You Called Her a Rising Star In 2019.
Now You Call Her "Difficult." She Did Not Change, Her Power Did.

Stop telling Black women to "just be yourself" or “be authentic” at work. That advice assumes being yourself costs everyone the same. It does not.
This is aimed at leaders over 55 who still sign off on promotions, succession plans and restructures. You hold more power to change this than anyone and you have less time left to use it.
The Disappearing Leadership Pipeline
The warning signs are already visible. In the United States, employment among Black women fell by roughly 318,000 between February and June 2025, while subsequent analysis found that college-educated Black women and public-sector workers were among those experiencing some of the sharpest losses. Across 2025, the employment rate for
Black women fell by 1.4 percentage points to 55.7%, one of its steepest one-year declines in a quarter of a century. This matters because Black women have historically been disproportionately represented in public-sector employment, including the federal workforce, where they have accounted for almost twice their share of the wider civilian labour force.
The deterioration sits inside a wider racial labour-market divide. Black unemployment averaged 7% during the first half of 2026, while White unemployment remained broadly unchanged compared with the same period a year earlier. These figures do not prove that AI, federal retrenchment or the rollback of DEI initiatives individually caused the disparity.
They point instead to a more complicated vulnerability: when organisations restructure, occupational concentration, seniority, sector exposure and longstanding inequalities in progression can determine who absorbs the shock.
The UK presents a different labour market, but some of the underlying progression problems are familiar. As of 2026, there remains no Black woman chief executive in the FTSE 100. Research into Black British working life has found widespread experiences of racial discrimination and pressure to modify identity in order to fit workplace cultures. In technology, the numbers become even more striking. Black women accounted for just 0.6% of UK IT specialists in 2024, down from 0.7% when BCS began tracking the figure in 2022.
That last pattern may be the more important one to watch. Representation cannot be understood simply by counting who enters an organisation. The harder question is who progresses, who remains, who acquires decision-making authority and who disappears from the pipeline before senior opportunities become available. In an economy being reorganised around AI, that distinction between access and progression could become one of the defining leadership questions of the next decade.
What "Be Authentic" Looks Like From Her Side
Picture a Black woman at director level in a quarterly review. She pushes back on a timeline she knows will fail. Ten minutes earlier, a white male peer made almost the same point and was praised as "commercially sharp." After the meeting she is told she "came across strong or aggressive" and should "think about tone."
So in the next meeting she softens it. She frames the objection as a question, smiles more and rewrites the follow-up email three times before sending it.
That is code-switching.
Faith Wambura Ngunjiri, Kathy-Ann Hernandez and Natasha Turman argue it is a survival strategy, not a failure of authenticity. Authentic leadership theory says know yourself and be transparent. It rarely asks what happens when your transparency gets read through the "angry Black woman" stereotype.
Do that for twenty years and it shows up in the body. Arline Geronimus calls it weathering. The constant vigilance of proving competence and managing how you are perceived causes measurable physical wear, including earlier onset of age-related illness. That is why "resilience" is the wrong word. It makes her responsible for absorbing a cost the organisation created.
When Influence Changes the Temperature
There is a point in some careers when being recognised as talented and being recognised as powerful stop producing the same organisational response.
Organisational psychologist Kecia M. Thomas and colleagues gave this dynamic a provocative name: the “pet-to-threat” phenomenon. Their research into women of colour at mid-career explored how someone who is initially regarded as promising, likeable and worthy of development can experience a different response as her expertise, independence and authority increase.
Later research examining Black professional women has continued to identify the phenomenon, particularly where challenging established expectations changes how competence and behaviour are interpreted.
Consider what that might look like across a career. At 28, a high-performing Black woman may be selected for the corporate careers page, invited onto a diversity panel and described as bringing a valuable new perspective. These opportunities can be genuine recognition. Yet visibility is not necessarily the same thing as influence.
By 42, she may control a significant budget, lead a function, question strategic decisions and sponsor the next generation of talent. Her communication style may not have materially changed. What has changed is the consequence of her voice. She is no longer simply contributing to the organisation, she is participating in decisions about resources, priorities, people and power.
Thomas's framework raises an uncomfortable but commercially important question “what happens when the talent an organisation was comfortable developing becomes powerful enough to challenge it?”
This does not mean every difficult performance conversation involving a Black woman is evidence of racial or gender bias. Nor does it mean organisations should avoid legitimate scrutiny of senior leaders. The more useful leadership question is whether “equivalent behaviours are being interpreted consistently as people acquire greater authority.”
That distinction matters.
If confidence is praised at junior level but recorded as aggression at senior level, if challenge is welcomed until it affects resource allocation or if sponsorship weakens precisely when an individual becomes a credible contender for greater authority, the organisation may have a progression problem that its recruitment statistics cannot reveal.
The risk, then, is larger than whether one talented woman feels welcome. It is whether an organisation has become highly effective at identifying diverse talent but less effective at transferring genuine authority to it.
That is where representation stops being a numbers question and becomes a leadership question.
What You Can Do With the Power You Have
Sponsor, do not just mentor.
Mentoring is coffee and advice. Sponsorship is saying her name when the COO role is discussed and putting your reputation behind it. If everyone you have sponsored in the last five years looks like you, that's affinity bias and it won't correct itself.
Pull your own data.
Look at three years of promotion rates, exits and performance ratings by race and gender. Then look for the specific pattern. Who gets "exceeds" on results but "needs development" on "leadership presence"? Who chairs the network, on boards the new starters and sits on every panel and does any of it count at review?
Read the feedback language.
Words like "abrasive," "tone," "not ready yet" and "needs polish" matter. If they cluster around one group, you have found your mechanism.
Talk to the women who left.
Many of those pushed out in the last two years now run consultancies and businesses. If you want them back as staff or partners, a new DEI statement will not do it. They will want to know what changed about the manager, the process and the pay.
Watch what your younger staff are watching.
They judge you by what you do, not what you post. When a 30-year-old asks why the leadership team looks the same as it did in 2015, "we are on a journey" is the answer that loses her.
The Question For You
If you are over 55, you may have five to ten years of real influence left. The question is not whether you believe in authenticity. It is whether the promotions, succession plans and restructures you approve in that time keep Black women in the building or quietly push them out.
If you are a Black woman or woman of colour whose career changed because someone did more than offer advice, recognise them. Name the sponsor who opened the room, advocated for you when you were not there and put their own credibility behind your potential.
Then consider the more important question “whose name are you putting forward now?” Progress becomes power when sponsorship does not stop with us, but moves through us.

