Over the past 50 years, the U.S. labor market has transformed. Between 1979 and 2019, the share of workers who are non-White, Hispanic, or Latino increased from 23 to 40%, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statisticsopens in new window. Certain fields have seen more drastic transformations in both race and gender, as growing numbers of women and people of color have pursued higher educationopens in new window. In 1980, for example, 2.6% of physicians were Blackopens in new window, a proportion that has since more than doubled to 5.7%opens in new window. In that same time frame, the proportion of female physicians has tripledopens in new window.
These demographic changes have led to pushback in spaces that have long been predominantly White and male, Thomas says. Sometimes, that looks like outright discrimination and illegal employment practices, but it’s not always that obvious, Thomas says.
In the early 2000s, Thomas and two colleagues from the University of Georgia—counseling psychologist Rosemary Phelps, PhD, and former director of the Institute for Women’s Studies Juanita Johnson-Bailey, EdD—noticed an interesting pattern while attending a leadership development program for women in higher education. Again and again, attendees described feeling both celebrated and marginalized in the workplace: a physicist, the first female faculty member in her department, whose warm and welcoming male colleagues liked to pat her on the back and tell her she reminded them of their daughters; the first female president of a national organization, who was heaped with praise—until she decided to center gender discrimination and harassment as part of her platform.
Each of these women worked in spaces that sought to build more diverse faculty. They all described the same warm paternalism at the beginning of their careers, which turned into resistance or even icy hostility as they rose within their organization. They described having their attempts to start conversations about difference silenced, difficulty accessing information necessary to their jobs, and feeling as though their voice held less weight compared with their White and male colleagues.
Thomas, alongside Johnson-Bailey, Phelps, and then-graduate students Ny Mia Tran, PhD, and Lindsay Johnson, PhD, went on to conduct formal qualitative research on their observations, inviting female professionals to answer open-ended survey questions about their experiences with onboarding, coworkers, and organizations. The team later published their findings in a chapter of the 2013 textbook
Psychological Health of Women of Color
opens in new window. They called the concept “Pet to Threat.”
“What are pets to families? They’re there for comfort, for support,” Thomas says. “And that’s the role you occupy—especially during a societal era when diversity is something that’s sought after or celebrated.” In workplaces, women and people of color provide reassurance that their White, male colleagues are good, accepting people, Thomas says.
But pets aren’t meant to step out of that role, and when they do, they’re seen as a threat to the status quo, Thomas says. One survey respondent wrote: “I was put ‘out front’ on many issues, but not given the responsibility, what I call, ‘to be seen but not heard.’”