"Unveiling the Illusion: How DEI Roles Echo the 'Magical Negro’ trope in Philanthropy
By: Donita Volkwijn, Senior Director, Member Engagement, Philanthropy New York
How the backlash against Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) work across the board reflects the deeply ingrained racial stereotypes perpetuated by the 'Magical Negro' trope, revealing the challenges faced by DEI specialists in effecting genuine organizational change.
In the article, Magical Negroes can’t exist without a Mister Charlie or Miss Ann, Soraya Nadia McDonald writes “…in the fun house mirror that displays Magical Negroes, there is always a hapless Mister Charlie or a helpless Miss Ann standing next to them. Magical Negroes cannot exist without a clueless white person — sometimes an entire family of them! — who requires their aid, which of course is offered for free, or close to it.”
Defining the Magical Negro
For those unfamiliar, the “Magical negro trope” refers to “‘the noble, good-hearted Black man or woman’ whose good sense pulls the White character through a crisis.” This trope appears often in literature or film — Jim in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Don Shirley (Mahershala Ali) in Green Book, Hoke Colburn (Morgan Freeman) in Driving Miss Daisy, and Oda Mae Brown (Whoopi Goldberg) in Ghost.
There’s never a full character development for the magical Negro, rather, since they exist merely in relationship to the white protagonist, we meet them at the point when they have had to put aside their needs and lives to help a white character learn a lesson. What never happens in the story is that the white character has a realization and says, “You seem to have a much better grasp on this than I do. Why don’t we make YOU the hero of the story?”
In the case of philanthropy, the consultants and DEI specialists we bring into our organizations to unearth inequity and create strategies that facilitate change are quickly becoming the new magical negroes. How, you may ask?
- DEI specialists are often Black women, developing the strategies needed to fix majority-white organizations during times of crisis.
- They are fired or quietly phased out when organizations recognize their strategies require reckoning with past harms or still extant inequities in the workplace.
- When asking dedicated DEI staff members or consultants to fix the racial inequity in an organization, the DEI component is kept separate from the rest of the work of the organization. It remains a “secondary storyline” while the rest of the organization is expected to operate as usual.
The response to George Floyd’s murder and a myriad of other racial injustices has brought to light hordes of Mister Charlies and Miss Anns — clueless and requiring the unappreciated labor of Black and Brown folks to bring to light what staff of color had often been trying to unearth for decades. This has often led organizations across the spectrum to put out statements that many of us hoped would lead to meaningful change, only for those statements to fade into obscurity when no accountability accompanied them.
There’s never a full character development for the magical Negro, rather, since they exist merely in relationship to the white protagonist, we meet them at the point when they have had to put aside their needs and lives to help a white character learn a lesson.
Why DEI Roles and Sentiment are Being Eradicated.
What happens then when those called up from the sidelines in times of racial reckoning, dare to step into the spotlight? As we discovered the depth of our country’s embedded racism, paranoia began to take over. When the reality of the uneven playing field began to sink in, so did the backlash. As Shaun Harper wrote in Forbes, “there’s tremendous fear that the diversification of the American workforce will put numerous white men out of work and lock them out of leadership opportunities. Even though there’s so little evidence to confirm it’s actually occurring, the mere possibility of a zero-sum game is scary to those who’ve always benefited most.”
In a January 2020 Catapult article Nadia Owusu wrote, “Early in my tenure as a CDO, despite having been charged by higher-ups to facilitate workplace conversations about topics like white privilege, unconscious bias, and intersectionality, I was told—often by those same higher-ups—to ‘tone down the incendiary language.’” She continues, “If I had to prioritize the comfort of white employees over the clearly expressed needs of employees of color; if I had to avoid speaking in unambiguous terms about the very problems that I was charged with solving; if staff meetings were not the ‘right place’ for open, honest dialogue about these issues—then what was I supposed to be doing?”
This blowback aligns with the magical Negroes trope to a tee — they are often sacrificed on the altar of a good story arc or when the storyline dictates that the hero has learned their lesson. Their deaths come with swelling music, sometimes with the hero holding them in their arms as their storyline slowly ends. But even in death, they are simply a vehicle to reflect the evolution of the hero.
The character of the DEI specialist was created to provide absolution to some white colleagues for their complicity in perpetuating racist structures and yet, is constantly under threat of being rewritten by those same colleagues when the narrative doesn’t follow their script. There are far too many stories about DEI projects being shut down because white colleagues were “uncomfortable” with the conversation which leads to the unlikely plot twist that creator and destroyer of the role are one and the same.
Returning to McDonald’s premise that magical Negroes can’t exist without their hapless white co-stars; in a Harper’s Bazaar article that records a conversation between Rachel Cargle and EbonyJanice Moore, Moore says, “I have been asking my closest friends, including you, if you could dream yourself into your highest reality, would you be doing this work right now? Marching to Selma, would you be doing this? And 99.999 percent of the women said, ‘Hell, no. Hell no, I wouldn't be doing this work. I would be doing something else.’ So it's just the very idea that black women don't even particularly get to dream themselves free for real, for real, because we're so busy fighting … everything”
To which Cargle responds, “Who would we be if we weren't just trying to survive?”
The character of the DEI specialist was created to provide absolution to some white colleagues for their complicity in perpetuating racist structures and yet, is constantly under threat of being rewritten by those same colleagues when the narrative doesn’t follow their script.
What is possible when we’re not just trying to survive?
Who would we be if we weren’t tasked with solving 400 years of racism with an insufficient budget and the remit of putting the discomfort of our colleagues above the trauma and mental anguish of our own lived experiences? Who would we be if we could define ourselves by where our joy leads us rather than being led by the learned helplessness of our hapless colleagues?
Embracing Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work with genuine intention means diving deep into a well of collective wisdom, where the voices of the BIPOC community and dedicated allies resonate with decades of experience and fierce advocacy. It's about more than just listening—it's about amplifying these voices, letting their truths guide our actions and shape our strategies. This isn't merely cooperation; it's a powerful alliance against inequity, a chorus of voices that refuses to be silenced, advocating for a long overdue change.
In this journey towards a more equitable world, there's a pivotal moment of realization for those in positions of privilege: the act of gracefully stepping aside to let those with lived experience lead the charge. This isn't a step back; it's a strategic repositioning, a recognition that the spotlight shines brightest and most effectively when it illuminates those who can guide us with vulnerability and wisdom. In the grand theater of social change, every role is critical, and the magnitude of one's contribution isn't measured by the spotlight's width but by the depth of impact. In embracing this, we don't just engage in DEI work—we become part of a transformative movement, where every action, no matter the size, contributes to a legacy of equality and inclusion.