BY NIKKI ADEBIYI, FOUNDER @ BOUNCE BLACK
Content warning: distressing topics, suicide
As a survivor of workplace bullying, I am thankful for this Friday because it is one that at one point I did not know if I would see. But I am also frustrated on this Friday because it is one that another person has not been able to see for reasons that, unfortunately, I can relate to. Workplace bullying has claimed yet another life.
It has been deeply saddening to read about the experiences of Dr. Antoinette “Bonnie” Candia-Bailey, Vice President of Student Affairs at Lincoln University. A beautiful, bright, exceptionally capable Black woman whose wonderful life has been cut short due to a toxic workplace experience. At an HBCU, at that! Disheartening is not even the word.
As I scrolled through LinkedIn, I saw several Black women sharing their experiences and affirming those of others. One repost in particular deeply resonated with me, including a sentence that shook me to the core.
“That could have been me.”
Elona Washington, MSM
There’s a reason my heart skipped a beat or two as my eyes slowed over those words. I regret to say that it’s as true for me as it is for Ms. Washington. That could have been me. And judging by the comments on that singular post, numbering well into the hundreds, that could have been many others like me.
So, I felt it’s time I shared my story of how I outlasted a workplace bully, in hopes of adding my voice to the chorus of survivors who demand better work experiences now.
My workplace bully story
What started off as the opportunity of my dreams at a well-known multinational media corporation quickly became my worst nightmare, second only to my bereavements.
I joined the company as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as possible, having already created a group chat in advance for my cohort of juniors starting at the same time. As some of my peers expressed nervousness about getting started and making a good impression, I firmly reassured them that we would be the cohort that raises the bar.
And raise the bar was exactly what I tried to do. Coming into the office 5 days a week rather than the mandated 3, and staying there to work later for the sheer joy of it despite not getting paid for the additional time. I networked far and wide, with employees at every level of the company. I was determined to make the most of this opportunity and soak up as much as possible. The opportunity was a mark of personal triumph over the debilitating depression of my youth which hindered my ability to advance as quickly as many of my peers in my age group.
Finally, I was thriving, and it showed.
A few months into the role at the company whose culture I had previously spoken highly of, I found myself being berated and belittled by my former boss, a White female senior in-house lawyer. I was brought to tears twice after being shouted at and spoken down to – and I mean full on condescending and sarcastic tone with demeaning head nods. Of course, these incidents took place when no one was looking in classic Jekyll and Hyde fashion.
My former boss called me ‘spoon fed’ for seeking out help with a complex invoicing process, which was supposed to be a very small part of a legal role, and which even the person hired to replace me after I resigned found tedious (and also quit the job). Despite the fact that I took it upon myself to consolidate the very disjointed process into a step-by-step guide, which previously did not exist, she still found ways to sow confusion and undermine my work. For example, after having reviewed the guide herself multiple times, which I followed to the letter thereafter, she waited until the last moment, when some invoices had been issued, approved (by her) and were ready for payment, to ask me whether I had checked for something that I did not know to check for (note to reader: I’m an aspiring lawyer, not an accountant).
By any means, she wanted to make me feel small and incompetent, or in her words “not good enough”. One day she would copy my line manager on emails claiming that she had asked me to do things that she hadn’t, and another day she would deny what I had done, even going as far as claiming that I had “never” offered up my capacity to the team on the Microsoft Teams group chat that I created for that purpose.
Any display of initiative from me would be shut down. I’d be told to ask her questions instead of trying to find solutions myself. Then I’d be criticised for asking questions. The goal posts kept shifting and I simply couldn’t win. She’d look for any opportunity to criticise me and blame me for things. She even went as far as outright comparing me to my White counterparts (of course, I was the only Black person in the team), despite the fact that they sometimes came to me for help with work tasks – to which she sarcastically replied, “great.”
Somehow I was still expected to perform at my best amidst her psychological and verbal abuse, which was an additional stressor to my neurodiversity whilst I was also dealing with illness in the family, of which my boss was aware.
In that last one-to-one meeting with her, as she repeatedly interrupted and spoke over me, when I managed to get a word in to defend myself from her onslaught of berating, I calmly explained that it’s hard for me to perform well when I feel like I’m looking over my shoulder and skating on thin ice. Revealing her true colours all at once, she replied, “you are on thin ice.”
Sure enough, it was downhill from there in every way. I began feeling uncomfortable when people greeted me as they walked past my desk whenever she was around. I tried to keep my distance outside of compulsory team meetings. But eventually, I lost the ability to focus and function, and my productivity plunged along with my confidence and mental health.
My institutional betrayal experience
I’d experienced sexist remarks, microaggressions, being shouted at and humiliated while working in the hospitality sector as a student, which I brushed off in the name of picking my battles. This time, however, with fear and trembling, I made my first ever report to HR. I drew the line about the kind of treatment I would accept in the workplace, and she had crossed it.
Sadly, due to her seniority in the company, my guess is that she succeeded in playing the victim and spun another story to those over whom she had influence because what followed next caught me off guard entirely. I became the subject of an excessive monitoring campaign, to the extent that people were peeking over their monitors to watch me, while others followed me around the office, even into restrooms.
A week later, when I quit, to my horror I became the victim of continued harassment outside the office as well as ongoing covert surveillance and smear campaigns as HR and company representatives repeatedly expressed concerns for their reputation. Worst of all, only a handful of conscientious former colleagues have contacted me since.
“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”
Anne Lamott
Of course, there is so much more to the story, and I have nothing to hide, so I would love to tell it in its entirety but would need a book for that!
Yet the fact that I have felt that I have to bend over backwards to explain and justify my feelings and experiences is telling of a corporate culture in which women, people of colour, Black women and victims of workplace bullying, harassment and discrimination in general are disbelieved.
We are treated as troublemakers and threats as our cries for help go unheard or not taken seriously until the worst happens. I’ve seen it, I’ve lived it, I was raised by those who have lived it, and every day I walk with those who live it.
Personally, I am tired of hearing the same toxic workplace story over and over again. Even in my report to HR, I mentioned that I didn’t want anyone to be fired, I just wanted to be left alone.
All we want is to live our lives and do our jobs with dignity, but even that seems to be too much to ask for.
My recovery journey
Like Ms. Washington, my experience in my last role pushed me to self employment because had I endured it a moment longer, it might’ve pushed me to something far worse.
The very thing that got me through is exactly what my former boss and company are threatened by: my platform and my voice. To be completely honest, I don’t know that I would have survived if I didn’t have a brand of my own, backed by a network of upstanding mentors and peers who know my story and can vouch for my character and work ethic.
Through Bounce Black, I have had a wealth of corrective emotional experiences that have fast uprooted the lies that this workplace bullying experience attempted to sow in me. I have worked with the most kind of people who not only want to see me thrive, they also do what they can to facilitate that. I have tasted and enjoyed opportunities that have reminded me that my life and career are far from over. In fact, I’m just getting started.
When I left that company, I was at the worst I had ever been mentally. This heightened my despair because I had worked so hard on my healing and growth, which helped me secure that position, only to be knocked back down into the pile of odds I had just celebrated overcoming. And in this economy?!
It’s only by the grace of God, a solid support network and newly prescribed antidepressants that I am still here to tell the tale. Some may find this much vulnerability off-putting, and it may even deter future opportunities and perhaps shake some tables, but I am willing to let the chips fall where they may on this here hill.
I shouldn’t have to become a posthumous trending topic for change to take place.
My plea to employers and colleagues
I hope these stories are a wake up call for the entire workforce to take workplace bullying, institutional betrayal and systemic oppression seriously. We must all play our part to stamp it out.
To employers, you must prioritise psychological safety now more than ever by doing the needful, investing in airtight policies, procedures and enforcement. Hold people to account for their behaviour no matter how senior or profitable to the business they are because no one should be exempt from the requirement to treat others with dignity. Learn from this awful tragedy that the worst damage you can inflict on your reputation is to have your name as the catalyst for your personnel’s Celebration of Life because your toxic culture made theirs hell.
To employees, look after yourselves and look out for each other. Passive bystanders multiply the trauma of workplace bullying. If you see something, say something, even if just words of encouragement and support to the victim. If you can, act to push for accountability and correction because a life may hang in the balance. The last person you want to be is the one who speaks up to share their condolences for the other whose cries for help fell on your deaf ears.
For all of us, our ultimate aim should be to do our part to foster working cultures that cease to be the reason why workers anxiously look forward to Fridays.
But if that’s too much, then at the very least, we can build working cultures that simply give people more Fridays.
Other related content:
- Blog: This Can Happen Global 2023 – Part two: Conversations about workplace wellbeing
- Blog: Diversity, inclusion and mental wellbeing at work
- Blog: What the Workplace Bullying Bill could mean for Black professionals
- Resources: Links to other support
Bounce Black 
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