I’m a Black woman who quit the State Department over racial gaslighting. Here’s why prestigious workplaces can be toxic for people like me

That night, as the tears of confusion fell, I couldn’t sleep. The next morning, I arrived at work nearly half an hour late, struggling to muster the will to be at work. I had consistently been experiencing something with this manager where I felt that he saw me as someone I did not recognize. But this last interaction felt like the straw that broke the camel’s back. I had to do a gut check with another coworker. I told her what happened.

“You?” she replied, her face contorted to show her confusion and astonishment. She went on to say that if he thought I challenged his authority, he would really struggle if he had to work with some of our other colleagues.

I knew exactly who she was talking about. Our office had some incredibly aggressive characters–it was the U.S. State Department, for goodness’ sake, an organization riddled with destructively competitive personalities–but we both knew I was not one of them.

So, what made me appear so aggressive to him? What made me the threat or challenge to his authority? I thought back. Other people had spoken up during meetings. Other people had questioned his ideas. But I was the Black one. I didn’t have the vocabulary for it then, but I later learned I was experiencing a detrimental phenomenon called gaslighting. And when I tried to confront it, racial gaslighting.

Racial gaslighting

Though I had acrobatically contorted myself so that my Blackness would not appear threatening–excessive smiling, casual open conversations, establishing a “sunshine committee” for the office using a ridiculous amount of my own funds to decorate for the holidays–it was not enough. Somehow, some miraculous way, I had become the stereotype of the angry, aggressive, Black woman.

Devastated, I reported the issue to my boss’ superior. Then, I confronted my boss. He initially denied that my race triggered his response, saying it was just my style. Later, after a bit of mediation between his boss and I, he issued a carefully crafted apology. But I didn’t feel safe anymore. From that moment on, I was muffled. Like a restrained asylee, I would sit in meetings and hold myself back. The colleague I had confided in, a white woman, frustrated with my clear lack of ability to speak in meetings, offered to speak on my behalf. I could give my thoughts to her, and she could deliver them for me. The thought left me feeling nauseous, more defeated, enraged.

As time went on, I felt myself sinking, as if going into the Sunken Place. I would sleep one or two hours a night, even with melatonin. I would have moments multiple times a week where I was doing something ordinary like typing, and suddenly my heart would start to race, my body would stiffen, and my palms would face up–had a thought of work just sent another panic attack through my body? When I wasn’t at work, I would lay in bed, close the curtains, and lock myself in my room until my husband forced me to say goodnight to the kids. My world was a fog, and this bubbly girl from the friendly South had become a shell of herself.

This experience, in addition to other similar experiences, led me to leave my job as a foreign service officer. And upon discussing my decision to leave with other Black women, I realized something: what happened to me isn’t rare. Many of the professional Black women I know working in prestigious institutions, where there aren’t many other people who look like us, say they have faced gaslighting and racial gaslighting. It’s a process of someone using forms of distortion and manipulation to gain power over another person, making them doubt themselves and feel alone.

The exact statistics on how often gaslighting or occurs are difficult to pinpoint, but there are films, published research, and countless news articles on the topic, signaling a significant societal reckoning with the issue.

Heather Z. Lyons, Ph.D., is a licensed psychologist and professor who has researched and treated multiple clients experiencing this phenomenon. I spoke with her about this issue. She is not surprised that many Black women in prestigious organizations say they experience this. They are often on the downside of power from at least two identities, including race and gender, among others.

“These are competitive environments, and in competitive environments, when we feel like resources are scarce, then we are more likely to get into us vs. them conceptualizations,” says Dr. Lyons.

“I’ve seen friends and clients just burn out. It’s become this dichotomy–it’s like my job or my mental health… At the extreme, folks have just decided to opt-out.”

Lyons talks about a wearing that happens like sandpaper rubbing against wood, a slow chipping away of self-worth. Similar to when people experience microaggressions, racial gaslighting can be chronic, acute, and difficult to recognize.

In my experience, this is true. The State Department is incredibly competitive; you either move up or eventually you tick out. So, for the limited spots that people can be promoted into, your colleagues and sometimes even your managers become your competition. Talk about an us vs. them setup. My manager is the product of a system.

Diplomats are also trained to be smooth. Their job is a combination of construction and manipulation. You want people to see the world the way you see it, to see your allies and your enemies the way you see them. But what happens when you turn these skills inwards? When you begin to manipulate and gaslight your colleagues for power and control?

“With this type of experience, there’s lower self-esteem. [Victims encounter] depression, anxiety, and even an increase in binge drinking and distorted eating,” Dr. Lyons says.

Blinken’s uphill battle

When I asked Secretary of State Antony Blinken about diversity and inclusion efforts during an interview intended to help recruit young people and minorities in November of 2022, he opened with a line he has used time and time again, noting that he wants to create a State Department that reflects America.

“That’s not just because it is the right thing to do; it’s because it’s the smart and necessary thing to do,” he told me. “Think about this: We’re operating in an incredibly diverse world, and the greatest strength that we bring to the table is our own diversity.”

He went on to describe how important it was that we had diversity of thought, experience, and perspective on every issue. And how we will shortchange our country and our foreign policy if we don’t actively diversify the diplomatic corps, noting many programs the Department has started to try to diversify its personnel, such as paid internships.

And under Blinken, the State Department has tried some of the solutions experts recommend for organizations. In 2021, the Secretary appointed Ambassador Gina Abercrombie-Winstanley, a Black woman, as the first Chief Diversity and Inclusion Officer. However, similar to the experience of Black women in these types of roles across various organizations, her efforts faced scrutiny, and she retired out of the job.

Under Ambassador Gina Abercrombie-Winstanley’s leadership, the department adopted performance-based diversity and inclusion metrics for employees. I’ve seen some employees prompted to do positive things to support others because of this, such as adjusting scanners for wheelchair users to more easily provide their fingerprints. Yet, I’ve also seen the creative anamorphosis diplomats have used to say they are now engaged in activities that promote diversity and inclusion–stretching the definition to the point of meaninglessness.

Even under Secretary Blinken’s leadership, not enough has changed. Black members of the diplomatic corps, both prominent and entry-level, are continuously sounding the alarm internally and externally, painting a similar picture.

Like many prestigious, long-standing institutions, the State Department is exclusionary by design, with racism and misogyny deeply embedded in its structure. It is hard to change. Women, minorities, and particularly Black women diplomats make it in but still suffer from the entrenched norms of behavior that leave them disadvantaged and vulnerable in such a cutthroat environment. These are the types of work environments where you need people who are looking out for you. And the lack of allies in leadership for Black women has left them significantly distressed. In a way I chose to resign, in another way I felt like I was pushed to the brink. Silenced. Demoralized.

More than an office issue

I used to get upset at the term resilience. At the State Department, I felt like the term had become a management weapon of organizational gaslighting. Instead of seriously tackling and addressing concerns, they flipped the responsibility on employees. The problem then was not the lack of response but your lack of resilience. It was used pervasively. But I’ve since learned to embrace the term again. As many experts in racial gaslighting say, sometimes you just have to leave the job. And for me, my best showing of resilience was leaving.

For individuals in these situations, Dr. Lyons recommends several solutions to build up resilience. These include:

• Reality testing: Reach out to others. Having a group with other Black women or white allies who you can talk to and safely gut-check like I did with my colleague.

• Documenting your experiences: Some situations may seem so surreal that you won’t even recognize the pattern until you have a chance to look back. It can be slow and hard to remember without documentation.

• Speaking up in the moment: While it may not always be prudent,  sometimes, calling things out can be helpful. Dr. Lyons suggests phrases like, “that is not my experience” or “I disagree with you.”

People would not believe what internal diplomacy looks like in consulates and embassies around the world. As foreign service officers jockey and jive for influence, power, and a sense of significance, minorities, deprived of institutional support, are falling out of the ranks, victim to gaslighting and other adversities. 

Having a toxic workplace that causes perpetual harm to people of color is one issue–it’s entirely another when this environment is supposed to represent our foreign policy globally. It is no coincidence that the same organization that struggles to recognize and address the needs of Black and brown people internally struggles to create humane policies towards similar groups externally.

For the State Department, this is an office issue, but it is also something greater. The question then becomes: What global damage do we do when institutionalized racism, competition over scarce resources, and the need for power over others leads us to gaslight other countries around the world?

Jenny Abamu melds incisive analysis with unexplored narratives from her journey as a journalist and former U.S. diplomat in her newsletter and forthcoming book Gaslit Girl.

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