What Amanda Seales Continues to Teach Us About Black Women And Likability

"I believe most Black women can identify in some way with Seales’ struggle for acceptance," L. Michelle Smith writes.

A crucial conversation about Black women and likability has once again surfaced in pop culture — and, as a leadership expert, I’m here for it. Now that all the noise around Amanda Seales’ Club Shay Shay interview has somewhat died down, we can get to the underlying message it sparked about why she makes so many people uncomfortable.

In recent history, Seales has been very vocal about being excluded from important Black events and awards, and her candor has elicited reactions of all types from the community. One early 2024 op-ed about her, published in Essence , began by defending her but ultimately delved into how challenging it can be to work with someone who “seems committed to exhaustingly agitating the establishment, even when they have really good points and even better intentions.”

While points were made, the piece stirred up considerable b acklash from fans because it ultimately asserts the idea that Seales may be fundamentally unlikable. This is not a surprising conclusion. After all, is Seales, like any outspoken, well-informed Black woman, ever the most popular anywhere?

The debate was reignited later in the spring, when Shannon Sharpe interviewed Seales on his now wildly popular podcast. This time around, Seales talked openly and emotionally about being kicked out of a Black Emmys party, as well as not feeling embraced or protected by fellow Black women colleagues such as Issa Rae and Marsha Ambrosius during previous phases in her career.

Much of the response to that interview from Seales’ supporters on social media was immediate yet sharp, highlighting the importance of nuanced discussions on race and gender in professional settings. These topics are often overlooked in broad-stroke racial and social justice conversations in pop culture.

In light of these conversations, I want to talk about a slightly different type of likability — the kind that applies specifically to our careers. This is the likability that applies in the workplace and it’s what experts say makes a good leader.

I came upon some really important research in a report from Harvard Business Review while I was writing my third book . The information spoke to me about how Black women leaders, who largely reported being unhappy in the workplace, can find happiness and therefore success at the highest levels despite being in an environment where they are isolated .

While the research doesn’t specifically focus on Black women, it topples common ideas of what it means for anyone to be likable as a leader at work; the emphasis is less on personal tastes and social interactions and more on your approach to work and how you respond to change in business. When applying the findings of this research to my own studies of Black women leaders and the obstacles we face in spaces that other us, I thought about how all our perceptions of Seales might shift if we viewed her in a more objective context.

This workplace likability is all about transparency, the willingness to admit when you’re wrong, a commitment to excellence, authenticity and transformational leadership. This modern take on likability allows Black women like Seales to achieve professional success without compromising their identity — and I think we would all benefit from adopting this more enlightened approach.

Because, like Seales, some of us are not your friends; we are women in a professional setting that was not designed with us in mind. We’re just trying to do well for ourselves and our community.

As I dug deeper into the research, it became clearer to me: Leadership likability is quantifiable. It’s objective. Black women, therefore, should have a shot at likability, despite our status as “double outsiders.” This likability excuses Black women leaders like Seales — who tend to be ejected from industry because they don’t fit the white-centric mold — from popularity contests.

Because being popular (or making everyone feel at ease) is different from true professional likability. Someone you like is someone you want to have drinks or dinner with outside of work. It’s recreational. If you like someone, you might invite them over so your kids can play. While professional likability can lead to these scenarios and often does, being liked or popular in the traditional sense is not a requirement of professional industry.

I argue that this perspective might make room for people to be more authentic while still getting to remain in their professional spaces.

The reality is that many Black women leaders find themselves in a conundrum about how authentic we can be in spaces that automatically other us. Seales, like most Black women, appears to struggle to balance that. Some resort to code-switching. However, to remain authentic in these spaces, it’s an issue of calibration. Building your emotional intelligence muscle is crucial. What I’ve taken from my work as a credentialed executive coach and C-suite adviser is that we all need to read the room, adjust — but always be real.

When trying to maintain balance, Black women leaders can ask themselves these three questions: Does this space deserve or require all of me? Do the people in the room know me well enough to accept all of me? Should I be in this space in the first place?

Consider calibrating by “style flexing”: a term coined by a mentor of mine, Trudy Bourgeois, retired Fortune 500 executive and human capital expert. It essentially means to t urn the volume up or down on our whole selves in various situations, while never covering who we truly are. “Brakes-off” authenticity is not the best idea with people who do not know you well. It typically only works best with family and friends — or people that already get you, such as Seales’ followers get her.

Knowing how to show up requires understanding the emotions and triggers of others. If a Black woman feels the need to turn the volume down on her authenticity often, and after others have gotten to know her, she may, like Seales, consider leaving the space.

I believe most Black women can identify in some way with Seales’ struggle for acceptance if they are honest. It is tough to claim that we don’t care how people view and treat us. We do. This is why we raise these issues. The good news is, however, that we have a choice. We can take back some control over these instances with discernment, self-awareness and wisely selecting the spaces we frequent.