African-American women often feel the need to switch personas, presenting a workplace facade from 9-to-5 and revealing their true selves only at home. Why do they live in two worlds—public and private? From the book Shifting, some startling answers. The workplace is where black women feel they must shift most often, engaging in a grown-up game of pretend as they change their voices, attitudes and postures to meet the cultural codes of a workaday America as well as the broader societal codes of gender, race and class. Work is where they are most likely to confront all the myths about black women head-on, and the stage upon which they may utilize every shifting strategy in their arsenal.With their white peers, they must shift to shatter the stereotypes of the unqualified "token" who has her job because of affirmative action.

With their black male colleagues, they shift to topple the idea held by some that their progress up the organizational ladder comes at the expense of black men. Some shift by ignoring the codes of sisterhood that normally bond many black women, instead striking up a more distant, neutral stance that strains those relationships yet puts their white colleagues at ease. And still others shift by downplaying their success at work. They feel guilty about their achievements and worry that other African Americans will think they have shunned their own community to make it in the mainstream.This constant shifting, many black women say, has made work a place of alienation. Having to overcome the myths, shift their language and behavior and endure outright inequities all take a great toll. And their careers, personal lives and health suffer tremendously as a result. When we asked our survey respondents about the major difficulties that they face as black women, 39 percent pointed to problems related to work—struggling to be hired, having to work harder than others, being paid less than their colleagues for comparable work and being passed over for promotions. Over two thirds (69 percent) had experienced some form of bias or discrimination at work; 41 percent indicated they had experienced racial discrimination, and 34 percent said they had experienced gender discrimination while on the job. Many women testify to spending several hours each day feeling profoundly disconnected from who they truly are, a loneliness that may remain long past quitting time, when the dishes are washed and the children are in bed. Some women come to feel so fragmented that they end up believing there is nowhere they truly fit in.

The one and only

Many black women, particularly if they are professionals or managers, are the only African American or one of very few in their department or company. So they stand out. Not surprisingly, in a study of black women's experiences of occupational stressors, Diane Hughes and Mark A. Dodge of New York University found that African-American women at work sites with few blacks reported more racial prejudice and discrimination than those in predominantly black or more integrated workplaces. What the research tells us is that if you are a black woman working in settings with few blacks or few women, you take on additional risk. It's likely that you'll feel unduly pressured to perform and prove yourself, and that your emotional and physical well-being may be compromised as a result. You may grapple with the yo-yo effect—feeling emotionally conflicted as you switch personas, crossing a cultural divide every time you segue between a meeting with your boss and a quick telephone conversation with your closest friend. To prove your worth, you may take on myriad tasks and myriad roles, lose your sense of self and end up mired in depression.

An invisible woman

What's ironic is how this painful visibility, with which so many working black women in America must contend, also begets invisibility. Their minority status, glaring as it may be, at times actually makes it easier for them to be discounted and ignored. Now that we see you, the white workplace seems to tell them, we're going to try not to notice that you're here.Psychologist and professor A.J. Franklin of the City University of New York has developed the notion of an invisibility syndrome, which black men in particular contend with and which can be emotionally crippling. Our research reveals that black women are faced with it as well. Many women speak about how such invisibility leads their coworkers to be openly racist, insensitive and hurtful. Bridget, a 35-year-old social worker in Buffalo, NY, says that she is often assumed to be a client rather than a professional. She experiences this "all the time when dealing with certain lawyers at juvenile court. I am mistaken for a client until I speak and dispel all of their preconceived notions."Ketisa, a 41-year-old market researcher at a large food corporation in Los Angeles, remembers when the team of market researchers was considering a black male as a new hire. "A staff member from human resources commented, 'We hired a black man once and he didn't do well.' I responded, 'We have hired a lot of whites who've been absolutely horrible, and we're still hiring whites.' And she said, 'That's not what I meant.' I think she forgot I was there. Sometimes when you're very competent and you're good at what you do, you become homogenized to some degree. People almost forget that you're black. They forget who they're talking to.

"Backseat blues

Being invisible, for some women in our study, means being relegated to narrow, limiting, unimportant tasks that offer few opportunities for growth and advancement, or being assigned to a "racial job." For example, Mary Ann, a 27-year-old publicist and account executive from Manhattan, talks of the racism in "getting all the black clients at my firm and not being able to grow in any 'nonblack' areas of business." Lorraine, a 32-year-old assistant dean at a southern California university, shares her major difficulty as a black woman: "I'm not taken seriously by whites on my job. I'm only seen as an expert with minority issues. My opinion tends not to count anywhere else."Even when they are not given a racial job, black women are sometimes consigned to a corner and given few opportunities to learn or progress. Irene, a 38-year-old from Austin, TX, who is now a human resources director, recalls a former boss who gave her busywork instead of the substantive tasks given to whites. And when Ina, a 50-year-old government clerk from Inglewood, CA, was given less work than her white and Asian coworkers, she says, "it made me feel less adequate and made me question my abilities."At its best, work can be financially, emotionally and spiritually rewarding. It can be a place where women find, nurture and utilize the best of themselves and give back generously. At its worst, it can be a place where African-American women feel disconnected from their inner being, where they must hide out in order to survive and where they are pushed to sacrifice their very selves—to shift too far—to be successful. The challenge for black women in the workplace is to make a way for themselves without losing themselves. African-American women do this in a number of different and creative ways. Some fight back and make their way up the organizational ladder, some become entrepreneurs and carve out their own work spaces, and some move on to work environments where they can exist on their own terms.