Gabrielle “Gabby” Womack: Getting Rid of Imposter Syndrome and Finding My Worth
Gabrielle “Gabby” Womack is a Reference/Access Librarian, archivist, and historian specializing in nineteenth and twentieth-century African American history. Gabby’s work analyzes personal and societal racial identities, particularly among descendants of the African diaspora, and their effects on policy in the United States. Her research interests include the intersections of race, ethnicity, gender, immigration, eugenics/race science, inequity, and policy in the United States. Gabby loves inspiring folks to read diverse books by underrepresented populations on her Instagram and website www.bookishafrolatina.com. Follow her on Instagram @Bookish_AfroLatina.
Last month, I attended an online event entitled, “Imposter Syndrome is BULLSH*T: A Workshop for Women of Color” by Jodi-Ann Burey. I felt like I needed to go to this workshop because I got to a point where I was tired of being afraid to apply for certain jobs, start my own history channel on YouTube, or put myself out there creatively on social media. It was a fear that I knew a lot of other Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC) have likely felt. A fear of being attacked by white supremacists for speaking our truth. A fear of being told that we weren’t supposed to be there. A fear that we somehow still don’t know enough to qualify for that position.
At one point, Jodi-Ann called us all in. She asked us, “How were we the imposters if we made it to the same place as our white co-workers without the privileges that they had?” We made it to the same workplaces and positions as our white bosses and co-workers on top of facing every single hurdle and barrier in our way. I felt silly and embarrassed because I knew she was right. Why was I undermining my own abilities? Then Jodi-Ann spelled it out: Racism. Capitalism. Sexism. I’ve always been enough but the oppression of my workplaces and schools had me believing that I didn’t deserve more.
Photo by Samantha Sophia on Unsplash
“Vocational Awe And Librarianship: The Lies We Tell Ourselves,” by Fobazi Ettarh helped me understand how low wages and burnout are directly connected to this “awe” and supposed “sacredness” of our roles as librarians and library workers. Ettarh wrote, “Through its enforcement of awe through the promotion of dramatic and heroic narratives, the institution gains free, or reduced price, labor.” During this pandemic, this situation has worsened. We are “heroes” with lower pay, new roles, and we aren’t priorities for Covid-19 vaccination. Librarians and library workers have been told to reopen the libraries to the public or our communities before the vaccines were tested and distributed.
However obvious this may seem to me now, my understanding of my worth is connected to my treatment as a person of color. Generation after generation, my family members were paid less than their work was worth and often not afforded the luxuries of vacations and sick time. I saw this and believed it to be the way of the world. I believed that this was how I was meant to be treated. I grew up with no concept of my true monetary worth. So when it came time for me to enter the workforce as a young professional librarian and archivist, I didn’t know what to ask for. I ended up in a job where my expertise and talents went ignored and I was paid far less than librarians in the same position at other institutions.
Then, a series of unfortunate and heartbreaking circumstances led to me stepping up as the temporary head of Access Services for six months. Suddenly, my boss and coworkers realized that I had been undervalued. However, it wasn’t until the police murdered George Floyd that my college came to see that they needed me. After two years of advocating for more BIPOC books, resources, and hiring in my library, this event seemed to single handedly make my colleagues and college community see that they were behind in “diversity, equity, and inclusion” efforts on campus. So I witnessed yet another public lynching of a black person at the hands of police and was grieving over the passing of my grandma, when my institution’s leadership suggested that create an antiracism resources guide. I worked on it every day for a month. Knowing that my colleagues had no idea how much work this was going to be for me, I asked them to help me with the sections connected to their liaison departments. Each day I felt more depressed than the last.
Although much of my research has been on painful topics such as chattel slavery, scientific racism, eugenics, racist policies, and racial passing, this work felt like too much. I was spending my Summer during a stressful pandemic and had to stare at my own fear of never being able to escape racism in the face. It turns out, knowing more about the history of racism did not numb me to the reality of it every single day. I kept thinking, “am I going to always be alone in this work?” Of course other folks are doing antiracist work but, in my predominately white institution, that was hard to see. I rarely even saw any other BIPOC until some created an affinity group for us.
Before all of this, I had a dream. I dreamed of using my M.A. in History and my M.S. in Library Science to share the stories and histories of underrepresented folks through a YouTube history channel. But my fear of inadequacy consumed me and the hell that was 2020 took control. In that darkness, somehow I was able to still meet some wonderful black and brown women who made me feel a sense of community; one group at work and one group in my town. The more time I spent with my new family, the more I began to get myself back. With them, my partner, therapy, and antidepressants I was able to start finding my way to my channel again. The fear wasn’t gone, but I had gained some new motivation. Then, my family was crushed again by my grandfather’s passing. Like dominoes, the misfortune kept falling. He was gone and my household contracted coronavirus. January felt like a continuation of 2020.
By the end of January 2021, as I recovered and grieved, I decided to take back my happiness. I hopped onto Instagram and created a new account: @Bookish_AfroLatina. An account dedicated to sharing books by and about underrepresented folks. My family and friends showed their love and support by promoting me and following my work. Somehow, the people I wanted to be surrounded by had found me. Black, brown, and queer folks looking for representation and love.
Photo by Vonecia Carswell on Unsplash
Something inside me felt different and new. As a joke, I asked my friend, “Is this what white men feel like?” Then, I realized that what I felt was validation and authentic support. No one was trying to censor me or tear me down. This made me feel creatively free and hopeful. This work brought me hopefulness, which I haven’t had in a very long time.
I am extremely grateful for my family, friends, and new support. However, I’m still working on finding my worth. I understand, now, that I am being undervalued and that my energy is better placed in my passions, but I still don’t exactly know what my value equates to monetarily. It is clear that many of us are in the same position. We see how our jobs, government, and communities exploit our labor and diminish our hope. We’re not going to take it anymore.
I look forward to discovering our worth together and making it known.
References
Ettarh, Fobazi. (2018, January 10). Vocational awe and librarianship: the lies we tell ourselves. In the Library with the Lead Pipe. http://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/
Peet, Lisa. (2021, February 9). Library Associations, Agencies, Workers Advocate for Early Vaccination Priority. Library Journal. https://www.libraryjournal.com/?detailStory=library-associations-agencies-workers-advocate-for-early-vaccination-priority
Tulshyan, R., & Burey, J.A. (2021, February 11). Stop telling women they have imposter syndrome. Harvard Business Review. https://hbr.org/2021/02/stop-telling-women-they-have-imposter-syndrome
We Here. Retrieved March 9, 2021, from https://www.wehere.space/
Merrimack Valley Black and Brown Voices. Retrieved March 9, 2021, from https://www.mvbbvoices.org/
WIN Staff. (2020, February 27). 4 black women share their insights to negotiation and better pay. WinSummit. https://www.winsummit.com/blog/4-black-women-share-their-insights-to-negotiation-and-better-pay
Womack, Gabby. Bookish AfroLatina. Retrieved March 9, 2021, from https://www.bookishafrolatina.com/