Black women make up 64.1% of bachelor’s degrees earned by Black college students. When it comes to masters degrees, the figure becomes 71.5%. As for doctoral, medical, and dental degrees, 65.9% of them have been obtained by black women. In other words, Black women have arrived on the scene of higher education, and we have plans to stay. These figures that I cited come from a fast facts article posted by the AAUW. The next Black Woman CEO may be on your paraprofessional staff at this very moment. However pretty the glory, the journey to the degree does not always match its shine. The post details several other shocking statistics that show the disparities of representation for black women in higher education. In the same work, you’ll learn that while black women make up about 7% of the population only 2.6% of degrees in computer sciences, 2.8% of physical sciences and a shockingly lower 0.99% of engineering degrees belong to black women.
With that said, we may rejoice in our current achievements, but there is a vast amount of room for more progress. For black woman-identifying students who choose to become resident advisors, the journey of higher education can become far more complex. While scholarship on black woman resident advisors is sparse, The little that exists proves itself important and insightful. As a black woman in residence myself, I feel compelled to tell the untold story of the black woman in the residential sphere, leaving you with insight on what may not always be so visible.
The “Double Whammy”
In Ericka Roland & Vonzell Agosto’s Black Women Resident Assistants: Seeking and Serving as Bridges, Mentors, Advisors, Filters, and Community Builders a student animatedly details her experience as a Black Woman RA with the descriptor of a “double whammy”. This RA describes the daunting nature of the competing responsibilities that come with navigating social identity in occupational spaces. Not only are these students faced with the typical challenges of the RA role, but they are also plagued with the possibility of facing micro-agressions both big and small. At times, the incident will be minor. In other instances, Black Women RAs will face blatant misogynoir.
In facing these stressors, the Black woman resident advisor may find herself at a crossroads when handling bias incidents and heavy conversations on current topics. Shall she state her honest truth or shall she suppress the causes of the identity so viscerally personal to her? Should she simply assume duties as assigned? Choosing between the two can easily lead to dissonance, discomfort, and unfortunate additional stress for the RA.
Doubly oppressed, the Black woman RA may struggle to find her place in the residence hall. The environment may require her to behave in a manner that fits one of two extremes. On one hand, she may be expected to suppress the aspects of her identity in a forced professional assimilation. On the other, she is expected to perform for her white residents and perhaps even her staff; she is meant to be boisterous and sociable — a caricature. Some will pendulum swing based on the predicament, others will rest on the side that so benefits them, and many will hardly be aware that they even adapt, but all will face additional challenges in residential spaces.
The Gift of Fatigue
Roland & Agosto’s work also demonstrates that Black woman resident assistants saw themselves far more in a role of service and giving than their Black man counterparts. While RAs who identified as Black men saw themselves as policy enforcers, Black women saw themselves as a support system and a resource. Black women in workspaces are often looked to in this manner while also being expected to provide perspective and voices to those they share identities with. In this situation, the Black woman RA is now carrying the weight of not only her own reputation, but that of her race and gender, performing the complex balancing act when the two intersect. The Black woman resident advisor is thus, selfless in more ways than one. She is now selfless in that she must be emotionally available at all times; she is also selfless in that the pressure to assimilate or conform leaves no room for personhood.
The compassion of a Black woman is the gift that keeps on giving. In my experience, this is true. However, even the most supportive of people need a break of their own. The compound effects of doubled oppression suppressed authenticity, and unreasonably high standards are notable. Without proper support of their own, these professionals may experience more intense bouts of burn out and fatigue.
Striving for Support
Often going unsupported within their designated departments, RAs who identify as Black women generate their own personal support systems for dealing with these experiences. While it was not often that participants in Roland & Agosto’s study were supervised by Black women, one the rare occasion that they were, safe spaces were often facilitated by the supervisor. In more typical situations, these students turn to their families, their friends, and other pockets of campus where they have discovered community. For some, refuge is found in religious or spiritual practice while others found comfort in phone conversations with parents.
Black women in residential advisor roles may be paving their own way to support, but this does not absolve supervisors of their role as a pillar. Like with any other demographic, the needs of Black woman RAs will vary based on the individual. Many will only feel comfortable confiding in their external systems. Others will find comfort in vulnerability with supervisors. Both deserve the same amount of backing, understanding, and empathy. There are many things that those on the outside of the experience of Black womanhood will never understand. Even so, allyship should remain a prominent function of the supervisory relationship.
Only Human
I’ll leave you with this: despite all of these things, there is still joy to be found. Black woman RAs may fondly recall the opportunity to bond with other Black residents. They may cultivate community. They may take pride in their position. They may embrace their journey into higher education, despite the hurdles its history has placed at the entryway. There is much to be said about the experience of RAs of color in residence halls, yet so little research on the subject matter. Yet and still, Black women in residence halls continue to thrive and support their residents accordingly. As always, they rise to the occasion. As Black women, their resilience may paint them as invincible superwomen. However, they are not superwomen, but rather, human beings. More than they are paraprofessionals or senior staff members, Black women in residence education are people. As such, they are deserving of all of the empathy, care and compassion that they give their communities in return.
