafted a blurb to showcase our work, while making it clear that this was the result of our own ingenuity. Our blurb was modified to a more “neutral” tone (see Table 1). In order for FOC to feel supported and valued at institutions of higher education, support needs to be far less superficial. Too often Black women receive empty or belated “support” behind closed doors. We do not need or want the kind of support that is not backed by public validation and equitable action.
Comparison of Versions of FOC Retreat Blurb for University Newsletter.
Collective Voice and Mutual Support Systems
Collective spaces such as the writing retreat help to build collective voice. If administrators are serious about their commitment to retaining Black women, they must be willing to support spaces where BWF find collective voice. As illustrated throughout our narratives, having a mutual support system is a key element of Black women’s well-being. While we know that Black women will find a way to succeed regardless of the obstacles we face, it is immeasurably more manageable when we don’t feel alone. #WeGettingTenure and the larger FOC group have served as lifelines for all of us, allowing us to do more than survive in academia. With the support and understanding of our sister scholars, we find ourselves thriving. As a matter of fact, between the retreat and the time of this article’s initial review, two of us have earned tenure and promotion. The remaining two have received promising feedback as we have begun the tenure and promotion process a year early.
Conclusion
There are many systemic challenges facing BWF as they navigate the tenure and promotion process. This article shares the story of a FOC writing retreat that mirrored many of the successes and challenges they faced in their personal and professional journeys. Future studies on Black women in academia are warranted and could include the use of focus groups or artifact data that will yield additional findings, provide richness and depth to the current topic, or present contrasting data. A notable delimitation of this article is that it captures the experiences of four BWF at one university; however, other women FOC may find these lived experiences transferable and relatable.
It is our hope that this article provides an understanding of how BWF can lean on their cultural strengths and ingenuities as a means to persist and advance in the professoriate. Additionally, our hope is that program administrators and other stakeholders will use the content of this article to address issues of racism, classism, and sexism and to implement policies to ensure that the higher education climate is welcoming and supportive of the advancement of BWF.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
