Why I might never become a manager

Eden Wen
The Startup
Published in
6 min readJun 1, 2020

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Photo by Drew Beamer on Unsplash

Originally published on my company internal newsletter.

Asian Americans are the least likely racial group in the United States to be promoted to management, despite being in a racial group that makes up 12% of the professional workforce — while making up 5.6% of the U.S. population. The large number of us in the workforce obviously doesn’t mean there’s a lack of finding Asian American talent, so why are there so few of us in management and executive positions, fewer than those who are black or Hispanic? Why is it that my white counterparts are twice as likely to be promoted than me? And why is it a pattern not only seen in the tech industry, but also in law, banking, accounting, and the public sector?

I do want to be a manager at some point in my career, and I think I would be good at it. I love building relationships and building people up, and I love the idea that it’s a position dedicated to empowering others to do their best work personally and professionally. But, looking at the data as it stands today, it might not ever become a reality for me.

Additionally, the intersectionality of being Asian and being a woman — needing to battle not one, but two sets of prejudices, stereotypes, and discrimination — presses me up against a “double-paned glass ceiling”.

The forgotten minority

Asian Americans are often the forgotten minority when it comes to diversity and inclusion efforts in the workplace. In fact, the limited upward mobility was coined the “bamboo ceiling” back in 2005, and yet over a decade later, it seems not much has changed at all.

In a real-life example of being a forgotten minority, the Harvard Business Review highlighted an unnamed Silicon Valley company that put out a diversity and inclusion report with no mention of Asian Americans, while addressing the black, Hispanic, and Native American demographics as distinct groups. Instead, Asian men were categorized with white men based on mere prevalence in the “non-underrepresented” (i.e. majority) population, and Asian women were grouped in the “women of all races” category.

Although Asian Americans are in the majority population in Silicon Valley, to group them with an overall racial majority introduced a “colorblind” aspect to the report’s representation. Racial colorblindness — not seeing race when it comes to diversity and inclusion — does more harm than good. In this instance of colorblindness, erasing Asian Americans, and thus erasing the unique opportunities and challenges that face this minority group, this company failed to recognize the problem of the bamboo ceiling; their non-underrepresented group of executives were still mostly white and male. Ultimately, seeing color matters, especially if you want to foster the talent of a diverse workforce.

What can we do about this?

Probably the most costly way to break the so-called bamboo ceiling is to bring in a dedicated firm to foster the talent of Asian Americans in the workplace. A firm or program like this integrates culturally specific leadership training for Asian Americans and helps us “recognize Asian and Western cultural biases and competencies” that affect our careers.

But seeing as how this isn’t possible for all organizations (budget, lack of programs nearby, priorities, etc.), I suggest that all leaders — and individual contributors — in each sector begin with educating ourselves and mentoring each other.

Educating ourselves

I believe the number one thing we can do in this category is to recognize our own biases, and we all have them (they are the “filters through which we see the world around us”), and to recognize the biases that others see us in.

When we look at our colleagues — direct reports, managers, those we bump into in the break room — what assumptions do we have about them? How do we treat them based on those biases we have? How do we know if they are true?

For Asian Americans, we are subject to the “model minority” myth that may seem positive in the short-term, but end up doing more harm in the long run, impeding our progression, as stated in an article about Asian Americans in science:

[T]his group is viewed as being quiet, hardworking, family oriented, and good at math and science. They also are seen as passive and nonconfrontational. While this model minority myth has boxed Asian Americans in, it has also helped them obtain jobs. However, within this box, they usually face “sticky floors” when it comes time to ascend the upper ladder of an organization.

Personally, when I was in school, classmates have admitted to me that they were nervous, when they saw that I would be their project partner; they thought that we might have a communication barrier. In previous jobs, I’ve had managers praise me for being so “nice and quiet” and that I “don’t ever have problems.”

By understanding the biases we are facing, we can better combat and overcome those. By understanding what others are facing, we can catch ourselves when we start thinking biasedly and allow our peers to work more freely.

Only through listening to and sharing our stories with each other can we begin to break down the biases we face and hold. Within Workfront (the company I work for), we have the employee resource group, Mosaic, that focuses on cultivating an inclusive environment with employees of color and is led by individuals who are willing to share their experiences.

Mentoring others

One doesn’t have to be a manager to start mentoring. I challenge you to mentor someone who doesn’t look like you in terms of race, gender, education, background, field, etc.

“The best mentors are the ones who can fill gaps in your skillset. Don’t seek a mentor who is your clone,” advises a Forbes article. To seek someone different from you is to open new doors you didn’t even know existed. This goes both ways, as a colleague of mine said: “Having mentors and mentoring others who are a different demographic than you is a great opportunity to learn and grow personally and professionally.”

Having been raised by Hong Kong immigrant parents to be deferential to authority and to consider the collective rather than the individual, it took me a long time into adulthood to learn how to come to work with my full self. I felt as if I lived two lives, one personal and one professional, the professional one always performing and acting how I thought my superiors would expect from a good employee. I didn’t go to work to make friends; it was only to put the time in for my employer and to make the company look good. Despite my hard work, my efforts never seemed to be noticed.

I have since learned how to show up to work with my full personality alongside my work ethic, learning that to have both is what makes me a well-rounded employee. These were lessons I learned from an unlikely group of mentors: my improv comedy class instructors. (Tina Fey is my role model.) Surprisingly, this simple practice of not thinking twice and being myself opened up new doors for me as I felt more at ease in the workplace and learned to take risks, eventually transitioning successfully into a new field.

Reflecting on my earlier career, I personally could have learned so much at a younger age from a mentor (preferably Tina-Fey-ish) to teach me 1) how to best evaluate, and even simply recognize, opportunities for advancing myself in my career, 2) how to navigate the bias boxes society puts me in, and 3) how to loosen up and have fun while doing it.

Today, I have learned these lessons. Now I know my next steps and what to look for in my next mentors to help me get there. And, ultimately, one day, regardless of the biases I have stacked against me, I will earn the promotion to be a manager.

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Eden Wen
The Startup

she/her: Writes for fun, UX for a living.