I often think about the systems in which we work, culture, belonging and the everyday workforce experiences. 

Recently, during a session on anti-racist practice with Research in Practice, something stayed with me. My co-facilitator and I had several conversations leading up to the session. As two women, one Black and the other white, we made time to hear each other and share without judgement. It was important for us both to do this, to build real trust and openness.  

During the session, the discussion landed on the support Black and Global Majority colleagues may need when they find themselves as ‘the only one’ in a leadership space. I was offering clarity - support isn’t because people aren’t ready, capable or brilliant at their jobs. Far from it. It’s because of what Black and Global Majority leader’s often have to navigate while doing the job. The extra emotional labour, the microaggressions, the pressure to represent, the constant scanning of the room to work out if you’re safe to speak freely. All of this sits on top of the day-to-day responsibilities everyone else has. 

A participant reframed it. They said, look at it differently: 

That reframing opened up a deeper reflection for me about what it really feels like to be ‘the first’, and what anti-racist leadership looks like in practice not just in theory. I always celebrate ‘the firsts’, seconds and thirds with pride. However, often when we are celebrating being ‘the first’ the journey to get there, to grow and thrive, for that individual isn’t always fully appreciated.

Being ‘one of many’

For International Women’s Day, Mercedes released a powerful campaign called Be One of Many. For anyone who hasn’t seen it, it’s worth watching. The message is simple but striking. Women shouldn’t have to be ‘the only one’ in a room, or ‘the first’ to break through a barrier, to be valued. They should be one of many, it should be the norm. 

It resonated deeply with me. In my case, and in the case of many before me, it hasn’t just been about being the only woman. It has often been about being the only Black woman. Being seen as ‘exceptional’, ‘remarkable’, ‘the first’. While those words can sound flattering, they can also hide the reality; that the space wasn’t built for you. Often you are navigating it largely on your own. Just because you are one of many women in that space, with that supposed shared commonality, we can’t assume that the space is as supportive and embracing as it could be.  

During our session, someone wrote in the chat that being ‘the first’ can feel very lonely. That comment stayed with me. It’s a truth many of us carry quietly. 

We also have to be honest that, despite over 100 councils adopting the Social Care Workforce Race Equality Standard, many Black and Global Majority staff still don’t feel the difference within the walls of organisational culture. The data may be collected, but the lived experience hasn’t shifted enough. 

Supporting anti-racist leadership and stealth activism 

A Research in Practice publication and podcast on anti-racist systems leadership remind us that racism is not just about responding to big, dramatic incidents. It’s also about the everyday microaggressions and acts of racism, conscious or unconscious that shape how safe or unsafe people feel at work.   

Shades of Bias is a versatile case study template designed to enable critical reflection on how discrimination, oppression and racism manifests in social work and beyond. It demonstrates how easily racial bias can slip into everyday social work practice, often without people realising it.

It lends itself as a reminder that racism and discrimination are designed and embedded into structures, systems, policies and power relations. In a series of three videos, Wayne Reid shares how the resource can be used with different groups of people, including victims / survivors, witnesses and observers and the people responsible for bias.  

So what do we do? For me, anti-racist leadership is not a badge or a job title. It’s a practice, a way of showing up. It’s noticing who is missing from the room, who is carrying the emotional load, and who is being asked, silently or otherwise, to be resilient over and over. To go into communities where flags and raised to intimidate and signal that they or their colleagues may not be welcome. 

To counteract this takes time and effort, a lot of this work is what I call stealth activism. It’s the quiet, persistent work that happens behind the scenes. It’s the gentle challenge in a meeting, the decision to name something that others might prefer to ignore. It’s the way we support each other and colleagues who are navigating spaces not built with them in mind. 

Creating safe spaces and facilitating openness

Over the past year, I’ve been working with colleagues to build confidence, awareness and shared language around anti-racist practice. Colleagues who are creating spaces where people can talk openly about their experiences, including the difficult ones. Colleagues who are encouraging leaders to reflect on their own assumptions and to understand the impact of microaggressions, even when they are unintentional.

We’ve been exploring how to support staff who find themselves as ‘the first’ or ‘the only one’. This includes thinking about mentoring, peer support, and how we create psychologically safe environments where people don’t feel they have to shrink themselves to fit in. 

The impact is slow but real. People are naming things more openly and confidently. Leaders are asking better questions. We are seeing regions coming together to champion solidarity, recognising that anti-racist practice is not a one-off training session but an ongoing commitment, that is stealth activism. That quiet consistent push back. 

We’re also seeing national policy shift in ways that reinforce this work. The Mental Health Bill has highlighted the need to address racial inequalities in detention and treatment. Department for Health and Social Care priorities more broadly emphasise fairness, equity and tackling disparities. These policy signals matter but they must translate into change in the lived experience, not just written commitments.

Building knowledge, confidence and compassion

And through all of this, I hold onto something important. I am so very proud to be a Black woman. If I had a choice, I would choose being me every single time. No question. I draw strength from the people who have gone before me, I walk alongside those coming up with me, and I make space for those who will follow. We support each other and we draw strength from the allies who stand in genuine solidarity. 

There is still a long way to go. We need to keep building knowledge, confidence and compassion across the sector. We need to make sure no one feels alone in their role, when people find the courage to share their negative experiences, hear them and believe them. We need to keep challenging ourselves gently but firmly to notice what might otherwise be overlooked.

So, as a sector, I want us to keep talking about this. Through Social Work Week, and the rest of the year. Keep learning. Keep asking who is missing, who is unheard, and who is carrying the weight. Anti-racist leadership belongs to all of us, united co-building hope and harmony.