The Weaponization of Black Women in Leadership
The Messenger Who Pays the Price
Weaponization in the workplace happens when individuals are put in positions where they are expected to take on the hardest tasks, withstand the heaviest criticism, and shield others from discomfort. Their presence and perceived strength are used as cover, while those around them step back.
An unpopular decision has been made, and someone has to deliver the message. That task is often handed to a Black woman. She is described as strong enough, tough enough, and able to handle whatever comes. The room relaxes as the pressure shifts to her. When the pushback arrives,
she is left to face it alone.
The Cost in Body and Spirit
I experienced this when I transitioned to work in a new state and region. I received instant and constant critique. I was seen as many things at once, yet none of them seemed accepted in my new environment. Instead of skills and experiences, the focuses were that: I was a Northerner, a New Yorker, an East Coaster, a Caribbean woman, someone who spoke directly, and someone who walked “too fast”. I wore my hair in a large natural afro, sometimes twisted it, and later wore locs. I was unfamiliar with the different parts of the culture, along with many of the other unspoken rules of my new home. In ways both subtle and very direct, I was told that I did not belong and that I did not fit in.
The pressure to adjust became constant. I felt the need to contort myself to meet expectations that were not my own, whether it was how I pronounced the word “pecans,” how I was expected to be polite by shrinking myself, or how advocating for myself was taken as defiance.
What I was experiencing was an identity crisis.
I knew logically that these pressures were wrong, yet I could feel them shaping how others viewed me and how I began to view myself.
This became even more difficult once I stepped into leadership. Every choice I made was weighed against the critique of my hair, my clothes, my accent, my marriage status, and that even my presence as a woman, and a Black woman, was not sufficient to be a leader. These judgments did not disappear because of my title. Instead, they intensified and carried into how others measured my ability to lead. The tension between my identity and my role as a leader created an added layer of pressure, one that made it harder to show up fully without the burden of constant scrutiny.
I carried the weight until it nearly broke me. It is survival without choice, and it drains both body and spirit.
The Weight of Bias
Researchers describe this as gendered racial microaggressions, slights that target both race and gender simultaneously. In a study “Ain’t I a Woman?” (Lewis et al., 2016), scholars identified common stereotypes imposed on Black women: the Angry Black Woman or the tireless caretaker. Each stereotype narrows the space available for authentic leadership.
The effects are not just emotional but measurable in health outcomes. Nearly 30 percent of Black college women at predominantly white institutions report symptoms of depression, while more than half experience severe psychological distress tied directly to gendered racism. These numbers highlight how persistent bias can move from being a daily issue to becoming a long-term health burden. A more recent study reinforced this point by finding that Black women who faced frequent online and offline microaggressions were at higher risk for poor sleep, with 67 percent reporting inadequate rest (Volpe et al., 2024). What begins as exhaustion grows into a health crisis.
How Weaponization Shows Up At Work
Weaponization is not an abstract idea. It plays out in clear and recognizable ways across industries:
Corporate spaces: A Black woman is asked to announce layoffs. Leaders praise her composure in public, then quietly criticize her tone in private.
Education: She is sent to lead schools already in crisis, expected to produce rapid results without resources or sustained backing.
Marketing: Her image is front and center in diversity campaigns, while real decision-making takes place elsewhere.
Nonprofits and government: She is pushed to chair equity committees or task forces, adding hours of unpaid labor that rarely count toward advancement.
On paper, these roles look like authority. In reality, they transfer responsibility and risk onto women who already endure heightened scrutiny.
Pitted Against One Another
Weaponization does not always come from outside. At times, systems turn inward and place Black women in opposition to one another. One woman may be praised for being reasonable, while another is described as too harsh or too sensitive. Opportunities such as promotions, recognition, and access to leadership roles are sometimes presented as rewards, while subtle comparisons are used as tools of control.
This pattern weakens solidarity. Rather than standing side by side, women are pushed into quiet competition for limited recognition. The pressure to prove oneself by contrast to another creates distance in relationships where there should be support. Over time, this divide-and-conquer strategy leaves leaders who could have been allies navigating their roles in isolation.
The cost of these dynamics is significant. They prevent collective progress, lower morale, and keep women locked in cycles of proving and defending instead of building and collaborating. What should be a network of shared strength becomes a space of comparison, where success is too often defined by someone else’s perceived weakness. These outcomes are not accidental. They maintain power imbalances by making unity more difficult to achieve.
A Message to Leaders
Change requires honesty and accountability:
Honesty from leadersTrack who delivers the hardest messages, who does the invisible repair work, and who absorbs the most risk. Acknowledge these patterns openly and commit to addressing them.
Structural protectionsEmotional labor must be recognized in job descriptions, performance evaluations, and compensation. Organizations need clear policies that hold people accountable for bias in communication and appearance.
Personal boundariesBlack women need language that protects against being used as shields. Phrases such as:
“I will deliver this message with shared ownership. Who else will speak with me?”
“The accountable owner needs to join me in delivering this.”
These statements resist isolation and ensure that responsibility is shared.
The Question That Remains
What would leadership look like if Black women were valued as strategists rather than shields? What if our voices were sought for wisdom instead of summoned as weapons? The weaponization of Black women in leadership is real, but so is our determination to tell this story differently.
To change the narrative, we must stop seeing Black women only as the messengers who absorb the cost and start valuing them as the architects of strategy and solutions. Progress begins when organizations move away from using resilience as an excuse to demand more, and instead create structures that honor, protect, and sustain true leadership.
So, here’s the question. When have you, or someone you know, been positioned as the enforcer instead of the leader?
What boundary might have changed the outcome?
ReferencesLewis, J. A., Mendenhall, R., Harwood, S. A., & Huntt, M. B. (2016). “Ain’t I a Woman?”: Perceived Gendered Racial Microaggressions Experienced by Black Women. The Counseling Psychologist .
Burton, W. M., Paschal, A. M., Jaiswal, J., Leeper, J. D., & Birch, D. A. (2022). Gendered Racial Microaggressions and Psychological Distress among Black College Women. Journal of Counseling Psychology .
Volpe, V. V., Collins, A., Zhou, E., Bernard, D. L., & Smith, N. (2024). Online and Offline Gendered Racial Microaggressions and Sleep Quality in Black Women. Health Psychology.
