What it's really like to be a black manager.

"Dear White Boss ..:'by Keith A. Caver and Ancella B. Livers

It's easy to assume that other people experiencethe world the way we do. More specifically, it's veryeasy for white managers to assume that their col-leagues of color face the same basic set of chal-lenges they do. On one level that's true: The workitself is the same. African-American and other non-white managers have to make their numbers, mo-

tivate employees, hire and fire, and plan for thefuture. But on another level, these managers fre-

quently contend with an atmosphere of tension,instability, and distrust that can be so frustratingthey lose the desire to contribute fully or do theirbest work; they may even drop out altogether.Their white bosses and coworkers are simply un-aware of the "miasma;' as Keith Caver and AncellaLivers call this noxious and tenuous environment.

They're often puzzled when their nonwhite col-leagues quit, seemingly out of nowhere, or appearto overreactto what seems like a minor incident-but which is really the last straw.

We asked Caver and Livers, faculty and coachesat the Center for Creative Leadership, to write afictional letter from a black manager to a whiteboss describing the miasma and what it's like to be

HARVARD BUSINESS REVIEW· NOVEMBER 2002

different in the workplace. Their letter, with its at-tendant suggestions, draws on research from in-terviews and surveys with hundreds of mid-to se-nior-level African-American managers, as well aslong years of personal experience. The point, theauthors stress, is not to belabor the lack of peopleof color in the executive suite or any of the otherbarriers that limit opportunities in corporateAmerica. Neither is it to extol the virtues and ac-

complishments of leaders of difference. Instead,

their letter portrays the nature of corporate lifeonce black managers are established-the feelingthat they leave some part of their identity at homeand the sometimes subtle and often systemic ra-cial biases that inhibit and alienate African-Ameri-cans. The letter may not apply to every leader,

black or white, or to every organization, but theseissues are more widespread than corporate Amer-ica cares to acknowledge. It should be requiredreading for white executives-after all,companiescan ill afford to allow talent to slip through theirfingers.

The Editors

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"Dear White Boss ... "

Keith A. Caver is the group director ofclient and assessment services and An-

cella B.livers is a managerofindivid-ualleader development at the Centerfor Creative Leadership in Greensboro,North Carolina. They are the authors ofLeading in Black and White: WorkingAcross the Racial Divide in CorporateAmerica (Jossey-Bass, 2002). They

can be reached at caverandlivers@leaders.cci.org.

HARVARDBUSINESS REVIEW' NOVEMBER 2002

Do you remember that first management-team offsite I attended shortly after I came onboard? Youwanted to introduce me to the keydecision makers-the people I'd need to knowin my job as director of strategic planning. Iappreciated the exposure, and, after the intro-ductions and the requisite banter, I settled into observe the team's dynamics and get a senseof the culture. As a new employee, I didn't ex-pect to participate much in the conversation,although I was prepared to answer the occa-sional question about a particular strategy oroffer any insights from my experience thatmight be relevant. Instead, I got a barrage ofquestions about issues related to diversity-what I thought about some new HR initia-tives, why Brian and Matthew can't get along,why Diane left the company, and on and on inthat vein.

I answered the questions as best I could-I was a newcomer, after all, and wanted tobe polite-but I went home feeling prettydemoralized. Despite my 15 years of experi-ence, despite my solid track record, my newcolleagues appeared to have little interest inmy business expertise. Instead, they seemedto have assigned me some special role: offi-cial interpreter of minority concerns for theorganization.

You may be wondering why I'm bringingthis up after all these years-years that havebeen by many accounts rewarding for me pro-fessionally and for the organization as a whole.It's because on that day, and on so many daysbefore and since, I've been made to feel thatmy white colleagues and bosses don't see mytalents and accomplishments; they see only thecolor of my skin. I've wanted to write this let-ter for some time now, because despite all out-ward appearances I am not entirely happy, andat times my work suffers for it. In fact, when Ilook at my experience and that of my African-American colleagues, and then look at mywhite colleagues in this company and at you,one thought keeps resonating in my mind: Itmust be good to be king.

OK, that's unfair. I don't mean it as an in-sult. I'm quite sure you don't feel like a kingand may, in fact, think it's misguided or evenungrateful of me to harbor such thoughts. Iknow you're operating under significant pres-sures-to keep our division solvent, to stayabreast of current trends, and to be fair andaboveboard in your personal interactions and

business dealings, just to name a few. You'vebeen a good boss. I've learned a lot from you,and I've gotten my promotions and raises.Andthat's the devil of it. Everything looks fine, butit isn't.

Just as members of the royalty in medievalEurope were often shielded from the stark real-ities outside their castle walls,I believe you arein some ways blind to what is happening out-side your office door. I truly believe you don'tlmow how frustrated I often am-how frus-trated we African-Americansoften are-by thelack of acknowledgment or apparent under-standing of how our experience in the work-place differs from yours, and how it affects notjust our own morale but the health of the orga-nization overall. Have you noticed that theturnover rate for blacks is significantly higherthan it is for our white counterparts? Have youstopped to consider why?

You and I both want this company to suc-ceed. Therefore, I want to find a way for us towork together better, and I don't think we cando that unless I can be honest with you. Now, Isuspect you're thinking that you've got a fewhonest things to sayto me as well.That's fair. Ifwe're trying to create an open dialogue, it's gotto be two-way.

But that's another letter. For now, I'd like todescribe to you the miasma that surroundsblack managers in our everydaywork lives andhelp you understand how it can erode my pro-ductivity and our relationship in insidiousways. I'm going to give you some examples, al-though I'm wary of doing so because eachstory, taken in isolation, may seem trivial. Butplease understand that I could go on and on. Icould give you hundreds of examples-thingsthat happen to me and my black colleaguesand friends every single day. It's the cumula-tive effect that wears us down.

All I ask is that you test your assumptionsafter you read what I have to say. I promiseto test my own. Then, maybe we can start adialogue. At the very least, we'll understandeach other better. And perhaps, with somework, we'll both be able to change some ofthe behaviors that prevent us from beingtrue colleagues.

"I Feel Alienated ..:'It may surprise you to learn that I often thinkyou can't see past the color of my skin. Wehave a good working relationship, so why

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"Dear White Boss ..."

Each story, taken in

isolation, may seemtrivial. But it's the

cumulative effect thatwears us down.

would I say such a thing? I'll bet you don't re-member the time when you pinned me to thewall trying to get an explanation for Jesse Jack-son's perceived misdeeds or (much earlier inour relationship) the O.J. verdict. How am Isupposed to know? I can't explain ClarenceThomas. By the way, how do you account forsome of Bill Clinton's questionable behavior?And what about Timothy McVeigh? I knowthese questions are unfair; we should be ableto talk as two individuals about business, cur-rent events, and other topics that interest us,without race-based judgments. And yet, youseem to hold me accountable for explainingthe actions of other black people as if I hadsome personal knowledge or culpability. Itmakes me feel like you don't see me for who Iam; it makes me feel alienated from you, fromthis company.

It isn't just you. Look back to that day at themanagement offsite,when the members of theexecutive team saw me not as a seasoned strat-egist but as an authority on race relations inthe company, even though I had just startedand barely knew the players. And do you re-member when you, Jim, and I had lunch in thecorporate dining room, not long after the off-site? As I placed my tray on the table, Jim sur-reptitiously pointed to a table of four African-Americans who were having lunch togetherand said,"Canyou tell me why all of the blacksare sitting together?" I was momentarily takenaback by his question. Not only was I sittingwith him, a young black woman was sittingalone at another table. Clearly, all the blacksweren't sitting together. I managed to reply,"Idon't know, but I've been wondering why allthe white people are sitting together:'

It may have seemed like a harmless ques-tion to you, but it struck a nerve. If Jim hadn'tfocused on the few black employees in theroom, he might have noticed that the vastmajority of the 60 or so patrons eating lunchthat day were white, and, with the exceptionof you and Jim, all the whites were sittingwith each other or alone. The blacks weredoing the same thing the whites were doing-having lunch with friends and colleagues. Wehave the same need for socialization and ac-ceptance that you do. Perhaps more, becausefor us the workplace is often an uncertain andtumultuous place, in ways you don't see. Un-fortunately, rather than enjoying real conver-sations with our nonblack colleagues, we are

HARVARD BUSINESS REVIEW' NOVEMBER 2002

often taken off guard by awkward jokes orslips of the tongue-leading us to wonder ifthese comments betray underlying feelings orassumptions about African-Americans in theoffice.

And I'll tell you another story-an incidentI didn't mention to you when it happened, be-cause I was too frustrated and thought youmight think I was overreacting. One weekend Iwent to the office, in my normal, casual week-end attire, to finish up a report you needed toreview on Monday. In the lobby, I had thestrange feeling I was being watched andturned around to catch the weekend securityguard staring at me. Although a few peoplewere milling about and others were going (ap-parently) to and from their offices,I seemed tobe the only one commanding special attention.Before getting into the elevator, I was stoppedby an informally dressed young white manwho in a stern voice asked to see my identifica-tion. This man was not even the securityguard. He was someone who worked on a dif-ferent floor from me, and I didn't recognizehim. Please understand, I had worked here fortwo years, but because I was out of context, heassumed I was a thug. Youmight chalk it up toan honest mistake, but I can assure you hehadn't challenged any of the white people en-tering the building, nor had I demanded his ID.

Now,when I go into the officeon weekends,I make sure to put on khakis and a polo shirt-and when I look at my white colleagues com-ing in wearing jeans or jogging suits, I feel myresentment growing. What's more, this type ofexperience is so common that many blackshave nearly given up on getting our white col-leagues to see us as nonthreatening. Littlewonder so many of us remain alienated. Littlewonder so many of us leave in search ofgreener pastures-a place where we can be ac-cepted for who we are as contributors andteam members.

"I'm Not Sure You Believe in Me ..!'I've said that, at times, I don't think you cansee past my skin color. To be honest, I alsothink you sometimes make judgments aboutme-usually not intentionally-based on a setof historical and cultural preconceptions. Prac-tically speaking, this shows up in the expecta-tions you and other white managers have forblack employees. Those expectations aren'tjust demeaning; they can limit our ability (and

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"Dear White B055 ... "

The executive team sawme not as a seasonedstrategist but as anauthority on racerelations.

HARVARD BUSINESS REVIEW' NOVEMBER 2002

our will) to contribute.Do you remember when Robert, our black

marketing director, hired Marie, also an Afri-can-American? Marie had worked in the mar-keting field for more than 15 years and hadwon three national awards. Her work was in-novative and exciting, and she was by far thebest candidate of the four Robert interviewed.Things became complicated, however, becauseRobert had also recently promoted a blackman into a position of authority. Like Marie,this manager was clearly the best qualified ofcandidates. After hiring Marie, Robert beganto hear whispers in the halls-suggestions thathe was building his own little "ghetto fief-dom"-and before long one of his white col-leagues came up to him, slapped him on theback, and said with a laugh, "So white peoplearen't good enough for you?"

Robert did his best to ignore the comments,but what really got to him was that his bosssuddenly seemed to take a greater interest inthe details of his group's work-asking for re-ports and updates he'd never needed whenRobert's team was primarily white. Subtly,hisboss was letting him lmow that at some levelhe expected the team's performance to drop.As we talked later, Robert explained that hisfrustrations came less from being questionedor joked with than from knowing his depart-ment's as well as his own credibility was nowsuspect Consequently, he said, on top of his or-dinary work he was going to have to expendsignificant energy managing his white col-leagues' perceptions if he or his two new man-agers were to have a chance of succeeding.Andthe stress took its toll-his group has done out-standing work, but, as you lmow, Robert re-cently gave his notice. I wouldn't be surprisedif he took Marie with him. He told you he'sleaving for an exciting new opportunity; hetold me he's worn out by the need to con-stantly defend his department.

The ribbing that Robert took may havebeen intended as humor, but it feeds the per-ception among blacks that our white bossesdon't really believe in us. Here's another storyfor you. A black female reporter told meabout a startling but open conversation shehad at a convention with the CEO of a newsmedia company. Seeking to gain greater in-sight into the industry, she queried him offthe record about his views and hiring prac-tices regarding blacks. He replied that he was

afraid to hire black leaders because, he said,"If I fire them, they will sue me:' Do you thinkpeople hired under such circumstances are re-ally given the opportunity to succeed? I don't.Do you think our white counterparts are scru-tinized for positions based on the precon-ceived idea that they will fail? No, I don'tthink so either. How can we possibly succeedin an environment where our new bosseshave already thought about what's going tohappen when they have to fire us? I think ste-reotypes based on fear that have festered into"fact" are what's behind this behavior.

And no matter how successful and seniorwe are, we're never immune to these stereo-types. One of my dear, and very talented, blackfriends was recently hired as a senior vicepres-ident for a major financial institution. With theexception of a few initial interviews and meet-ings, she did not set foot in the new organiza-tion until her first day at the office. As sheemerged from the elevator, she was abruptlygreeted by a white male who directed her to asmall cubicle and asked her to quickly put herthings away as they were expecting a new se-nior officer to arrive shortly. In mock obedi-ence, she went to the cubicle and set her boxdown, only to return and inquire about therest of her shipment that had been sent previ-ously. As he stared at her in confusion, shesmiled and continued, "Quite frankly, I don'tbelieve all of my things will fit in this cubicle:'She told me she almost felt sorry for the manas recognition of his error seemed to be slowlyreflected in his face first by embarrassment andthen by terror. He launched into an awkwardand confused explanation of how they werealso expecting a new administrative assistant,and how he had mistaken her...and then he fellsilent. Instead of berating him, my friend sim-ply smiled and said, "I understand. However,when the new assistant arrives, I hope that youwill be far more gracious in welcoming thenew member of our team?'

These may seem like extreme examples,butmy black colleagues and I run into this type ofpreconception all the time. Every day. It's dis-couraging, but it also has practical implicationsfor what I and other African-Americanscan ac-complish. Research suggests that you're morelikely to put me into an assistant director's po-sition, even though I'm fully qualified for thedirector's role. Research also shows that men-toring is particularly important for blacks, yet

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"Dear White Boss ... "

people choose to mentor others who look likethem, making it difficult for us to find mentors.What am I asking you to do? Consider mentor-ing me, even if I don't look like you. Considerme for that vice president's job. Give me achance at the most technical and operationallycritical roles, rather than limiting me to admin-istrative positions. Give me credit for the abil-ity to make good, rational business decisions.And draw your conclusions about my abilitiesbased on my track record, not on the color ofmy skin.

"I Don't Fully Trust You..:'This might be the hardest thing I have to tellyou, because we've worked together for manyyears and have accomplished a great deal inthat time. But to be honest, our relationshipgoes only so deep because I feel I can't fullytrust you. Here's a story for you.A black friendof mine, James,was at a business dinner with acolleague who may have had one glass of winetoo many. "Before I knew it:' James said, "mycolleague was telling me about how blacks gettoo many breaks and how most of us aren'tsmart enough to be in executive positions.This is someone who considers himself myfriend. This is someone who's dealing with cli-ents, peers, direct reports-some of whom areblack or at least not white:' At this point in hisstory James stopped and just looked at me fora moment. "I got through that meal, and Inever let on what I thought. I have never for-gotten that dinner, though, and I will nevertrust that man. I'm always professional withhim. But I don't share more than I have to, nordo I deal with him if I can get around it:'

That story has implications for both of us.The pervasiveness of experiences like James'stakes a toll on African-Americans:It slowlyeatsaway at our ability to trust the people we workwith. Whether you, personally, exhibit thesebehaviors or attitudes is less important thanthe fact that experiences such as this makeblacks wary of encounters with our white col-leagues. Furthermore, our mutual history inthis country and the way our different experi-ences currently manifest themselves in theworkplace often impair my trust in you. LikeJames, I don't let you know about it-I can't af-ford to. What's more, James and I aren't alone.My own uncle, who had a long and successfulcareer in corporate America, told me before Istarted work, "Youhave to be careful bestow-

HARVARD BUSINESS REVIEW· NOVEMBER 2002

ing your trust; your white managers will treatyou differently, no matter how well you do:' Iknow times have changed, but I don't know ifthey've changed that much, as I often find my-self being cautious around some of my whitecolleagues. This feeling that we need to guardourselves, and the extra work that it takes todiscern our true friends, creates significant ad-ditional stress for us.

Do you think the impaired trust andchronic stress that African-Americans feelmight be contributing to the difficulty of re-taining black employees? Because we oftendon't trust you, or, it seems, you us, is it possi-ble that blacks don't feel free to fully (oropenly) contribute? Do you think James's"friend" will appropriately use or develop thetalents of his African-Americandirect reports?And do you think that our mutual distrust al-lows us to have solid interpersonal and work-ing relationships? I'd say it means we're notlikely to be as efficient or as effective as wecould be. I'd say that some of us are reluctantto take risks we probably should take, becausewe don't think you'll support us if we make amistake.

"Race Is Always with Me ..:'I suspect that by now you've picked up one ofthe main points of this letter. Differences re-ally do matter, although they may matter inways you probably didn't expect. One of thebig ways they matter is that race is alwayswithus. As a friend of mine said recently, "I don'tthink a day goes by that I'm not reminded thatI'm black:' Another friend once recounted aminor, but daily irritation she had to contendwith early in her career. "I used to work in aplace that was pretty mono-ethnic:' she toldme. "Andat my job you were expected to wearstockings. But the town I lived in didn't havestockings the shade I needed. I had to have mymother send them to me. I always thought ofit as a mini-Berlin airlift:' As you read this,you probably think that this is such a smallthing it needn't be shared. Youmight go on tosuggest that if that's all the inconvenience racecauses, we should consider ourselves lucky.Well, I know it's a small thing. But it isn'tsomething you have to think about. And moreto the point, it's just one of many small-andlarge-things we cope with, day after day.

Difference itself is not a bad thing. Re-search shows that heterogeneous groups

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"Dear White Boss ... "

make better decisions than do homogeneousones. Diverse groups also tend to have betterproblem-solving skills, are more creative, anddeal more effectively with complex chal-lenges. And with the increasing globalizationof business, we need to be able to relate to nu-merous ethnic and racial constituencies. Butbecause so many organizations manage dif-ference poorly, they may not be reaping thebenefits diversity can bring. I don't want us tocontinue making that mistake.

So, what do we do? There's no easy fix.We're confronting deep-seated, complex, andhighly personal attitudes and assumptions-but opening a dialogue is a good first step. Ithink we have to be willing to ask ourselves un-comfortable questions and be prepared to dealwith some difficult answers. At my last com-pany, one of the vice presidents brought theentire senior management team together for ahalf-day session with five African-Americanmanagers, with the goal of putting some ofthese issues on the table. She stressed that themeeting was to be a safe environment and wasrespectful and candid throughout. Even withher comments, the meeting got off to an awk-ward start, but in the end everyone had achance to ask questions and express their con-cerns. The senior team came to see that the ex-perience of African-Americansat this companyis different from that of whites. And frankly,my black colleagues and I saw that at times weneed to drop our guard. We came to see howsome of our own experiences and baggage ledus to perceive actions differently than theywere intended. While I can't say everythingwas perfect after that meeting, we did arrive ata shared understanding and developed some-thing of a shared language for addressing diffi-

cult issues or communication lapses on thespot.

There are other ways to build awareness.My cousin, a product manager for a largeman-ufacturer, told me about a new initiative at hercompany. Each member of the managementteam belongs to a racially diverse "learning cir-cle:' composed of three or four people whohave been charged with studying and explor-ing issues of difference in the workplace. Peri-odically, the circle meets to discuss whatthey've learned and how it might apply tothem and the company. It's just a beginning,but at least they've begun to uncover some dif-ficult issues,and that's the first step in tacklingthem.

I like working here. I believe in the company,in our products, and our future. But I have op-tions, and so do my colleagues of color. Thisisn't a threat; I simply want you to know thatI'm here because I choose to stay. I want ourcompany to succeed, and I want to succeedalong with everyone else. I'm an invested andinvolved partner, and I wish you could seethat, in the same way that I wish you could seethe miasma that muddies the work environ-ment for me and other African-Americans,Right now, you probably can't see it, but I cantell you about it-and I hope you'll considerthis letter an invitation to begin a conversa-tion. And maybe in the future you'll see it foryourself. At any rate, thanks for listening.

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HARVARD BUSINESS REVIEW· NOVEMBER 2002 PAGE 9

I()fldp;;r~t;I------------------------------------------------

If your company's like most, it can ill affordto let talent slip away. Yet that's just whatmany firms are doing, owing to deep-seated assumptions about race and a lackof awareness about how blacks' and whites'workplace experiences differ.

African-American managers often endurean atmosphere of tension, instability, anddistrust. This miasma can become so de-moralizing that many blacks lose their de-sire to do their best work-or simply quit.

This fictional letter-required reading forwhite executives-is based on the authors'work with hundreds of African-Americans.It explains how companies can disperse themiasma's destructive power-and maxi-mize talented managers' contributions.

"Dear White Boss ..."

THE MIASMA

• "I feel alienated." Many African-Americanmanagers suspect that whites can't seepast blacks' skin color. Rather than valuing

blacks'talents and accomplishments, whitecolleagues often expect them merely to ex-plain other black employees' actions. Re-sults? Alienation and a search for accep-

tance as valuable team members-in othercompanies.

~ Example:At a management retreat, a new, African-American VP of strategic planning meetskey decision-makers. They express no inter-est in or respect for his business expertise.Ignoring his solid experience and track

record, his peers ask him only what he

thinks about some new diversity initiatives.

• "I'm not sure you believe in me." Whitemanagers can have expectations for blackemployees that feel demeaning-and thatlimit blacks' ability and will to contribute.

••• Example:When a black marketing director hires ahighly qualified African-American and pro-motes a talented black employee, his bossbegins requesting progress reports he'd

never needed when the team was mostlywhite. The message? "I expect your team'sperformance to drop." The team performswell, but worn out by the pressure to con-stantly defend them, the director resigns.

• "I don't fully trust you." Many black man-agers experience mutual distrust withwhite colleagues. Doubtful that whites will

support them if they make a mistake, theyavoid fully contributing or taking neededrisks.

••• Example:At a business dinner, an inebriated whitemanager tells his African-American col-league, "Blacksget too many breaks, andmost of them aren't smart enough to be inexecutive positions:' Now on guard, the black

manager stops sharing information andavoids dealing with the white manager un-lessforced to. His on-the-job stressescalates.

DIFFERENCES MATTER

Diverse teams make better decisions than ho-mogeneous ones, are more creative, and han-dle complex challenges more effectively. For

companies with global, multi-ethnic, andmulti-racial customer bases, they also providea competitive edge. Yet because many organi-zations manage differences poorly, they're fail-ing to reap the benefits of diversity.

BUILDING AWARENESS

To build awareness of the miasma-the firststep to confronting complex racial attitudes

and leveraging diversity-open a dialogabout awkward, highly personal questions.Build a shared understanding and languagefor addressing communication lapses or con-flicts promptly. Consider creating racially di-verse "learning circles"-small groups whostudy difference in the workplace and meet todiscuss ways to apply their insights to thecompany.

PAGE 3

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"Dear White Boss ..."

ARTICLESIt Wasn't About Race. Or Was It?by jeffrey C. ConnorHarvard Business ReviewSeptember 2000

Product no. R00502

This fictional case study captures the complexnature of the miasma Caver and Livers de-scribe. An African-American male employee,asked for his ID card by a white female em-ployee in the company garage during an im-

promptu Sunday office visit, feels branded as

an outsider-based on his color. Her reply?The incident had nothing to do with race.Rather, she didn't know him-and fearedbeing mugged.

Hearing about the incident, some employeesaccuse the organization of racism; others ex-press outrage that a woman employee wasmade to feel unsafe. The managing partnermust handle the conflicting charges of racismand sexism.

Four experts offer advice. For example, recog-nize the incident as symptomatic of an organi-zational culture rife with racial tension. Askboth employees to tell each other their sto-ries-including the historical context withinwhich each interpreted the event. Then inves-tigate how members of different racial andethnic groups experience their work and rela-tionships in the firm. Initiate facilitated conver-sations with employees about the investiga-tion's results.

Also, widen your focus to examine how thefirm handles diversity in relation to customers.

If you genuinely want to embrace diversity, in-clude diverse employees in client teams-even with "old-line" clients you suspect feeluncomfortable with minorities. By publicly re-

fusing to insult your employees to please cli-ents, you make a strong statement aboutwhat kind offirm you are.

What It's Like to Be a Black Managerby Edward w.jones,jr.Harvard Business Reviewjuly-August 1973Product no. 73409

In this classic article, Jones recalls his experi-ences as a management trainee in a large cor-poration. He wonders why he couldn't winrecognition for his hard work and growth inhis assignments. He feels that the problem

was primarily whites' unwillingness to acceptthat a black could fill a "white" position.

The only black among 8,000 white trainees,Jones felt tense, ill at ease, and pressured tofulfill elaborate but unfamiliar codes of behav-ior. The more tension he felt, the more abra-sive he became, and the more critically he wasevaluated-worsening the entire cycle.

Jones doesn't advise "sheltering" blacks. In-stead, he advocates some policy steps com-panies can take to address problems of "fit"with the informal organization that may oper-ate against blacks. For example, ensure topmanagement's involvement and commit-

ment to supporting black trainees. Avoid thetemptation to create "showcase" black jobs.And select assignments for new black manag-ers that are challenging but that don't inher-ently set them up for failure.

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