The Foreign Service Journal, November 2020

THE FOREIGN SERVICE JOURNAL | NOVEMBER 2020 23 Aja Kennedy Aja Kennedy, a Princeton alumna, is an economic officer currently serving in Bogotá. In the same way all diplomats adapt to local cultural quirks when serving overseas, Black women in the profes- sional world must learn unspoken rules when we step into white spaces. We are used to being on the “margins” before we even begin A-100. By the time we become FSOs, discomfort has become almost routine. But one advan- tage it gives us is the ability to look at the culture of the department with a critical eye. Perhaps this less glamorous percep- tion of the Foreign Service career is what leads some of our peers to decide to cut the journey short and pursue other professional avenues instead. We want to be clear: Although we have decided to remain with the department through this difficult time, we strongly support the women who speak up and make the difficult decision to leave. They are our close friends and colleagues. Many of us who serve are holding our breath until the day we can feel comfort- able in a committed relationship with the State Department—the women who left just got tired of waiting and wanted to exhale now. They couldn’t breathe . My colleagues and I know our worth, and we’ve worked hard to gain the oppor- tunity to serve our country in the diplo- matic corps. We are honored to support our colleagues in serving the American people. At the same time, we are disap- pointed that the risk-averse nature of the agency and the “corridor reputation” boogeyman all but eliminate the kind of candor needed to have an honest conver- sation about race. The levels of bureau- cracy and slowness to change is dishearten- ing for those of us who want to see a stronger department that truly embraces its diversity and uses that asset to its fullest. Working to make this change is a tall order, but we don’t have an option. We, as a department, have to fix it. The events of recent months have encouraged some of us to be more outspo- ken about our experiences. I’ll be hon- est—as a cautious entry-level diplomat, I haven’t always spoken up. I’ve had conver- sations withmore senior leadership who share similar self-critiques. But if we want to change, the time is now. It seems people are listening, at least for the moment. Over to you, Annah... Annah Mwendar-Chaba Annah Mwendar-Chaba, a Columbia University alumna, is a public diplomacy officer who is currently learning Arabic to serve in Jerusalem. I am the America-born child of immigrants from Kenya, and my experi- ence of racism in the U.S. has been one of learning and teaching, evolving from a perspective of naiveté to resolu- tion. I was blessed to have a stable upper- middle class family, which presented me opportunities to excel and the resources and support to chase my dreams, includ- ing attending an Ivy League institution. I learned to look back on the moments of discrimination I faced—whether for being a girl, “not American enough” or because of my race—with hope and reaffirma- tion because thriving in spite of these moments was a testament to my destiny and our evolution. Simultaneously, I developed a deep call of duty to amplify the voices of these different groups I was identified with who are systematically marginalized and disadvantaged. All in hopes of a reckoning. I first experienced the duel of reck- oning and hope after listening to my second-grade teacher read a story about the friendship of a Black boy and a white boy during the Reconstruction era. My 8-year-old self realized that for some rea- son in America’s history, any person with skin the color of a brown crayon was hated and treated worse. I was the only child in that classroomwith beautiful soft skin the color of a brown crayon. Everyone else, including my teacher, had skin the color of an apricot crayon; I started to cry. My teacher held me on her lap, and my classmates crowded around us, hugging us and patting my back in silence. We could all understand that this was a pain- ful story, a truth that required acknowl- edgment, reconciliation and restoration. At that moment, I was hopeful. As I’ve grown and learned more, it has become more challenging to maintain that hope. How can our nation—founded on “Class is adjourned,” a still image of an animated GIF from the award-winning 2016 film “Hidden Figures.” GIPHY.COM/HIDDENFIGURES