Overworked but underutilized
It is bittersweet to have language, words, an analysis, historical context and to be positioned to be better heard saying the things I could never say when I worked for others.
While it does feel validating and healing, it also is frustrating and heartbreaking to see the same patterns perpetuate themselves over and over again. It doesn’t matter what millennium or what continent we are on, small town or big city, global corporation or local non-profit.
One of those patterns is that of being overworked but underutilized.
What that means is that staff, usually those least aligned with power and privilege whether because of their identity, position in the organization, or both, are expected to carry a heavy workload without appropriate compensation or support, and they are expected to do so with little complaint or pushback either.
The assumption is that they will work miracles with little time, money or other resources. Those who raise concerns about unrealistic expectations or lack of resources risk being characterized as “not a team player” or “divisive” or a “troublemaker” or they are blamed for being poor performers. Meanwhile, those with more privilege, usually white men, are the first ones to get money and other resources thrown at them to fix crises that they are rarely held accountable for.
This often happens to BIPOC staff, especially women of color, and, as usual, particularly Black women. It also happens to white women, especially in very male dominated environments.
Not only are we expected to carry an overly heavy workload, but we are often also kept from being able to fulfill our potential through work that is more meaningful and impactful, in alignment with our talents, skills and experience, and that would benefit the organization.
Or we are hired to do a job and then punished for doing it, many times getting moved to less meaningful more administrative work or getting let go from the organization altogether.
This is a pattern that comes directly from slavery and colonization, and is embedded in our culture at large. It is extractive capitalism at its best… yet ironically does not result in maximum output overall.
In fact, systems of oppression create a devastating LOSS of potential at a global scale because the goal isn’t actually maximum output, but advantage for the few, at the expense of the many.
Even if we don’t subscribe to that belief, it is hard not to be complicit with the systems that are embedded in every aspect of our culture.
So what do we do?
Awareness is the first step. Being able to name these patterns is the first step. NOT punishing those who name these patterns is the first step.
And then it takes what it always takes - co-creating a path forward by getting input and feedback from those impacted by decisions, and creating feedback loops to see if the impact created is in alignment with intentions based on the self-identified needs of those most impacted by systems of oppression.
It means understanding that feedback is a gift, no matter what the wrapping paper, especially when from those with less contextual power and privilege than us, and that even the feedback that is hardest to hear is rarely personal, rarely intended as an attack, even if said in frustration and anger, and is usually given those who most care about the organization because those who have, often understandably, given up, are not going to expend the energy and take the risk trying.
It means all of us undoing our socialization into these systems, making visible the invisible work that we and others do, and advocating for recognition, compensation and support. It won’t happen overnight, but those of us in positions of leadership carry a greater responsibility for making the necessary shifts.
It can feel impossible to shift - believe me, I know - but sharing honestly and transparently can create the accountability needed for progress.
Banner photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash