Today I read a memo by former Facebook employee Mark Luckie about what he saw as a failure by Facebook to protect, include, and promote its Black users and employees.

Luckie’s observations included statistics about how much of the Black population utilized FB’s platforms – 70% on FB and 43% on Instagram, and that, ‘Black people are driving the kind of meaningful social interactions Facebook is striving to facilitate.’ And that the safe spaces we are striving for on FB and those inroads can and are easily derailed by biased reporting from other users and that leads to indefinitely suspended accounts and removed content. This type of aggressive ‘policing’ of content from Black users can obviously cause us to be weary of the platform and its powers that be, just like in real life. Yet we continue to use Facebook because it is popular and the one’s we are looking to connect with can be reached there.

He also highlights Facebook’s engagement- whether they are sponsored events or promotion on the platforms – with power users, content creators/influencers who are overwhelmingly not minorities, that resources continually go to those who already have a healthy base and, in this practice there is increasing disparity of access to minority communities.

What Luckie described as his experience at his actual workplace is a story that I can validate as not being exclusive to the company but to the culture of tech. I work in an industry that basically always looks like a WeWork office. We have odd hours, lax dress codes, pets roaming and beer in our fridges.

Outwardly this is dope and the envy of my friends who work in more traditional and rigid settings, but this is superficial cool. Inwardly there is this assumption by young white people that their black counterparts are on the same playing field as them while continuing to push forward racially charged undertones and micro-aggressions.

I’ve had multiple white colleagues (at every single place of work) think my hair is an appropriate topic of discussion. We’ve never discussed white people's hair. I’ve had a white, male boss who believed it was ok to ask me directly about my opinion on removing Confederate statues in front of a group of all-white colleagues, while announcing he clearly didn’t agree with the practice.

To my benefit I remember telling him, "I’m totally on board with removing the statues of people who used Black people as chattel and thought we were less than a person. I also think Black people should be the ones removing these statues with hammers and anything else they want”.

I had a Latino woman director who worked as an advocate on behalf of white men and who was a devout Catholic that felt comfortable telling me to miss the funeral of my best friend's dad, so I wouldn’t miss a kick-off call. This woman also created an environment so unhealthy for me exclusively at my job that I broke down in tears in my office and reported her to HR. Spoiler alert – I left the company willfully with the opportunity to return and she was later fired for being insubordinate.

I currently work in Hollywood and not one of the young, white people who work here have engaged any type of courteous behavior towards me, instead avoiding eye contact and ceasing conversation when I approach or ride in an elevator.

No one in these homogenous offices has ever said hello, good morning, good afternoon without me first engaging them. I’ve stopped pretending to care and keep my energy for positive vibes I receive. As a coping mechanism at a company with one other black employee, we would tap the ‘dark side’ of our hands in view of each other so that we could meet up in the kitchen for BPT (Black People Time).

I know these experiences are not unique to me and I cannot say I have exclusively had sh*t bosses and coworkers, but I think the fact that I have had racially charged interactions at work or biased employers is enough to point to the obvious need for change.

So, I’ve laid out my issues but here is my honest opinion.

We can’t teach acceptance to people who think their behavior is already acceptable. People are less invested when they cannot see the benefit for themselves, and how do you show the group in power that the group they have marginalized deserves their investment?

If you are a Black person who feels isolated, make the effort to communicate with other Black people in your office regardless of role, and if there are none, joining a professional organization specifically for us is the next best thing.

And if by chance you are a non-Black reader, be inclusive of your Black and brown colleagues, do not assume that we accept or fulfill stereotypes. I’m saying, we may like and dislike the same things as you, but you won’t know until you start a conversation, and none of the conversations you start should be about the plight of Black people or their appearance or a black people specific question. When and if we feel comfortable, we will make the space for this type of conversation where appropriate.

I propose a long-term goal for Black employees at large corporations to continue to organize ‘Black@’ groups internally and build a national network that works together towards common goals. I especially promote more Black investment into Black founded companies to encourage growth and more opportunities for us.

Mark Luckie

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