There Is Something So Sexy About "Standing Your Ground"

And why I will never back down in the workplace ever again

AI-Generated Image: A Black woman with locs sitting outside, breathing in the fresh air.

I left my mother’s fear lodged in her heart.

My mother is a fearful human being. For all the rage she has stored up in her, she matches it with unbearable amounts of fear. I grew up watching her shy away from things that would test her knowledge and confidence, and even though I had more of my father’s tenacity coursing through my veins, my mother was with whom I spent most of my time.

I have many stories I could share of my mother’s strength, of her ability to break another woman down to size by verbally slaying them to pieces. Or, sizing them up and physically defending herself whenever the moment presented itself to her. I could also share the many times she made men shrink within themselves and morph into crying, mumbling, and fumbling fools. She was, at that time, a beast in interactions and a reckoning on two legs. I envied those sides of her.

So when I first told her of our dilemma at work with discrimination and racism from our then-new Operations Manager, I could hear the fear in her voice. It broke out of her chest, rose to her mouth, fought through her teeth, and met my ears. She understood my need to right the wrongs of the world. She knew I was not going to let up. But the Mama Bear stuck to her bones, would not rest.

I know this is something you have to do, but I just want you to be careful. These people don’t care about you. They will eat you alive. You gon’ do what you wanna, so I have no say in that. Just be careful, Tremaine. Please.

There were pieces of me that reacted in a way that could be described as defensive—I’ll admit that. I was harsh in my initial response to her. I had to sit with her words for a few days and reach back out to her and try a different approach.

I am not a mother. I do not know what it feels like to worry about your child as they engage in something that could be potentially life-threatening—as they stand their ground against authoritative figures in the workplace.

I have a good head on my shoulders. I typically sit with the things of this world that aggravate me before responding. I absorb statements made to me and said about me before I react. So, I knew that what I was doing was the right thing. I also knew that I had a team of beautiful Black women who were experiencing the same thing and would speak up, too.

We were ready for whatever anvil conjured up by Human Resources to drop on us.

I had to file that report. I had to continually stand my ground in various meetings. I had to meet my then-new (and now terminated) Operations Manager with wit, correct courses of action, and a verbal breakdown of the handbook in which I was well-versed to indicate I knew how to maneuver my site and properly conduct testing.

To do all of this, I had to leave my mother’s fear with her. I would no longer carry it with me on my journeys in life.

She had to let me go and let me grow.

And I guess that was hard for her to do. It must be a deep body ache to watch your oldest (and your only girl-child) conquer a happening you prayed she would never have to endure. On a scale of 1 - 10, this level of fear must have been at least 20. We had many conversations while I was dealing with everything that was taking place, and over those few weeks, my mother’s fear reintroduced itself to me.

I had to take several breaths before responding to her. The main thing that pressed upon her unrelentingly to say was, “Be careful. I want you to stand up for yourself, but I want you to be safe, too. I haven’t had to worry about losing my temper in a long time, but I will lose it over you.” I knew what she meant. When you have been ordered to have anger management classes and did a stint in jail, the last thing you want is for any of your children to model your behavior. Or, be forced to act out of character to protect themselves.

AI-Generated Image: Black woman with locs looking up to the sky, feeling free.

I was never forced to act out of character. There were plenty of times I wanted to lunge out of my seat, into my laptop, and rip out my previous Operations Manager’s vocal cords, but I maintained some semblance of decorum. I made a vow to myself that HR or The Beast would not see me angry. I would be even-keeled and steady in my word selection. I was the direct reflection of a “glorious mess.” I was two parts verbal armageddon, two parts reactionary consciousness, and two parts patient.

I kept my mother updated after every Teams meeting. I made her aware of the meaningful parts of the situation for us and how we needed prayer and someone to hear us.

One day, she realized I was okay. I was not a defenseless shell of a girl-child who needed coddling and security. Although I am hypersensitive, an Empath, and a woman who has always had a village of elders behind her, at that moment, she knew she had to let me go.

Begrudgingly, she did. I felt myself soar higher than I ever have before. And it was magical.

Every day since The Beast’s termination, I am grateful for my voice.

If this godawful situation had never taken place, I would not have been aware of how strong I am. Sure, I know that I am resilient. But now I know that I am strong—that I can endure even the hardest things and still keep a level head and an open mind.

I am more confident in my professional stature, and I recognize that trials and tribulations occur to remind me that God gives his hardest battles to his strongest warriors.

There is something so incredibly sexy and affirming about standing one’s ground. Many of us will not get this opportunity. There have been many of us who have met their end because of warped situations directly related to what we experienced. And there will be many more in the future who will not have the chance to even voice their opinion or speak up when they want to.

But I am glowing more. There are instances of validation hurled in our direction daily because of how we handled everything. I understand the importance of speaking up when the cause presents itself. Now that I have walked down this path—that I know what is on the other side—I will never back down in the workplace ever again.

My voice is my parachute, and I am free-falling into a space of growth that is necessary for my future.

I won’t let ME down.