If you’ve seen the clip of Serena Williams being penalized for respectfully voicing her opinion of an unfair call and unfair treatment (especially in comparison to her male counterparts), then you, my friend, have witnessed how it feels to be a black woman in the workplace — hell, life — every day.

First off all (insert neck roll and tongue click), we have to work harder to even be recognized for our efforts. For some reason, it’s assumed that we will pick up everyone’s slack and take care of everyone’s problems without complaint.

And then when we do complain, instead of being seen as a human voicing our opinions, ideas or concerns, we are seen as the stereotypical, nagging “angry black woman.” Oh, we initially start off politically correct and will politely code-switch to assimilate, but we still aren’t heard. It isn’t until we raise our voice and demand to be seen that we get attention. But by that point, we are so tired of being invisible and ignored, that we could care less about your feelings and will tell you like it is  —  no cut cards, no bars held.

Why are you angry, we're ask? Well, Serena very bluntly tells you why. Every year she comes on that court, she is treated unfairly and you can be damned sure it’s because of her extreme skill and athletic ability, the color of her skin  — or both. Oh, and her refusal to wipe white tears (but instead, she drinks them). We demand equality, respect and recognition of our hard work that seems so hard to obtain, and we are constantly penalized , often  seen as bitchy and barbaric for using our voice to be heard and being treated fairly.

I personally think she handled the situation extremely well, and she had to. She knew what stage she was on and she couldn’t let the full Compton come out. In watching that clip, I instantly wanted to comfort Serena, because I know exactly how it feels to have your voice stomped on and trashed; I know how it feels to have your humanity disregarded and the need to beg and plea to be heard  — something that almost every person of color has to do every day.

She was out there on the court all alone, her sister Venus far away in the stands. All I could think that if she was a white man, another white man would have came over there to have his back and set that ref straight, make a phone call and get the umpire's call likely reversed. Instead, she held her ground, alone, with no one coming to her rescue (per the usual). We stand tall, strong and face our battles head on, because we HAVE to. I do not know if Serena was right or wrong, and I don’t know the official rules of tennis, but I do know this clip exemplifies my life in the workplace on a daily basis. In a blog post at 8:20 with Love, Stella Oloyede says it even better.

I know how it feels to feel helpless, hopeless and defenseless, being the only person of color in the room, defending your existence, talent and intelligence. No Serena, you aren’t crazy and you aren’t alone. Even when you’re the greatest athlete in the world, workplace discrimination is a real thing, and black women face it in extremely disproportionate numbers. Just as Serena, we have to keep our heads held high, hold back the tears, shake it off and get back to the grind. We will be seen and we will be heard.

#NikeBLACK GIRL MAGICBlack-lives-matterraical discriminationSerena-williamsTennistennis tutuUS Open 2018