For Black and Brown leaders, the aftermath of this election—or any moment of renewed crisis—can bring a stark and painful clarity. You may be watching in real-time as colleagues, neighbors, and even friends make decisions that contradict everything they’ve said about equity, justice, and solidarity. It can feel disorienting, even shocking. But this isn’t new. W.E.B. Du Bois named it over a century ago as the “psychological wages of whiteness”—the idea that, regardless of class or personal hardship, whiteness itself provides social and psychological benefits that many will cling to, even at the expense of their professed values.
In Black Reconstruction in America (1935), Du Bois explained that while white laborers in the South often lived in deep poverty alongside Black workers, they were compensated not with money, but with the public deference and social superiority that whiteness afforded them—access to better schools, the ability to serve on juries, and a sense of belonging in a racial hierarchy that reinforced their status. These non-material advantages, or “wages,” ensured that many white workers remained more invested in racial solidarity with elites than in economic solidarity with Black workers.
And today? We see the same patterns play out in different forms:
- White colleagues who support “equity” in theory but align with regressive policies because whiteness still grants them access, ease, and influence.
- Progressive organizations that, when faced with backlash, quietly cut DEI programs and return to business as usual.
- Institutions that claim to be allies but expect Black and Brown leaders to be patient, educate, and absorb harm rather than push for real accountability.
If you find yourself wondering, “How could they?”, the answer is simple: they are making choices based on the benefits and reinforcements whiteness continues to provide. And that is the reality we must navigate as leaders in this moment.
1. The Comfort of Whiteness Always Wins Out
Many of us have spent years engaging in DEI work, coalition-building, and pushing institutions to be more accountable. And yet, when the stakes are raised, whiteness proves itself to be the more powerful allegiance for many. Not policy. Not morality. Not even personal relationships. If preserving equity means sacrificing access, status, or belonging within whiteness, many will retreat.
That retreat isn’t always loud or aggressive. Sometimes it’s subtle—a shift in tone, a distancing, a silence where there was once enthusiasm. They may still like your LinkedIn posts. They may still claim to “care.” But when real pressure arises, whiteness offers protection that solidarity does not.
Do not be confused. What you’re witnessing is not an individual lapse but a well-documented pattern.
2. The Gaslighting Will Come Next
For those of us who refuse to ignore these shifts, the gaslighting will be immediate. You’ll hear:
- “You’re overreacting.”
- “I just think we need to give it time.”
- “This isn’t about race.”
- “You owe me the benefit of the doubt.”
- “I want you to affirm that I am still ‘one of the good ones.'”
- “I should not have to examine my behavior because my intent was good.”
- “But we’re friends, I would never do anything racist / sexist / classist / anti-Indigenous / xenophobic / ableist / transphobic / homophobic / ageist / fatphobic / Islamophobic / antisemitic / colorist / cisnormative / etc.”
Translation: ‘Reassure me that I’m still the kind of person who gets to be on the right side of history—without me actually doing anything to prove it. This is how the psychological wages of whiteness function—not just as a material benefit, but as a protective shield against accountability. The expectation is that you will doubt yourself, that you will question whether what you’re seeing is real.
And here’s the other deflection: “Not all white people.”
Understand this: psychological wages aren’t always conscious choices. Many benefit from whiteness without actively thinking about it—but that doesn’t absolve them from responsibility. As James Baldwin put it, “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
Do not waste energy arguing with people who are more invested in denying harm than addressing it.
3. Choose Where to Invest Your Leadership Capital
As Equity-Responsive Leaders (ERLs) through StrivEquity Consulting LLC , our job is not to beg for recognition in spaces that have already revealed their priorities. Our job is to choose where we invest our energy and leadership capital. If an institution, partnership, or professional relationship is dependent on you not acknowledging what is happening, then it was never built on solid ground to begin with.
Here’s a framework for making that decision:
- Is this institution willing to redistribute power, or just optics?
- Do I have real decision-making authority, or am I being used as a shield for inaction?
- Am I constantly managing harm rather than driving impact?
If you answer yes to any of these, it’s time to re-evaluate where you’re spending your energy. Disengagement is not apathy—it is strategy.
4. Withdrawal is a Leadership Strategy
We’ve been conditioned to believe that stepping away means losing. That if we disengage, “they” win. But walking away from harm is not surrender—it’s a leadership choice. Institutions that refuse to change are betting that we’ll either burn ourselves out trying to fix them or remain too exhausted to challenge their authority. Refusing to play that game is a power move.
Strategic withdrawal allows us to:
- Create pressure. Institutions that rely on us lose credibility when we leave.
- Redirect energy. Our leadership is needed in spaces committed to real change.
- Sustain ourselves. Not every battle is won from within. Some require building alternatives.
When you walk away from systems that refuse to change, you’re not giving up—you’re refusing to fuel something that was never built to serve you.
5. Clarity Is a Gift—Use It Wisely
This moment may be painful, but it is also a gift. Clarity is power. Knowing where people stand means knowing where to redirect your efforts, your leadership, and your influence. Nod to Trenia Parham, do not waste time trying to convince people of what they have already shown you they do not believe. Instead, invest in those who are truly committed to building something different.
What Comes Next?
For Black and Brown leaders, this moment is a test—but not of our values. It is a test of whether institutions and individuals who claim to care about equity and justice will act accordingly when it matters most. Some will fail that test. Do not be confused about why.
As leaders, our job isn’t to convince people who have already chosen whiteness over justice. Our job is to build, invest, and lead where real change is possible. Where will you place your power?
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