Standing firm in my power and pride

Marsha Brown is a domestic abuse specialist with over 20 years of experience supporting women and girls to live free from violence. She co-founded by-and-for service Bambuuu and holds key leadership roles across several women’s networks. A qualified IDVA and SafeLives Associate Trainer, Marsha also serves as a Domestic Homicide Review Chair, reflecting her deep expertise and commitment to ending domestic abuse.  

The journey to here

Being a Black woman in leadership is both a triumph and a challenge. It is a journey marked by resilience, resistance and the constant need to prove your worth in spaces that were not designed with us in mind. I have worked in the Violence Against Women and Girls sector for more than 20 years. I see the victories, and I also see the moments that made me feel sad, alone and targeted. I was never perfect. I missed deadlines. I made mistakes. I was always human, without superpowers, with feelings, memories and a deep desire to make a difference. 

The reality of representation

Despite a growing emphasis on diversity, the numbers speak volumes. Out of 1,099 of the most powerful leadership roles across public and private sectors in the UK, only 11 are held by women of colour, and just 3 by Black women. This stark under-representation is not a statistical anomaly. It reflects deep-rooted structural inequalities. 

The concrete ceiling

Forget the glass ceiling. For Black women it is a concrete ceiling, a term that captures the compounded effects of racism and sexism. Unlike the transparent glass ceiling, the concrete ceiling is opaque, immovable and often invisible to those who do not experience it. Black women are held to higher standards, given less margin for error and denied access to mentorship and sponsorship. We are expected to represent all Black women while being scrutinised for every move. 

Double jeopardy: race and gender

Dr Marcia Morgan’s research on Black women in leadership highlights double jeopardy, the intersectional discrimination faced by Black women due to both race and gender. In her study of senior Black women managers in the Ministry of Justice, many described having to neutralise their cultural identity to fit into white, male-dominated spaces. Leadership literature often centres white women’s perspectives. Black women’s leadership experience is largely absent from the canon. 

The emotional toll

In this sector we are trained to protect survivors. We are told to be strong, to hold space, to absorb trauma and keep going. But who protects us. Who checks in on frontline workers when vicarious trauma becomes too much. Who sees the Black woman behind the job title, not as a symbol or a tick box, but as a person. Who recognises the toll this work takes on our bodies, our minds and our spirits, and creates space for us to heal, to be vulnerable, to be held. We are not machines. We are not invincible. We are not immune to the pain we witness. 

What it is really like on the frontline

The VAWG sector speaks the language of feminism, equality and intersectionality. On the frontline, Black workers often live a different reality. We support survivors through crisis while also carrying the weight of racism across systems we navigate daily, including police, housing, courts and immigration. We act as caseworkers, advocates, translators, cultural mediators and, at times, shields. Much of this labour is invisible and rarely named. 

Expected to represent, rarely resourced

In many services, Black staff are the only person of our background in the room. We are asked to hold the most complex cases involving Black and minoritised survivors, to bridge gaps when systems do not understand cultural context, and to repair trust when it has been broken. We are frequently the first port of call for questions about practice, without the authority, pay or resources to change structures. This is not meaningful inclusion. It shows the need for power, pay and support to match responsibility. 

Racism is not a side issue

Racism shapes access to safety. Black staff describe missed promotions, microaggressions and doubt when we raise racism in casework. Policies and training exist, yet accountability can be thin. Naming this is not about blame. It is about accuracy. If racism is not addressed, the barriers survivors face remain. 

The invisible burden

As a Black woman in leadership, the burden is heavier. I have been overlooked in meetings, tokenised in diversity initiatives and held to impossible standards while being denied the grace others receive. I have had to smile through microaggressions, stay silent through injustice and keep working through burnout. And still, I stood firm. 

The glass cliff

Even when Black women break through, we are often placed on the glass cliff, promoted during times of crisis and then blamed for failures we did not cause. This precarious positioning reinforces harmful stereotypes and undermines leadership. 

Black leadership is core infrastructure

This sector has long been held by Black women and Black-led organisations. By-and-for services build trust where others have struggled. They are community rooted, culturally competent and survivor-led. They should be recognised and resourced as core infrastructure, not treated as peripheral. 

What needs to change

If the aim is safety and justice, values must be matched with practice. UK organisations should embed intersectionality into strategies, create mentorship and sponsorship programmes tailored to Black women, challenge tokenism by hiring in cohorts not isolation, and hold leadership accountable for inclusive practice. Fund by-and-for services properly, listen to Black frontline staff and build accountability that reduces harm. When we do this, we move from good intentions to safer outcomes for everyone. 

Reclaiming my power

Today, I choose to stand firm in my power and pride. Not because the system made it easy, but because I refuse to be broken by it. I honour my journey. I honour my imperfections. I honour the woman I have become. I am not asking for permission to exist. I am claiming my space, my voice and my right to be protected too. 

Quotes that inspire:

• “Black women can do anything. We have proven that time and time and time again.” — Tarana Burke 

• “I did not learn to be quiet when I had an opinion. The reason they knew who I was is because I told them.” — Ursula Burns 

• “The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they do not have any.” — Alice Walker 

• “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.” — Angela Davis 

Final reflections: standing firm in power and pride

Leadership as a Black woman in the UK is not just about climbing the ladder. It is about redefining the ladder itself. It is about standing firm in power and pride, even when the system tries to shake that foundation. The journey is hard, but it is also transformative. Every step forward is a step towards justice, visibility and change.