Journal of Social Work Education ISSN: 1043-7797 (Print) 2163-5811 (Online) Journal homepage: http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/uswe20 The Power of Sum: An Accountability Sistah Circle Denise R. McLane-Davison, Camille R. Quinn, Kimberly Hardy & Rhoda L. Smith To cite this article: Denise R. McLane-Davison, Camille R. Quinn, Kimberly Hardy & Rhoda L. Smith (2018) The Power of Sum: An Accountability Sistah Circle, Journal of Social Work Education, 54:1, 18-32, DOI: 10.1080/10437797.2017.1336139 To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/10437797.2017.1336139 Published online: 05 Oct 2017. Submit your article to this journal Article views: 185 View related articles View Crossmark data Full Terms & Conditions of access and use can be found at http://www.tandfonline.com/action/journalInformation?journalCode=uswe20 JOURNAL OF SOCIAL WORK EDUCATION 2018, VOL. 54, NO. 1, 18–32 https://doi.org/10.1080/10437797.2017.1336139 The Power of Sum: An Accountability Sistah Circle Denise R. McLane-Davison, Camille R. Quinn, Kimberly Hardy, and Rhoda L. Smith ABSTRACT ARTICLE HISTORY Duoethnography offers the narratives of first-generation Black women scholars who created a virtual community as a transformative safe space for peer mentorship and scholarship. Framed through a womanist epistemological lens, our narratives provide insight about challenges and triumphs of navigating the academy from female scholars of African descent. Unique to this chronicle, the development of an Accountability Sistah Circle in 2012 became an organic transformative community for personal and professional growth. Through the components of this model, which can be implemented with others living in the margins, we uncovered our authentic voices, shared resources, expanded social capital, and developed a ritual that provided a safety shield around us and ultimately helped enhance our academic fortitude. Accepted: August 2016 Prior to creating the Accountability Circle, I was invited to write a chapter in a coedited book on Black womanhood. I met the coauthors through our professional associations as womanist scholars. I submitted a chapter proposal many months prior to receiving the invitation, and I presumed that it had not been accepted. I was ecstatic and fearful when I received this invitation— fearful because I worried that I might miss the deadline because of competing personal responsibilities and work politics and tasks. It felt odd to me that there would be no conference calls or other formal communication with the coauthors of the book between the request and the deadline. In essence, I was about to write about women’s community work and leadership, and yet I was alone, with a plethora of research and a blank document. I was perplexed that I was writing about community but was outside community. In the profession of social work, collaboration and community are valued. Carlton-LaNey (1999) documents strategies of African American social work pioneers who used social networks, webs of affiliation, mutual aid, self-help, and racial uplift as community organizational strategies to address racial and gender inequalities (Gilkes, 2001; Jean-Marie, 2006). These networks are even more critical for social work scholars in the academy pursuing a doctoral degree or applying for promotion and tenure. For many, success in the academy does not allow room for error; and it seems that when errors are made by women scholars of color, they undoubtedly suffer lasting consequences. Successful scholars undergo a socialization process that prepares them to assume the role of educator and researcher (Reisch, 2002). Without this mentorship and socialization process, doctoral students and pretenured faculty are likely to struggle in the “cloistered and cerebral space” of academia (Seymour, 2006, p. 460). In this article, we describe our professional experiences in academia through reflective practices based on womanist epistemology and the creation of the Accountability Sistah Circle (ASC). The ASC model (see Figure 1) evolved from the vision of the creator and facilitator to develop a supportive community to attain scholarly goals. In 2012 the facilitator identified a diverse group of women at different stages in the academy and invited them to participate in the ASC. CONTACT Denise McLane-Davison denise.davison@morgan.edu Cold Spring Lane, Baltimore, MD 21251-0001. © 2017 Council on Social Work Education School of Social Work, Morgan State University, 1700 E. JOURNAL OF SOCIAL WORK EDUCATION ESTABLISH STRUCTURE IDENTIFY FACILITATOR DUTIES CELEBRATE ACHIEVED GOALS PROBLEM SOLVE 19 • Identify three goals per week • 1-hour call per week to review progress • Report weekly progress in 10 minutes from each participant • • • • Document individual goals in table Initiate weekly conference call with participants Timekeeper Disseminate weekly accountability log after each call • Celebrate achieved weekly goals • Briefly address issues on call • In-depth follow-up via personal Facebook inbox message, e-mail, or phone call Figure 1. Accountability Sistah Circle model. The ASC became our space of community where we built resilience, uncovered our authentic voices, shared resources, collaborated, expanded social capital, and developed a ritual that provided a safety shield around us, which ultimately helped enhance our academic fortitude. The specific components of the ASC model are discussed next. Chutes and ladders: Academe and women of color Climb up and slide down in the exciting game of ups and downs, Chutes and Ladders! You and the character on your pawn can see the square marked 100, but it’s not so easy to get there. If you land on a good deed, you can shimmy up a ladder, but land on the wrong spot and you’ll shoot down a chute! Spin the spinner to see how many spots you’ll move. Will your new spot send you down or move you up, up, up? —Chutes and Ladders (1943) A growing body of literature that focuses on the experiences of women of color in higher education describes marginal living as including isolation (Simon, Perry, & Roff, 2008), racial stressors (Thomas & Hollenshead, 2001), academic bullying (DeSouza, 2011; Fraizer, 2011), salary inequities (Burke, Cropper, & Harrison, 2000), microaggressions (Reynolds-Dobbs, Thomas, & Harrison, 2008; Wilson, 2012), limited opportunities for advancement (Vakalahi & Starks, 2010), unwritten rules, hidden agendas (Evans & Cokley, 2008; Harley, 2008), and epistemological racism (Monzó & SooHoo, 2014; Stone-Mediatore, 2007). Meaningful mentorship can be defined as the broader relationships developed between early career and senior faculty to facilitate engagement in scholarly activities (i.e., submission of publications, research and funding opportunities; Gregory, 2001), alleviate feelings of isolation and alienation (Zellers, Howard, & Barcic, 2008), and be utilized as a tool to socialize new faculty of color to the academy (Johnson-Bailey & Cervero, 2004; Staley, 2006) while helping them address the political landscape of the academy, and achieve their professional goals (Davis et al., 2012; Generett & Cozart, 2012; Grant & Simmons, 2008; Vakalahi, 20 D. R. MCLANE-DAVISON ET AL. Sermon, Richardson, Dillard, & Moncrief, 2014). However, mentorship by senior scholars of color is not always available or accessible, so emerging scholars have to identify other mechanisms of support to successfully traverse the academic landscape. Moreover, many female scholars of African ancestry may not have cohort members or colleagues (junior faculty members) of color, so the need for a community of support becomes even greater. The groundbreaking book by Muhs, Niemann, Gonzales, and Harris (2012) tells the stories of women of color and their resilience and triumphs over adversity in higher education through personal narratives and qualitative empirical studies. Particular attention is given to strategies for personal survival while simultaneously holding institutions accountable for hostile and unwelcoming work environments. Notably, for the narratives we present in this article, marginal living has felt like a poorly played game of Chutes and Ladders (1943) as we negotiate unfamiliar spaces on the outskirts, yet within academic communities. For women of African ancestry, the intersection of gender, race, class, and ethnic identity is deeply imbedded in historical sociopolitical systems that have assigned place and value (Helms, Nicolas, & Green, 2012). These same identities have been the catalyst for our entry into the academy to pursue the highest degrees; thus, our identities inform our research, have an impact on our teaching pedagogy, influence our community service (Patton, 2009; Stone-Mediatore, 2007; Turner, González, & Wong, 2011), and ultimately affect our development as intellectual scholars (Hooks & West, 1991). Womanist epistemology Womanism is inclusive of women of color yet is rooted in the everyday experiences and challenges of Black women as they navigate interlocking systems of oppression and overcome barriers in their daily lives (Collins, 2004; Crenshaw, 1991; Norwood, 2013; Phillips, 2006; Walker, 1983). Initially, Walker (1983) introduced the concept womanish to describe the sassy, bold, and outrageous way Black girls respond to the world. More important, she describes womanism as an inherent aspect of Black women’s concrete history in racial and gender oppression (Phillips, 2006; Walker, 1983; Collins, 1996). Womanist ways of addressing issues are grounded in dedication and responsibility to the wholeness of the community (Gilkes, 2001). Feminism—including Black feminism—is significant to womanism, yet other theories (e.g., critical race theory, social justice movements) are proportionately fundamental (Banks-Wallace, 2000). Critical race theory does not ignore the role and impact of race in the lives of minorities and includes a fuller cultural context to recognize their uniqueness within a specific social context (Quinn & Grumbach, 2015). Binary and dichotomous arguments that favor gender and sexism at the expense of other forms of oppression are ultimately rejected as separatism (Collins, 2004; Gilkes, 2001; Phillips, 2006). Womanists’ methods of social transformation are centered in restorative, reconciling, and healing properties of different groups, environment, nature, and spiritual and transcendental realms (Phillips, 2006). Relationships are used to resist violence and aggression and rebuild harmony through everyday activities such as “dialogue, arbitration and mediation, spiritual activities, hospitality, mutual aid and self-help, and mothering” (Phillips, 2006, p. xxvi). Womanist epistemology research (WER) centers the everyday experiences of Black women as a prerequisite to addressing philosophical problems related to the concepts of knowledge and truth (Banks-Wallace, 2000). WER explores, assesses, and exposes covert agendas, power imbalances, power focal points, and assumptions that inhibit, stifle, and constrict the progress of Black individuals, families, and communities; additionally, WER considers how women evoke agency in hostile social environments (Banks-Wallace, 2000; Collins, 2004; Crenshaw, 2011; Espino, 2012). The female voice is authenticated through storytelling, the use of proverbs and affirmations, idioms, lyrics, and whatever is deemed essential for the knowledge to be conveyed. In particular, storytelling is used to promote community building and simultaneously functions as a point of resistance through counterstorytelling (Phillips, 2006). Individuals who have lived the experiences are considered to be more believable and to have expertise in the area, more than individuals who are simply reporting the JOURNAL OF SOCIAL WORK EDUCATION 21 experiences (Banks-Wallace, 2000). Thus, engagement in emancipatory research practices, such as WER, promotes the enhancement of quality of life and substantive positive life outcomes for women (Banks-Wallace, 2000; Collins, 2004; Phillips, 2006). Autoethnography, a qualitative methodology, is consistent with the WER methodology. As Patton (2002) said, “In autoethnography, then, you use your own experiences to garner insights into the larger culture or subculture of which you are a part” (p. 86). Furthermore, Patton suggests that “autoethnography is an autobiographical genre of writing research that displays multiple layers of consciousness, connecting the personal to the cultural” (p. 86). Texts in autoethnography have diverse formats and share similar elements with WER, such as “short stories, poetry, fiction, novels, photographic essays, journals, self-awareness, dialogue, spirituality, institutional stories impacted by history, and social structure” (Patton, 2002, p. 86). Autoethnography is distinguished as “reporting one’s own experiences and introspections as a primary data source” (Patton, 2002, p. 86). Duoethnography is considered to be “two or more participants bringing different life experiences and ways of knowing, and perspectives to a shared phenomenon” (Monzó & SooHoo, 2014, p. 155). Duoethnography has three main components: collaboration, critical dialogue, and transformative methodology. “Transformation is considered significant since it is achieved through self-reflection, critical dialogue, and the opportunity to make sense of one’s life through the process of discovery and another’s worldviews” (Monzó & SooHoo, 2014, p. 155). Autoethnography and duoethnography are congruent with WER as a methodology of exploration, validation, and affirmation of the ASC members’ narratives through the lived experience. For the purposes of this article, two components of WER—collaboration and transformative methodology (Sistah narratives)—are included to describe the ASC model using an applied womanist framework. Shared phenomenon: The ASC We must develop strategies to gain critical assessment of our worth and value that do not compel us to look for critical evaluation and affirmation from the very structures, institutions, and individuals who do not believe in our capacity to learn (Hooks & West, 1991, p. 160). The uniqueness of our ASC, or the Circle, is found in our diverse individual and collective identities. When founding the Circle, we were all at different stages in our academic careers, at different institutions, occupying different positions (student, administrator, and faculty), researching diverse topics; and yet we were all experiencing parallel challenges within our academic environments. For our ASC, an invitation was extended for participation based on the creator’s professional network. The facilitator sent a group inbox message on Facebook to a select group of women in her social network. The women who responded became the original members of the ASC. There was no application process, fee, or other formal way of joining. Our commonality was that we were women balancing family, work, and personal responsibilities while simultaneously completing a doctoral program or occupying a full-time faculty or administrative appointment in a social work program. One defining characteristic of the members was that many of us had immediate or short-term writing goals. Initially, the ASC included a tenured social work professor, who moved to a different university and had to be retenured; a recently graduated social work PhD, who was excited about her writing agenda as an assistant professor; a doctoral student in the final stages of completing the dissertation requirement for her PhD in social work; a doctoral student, who was beginning to write her dissertation proposal; and a newly tenured associate professor of sociology pursuing an MSW degree. Although there was no deliberate decision for a homogenous racial identity to make up the ASC, all the original members self-identified as Black or African American, except one who was White. Over time, the Circle’s membership shifted because of workload and research foci. The current members include African American doctoral students and three tenure-track faculty members (including one who recently completed a postdoctoral fellowship). 22 D. R. MCLANE-DAVISON ET AL. Developing a collaborative community During the first ASC call, we established a plan to focus on three weekly goals for each member. New goals were not added without the resolution of previously stated goals to help make the process manageable. During the report portion of our weekly calls on Sunday nights, each participant would take 10 minutes to share her three tasks, her progress, anticipated completion date, and the type of support needed from the group to achieve her goals. The facilitator kept detailed notes of each person’s goals in a weekly accountability log (see Table 1), including each ASC member’s contact information (e.g., e-mail address, phone number), content expertise and research focus, weekly goals, completion date, and the type of support needed from the group. This log was sent to the group electronically by Monday of each week. When members did not make progress, they were invited to share the obstacles they encountered and how they planned to resolve them. Each member’s weekly achievement of her goals was viewed as a collective achievement that added momentum to our experiences as scholars. At the end of each semester, group members reviewed ongoing participation, which was unanimously favorable. A year into the ASC, we developed a private Facebook group for our members. The Facebook group helped us continue our exchanges after calls had ended and was a place where we could provide solutions and share resources. Our stories of transformation through the ASC Let me be in council with the sisters and create a new world of mutual respect.—September 22, 2010, 1:08 am, Personal Journal Entry In this section, we present ASC members’ personal narratives and share the ways that the Circle was instrumental in supporting members in pursuit of their professional goals. Each narrative includes the four components of the ASC model (where feasible), which are establish structure, identify facilitator duties, celebrate achieved goals, and problem solve. Sistah no. 1: “The help” I entered this institution as a PhD student in my third year and as a temporary assistant professor. Within 2 years, I moved into the full-time position of field education coordinator for the extension campus, which was located in the suburbs of a major urban city in the southeastern United States. Much like the Jim Crow laws of the 1960s, the lines of demarcation had clearly been drawn in terms of race, gender, demographics (South vs. North), tenure versus nontenure, and PhD versus MSW, long before my arrival. Although we had Black administrators, this had little to no impact on being a “welcoming” climate for minority faculty members. Thus, there were overt and latent sanctions from both White and Black colleagues that impacted my affiliation as part of the faculty. Table 1. Weekly accountability log. Participant DATE: February 12–18, 2012 Name E-mail address Phone number Area of expertise Name E-mail address Phone number Area of expertise Goal 1 Book chapter submit by 2/11/12 Resubmit IRB 2/10/12 Note. IRB=institutional review board. Goal 2 Goal 3 Support Needed Develop outline for Complete research Sample cover letter to article on leadership training application by editor By 2/12/12 2/12/12 Review draft of research training application Recodifications of Apply for scholarship Listening to inner self IRB 2/13/12 2/14/12 and attending to selfcare JOURNAL OF SOCIAL WORK EDUCATION 23 My Black feminist/womanist pedagogy, natural ethnic hair styles, love of contemporary and traditional African attire, as well as, teaching course work on cultural diversity added to the narrative of a select group of students who felt that I was angry, intimidating, anti-Christian, unapproachable, and racist. From several Black faculty and a few Black students, I was shunned as being boisterous, “too ethnic,” and “too Black.” Although this was not the overall consensus of my presence, it was absolutely a consistent voice that made my daily work life uncomfortable and even hostile at times. My position as the field education coordinator—working mostly with urban social service agencies and field supervisors—further increased this perception that I was “separate” from the main faculty. Despite field education being the signature pedagogy of social work education, it was often perceived as being disconnected from the main curriculum. Tenured faculty blatantly expressed that they felt field education was beneath or outside of their scope of work as “true scholars.” Coordinating field education placements meant synchronizing numerous variables such as location, population, hours of operation, field supervisors, and areas of specialty; complex work with moving parts for each student. The historic mentality of the office in working with students to prepare them for their placement was the “Burger King” philosophy of “Have it your way!” Thus, the consequences for not being immediately able to serve the students every whim were severe (which I found out the hard way). One such penalty manifested as a Facebook page that openly bashed and slandered me and another Black female professor under the auspices of a student representative on the student-faculty committee. This student used her power to register a formal complaint with my supervisor and circulated a student petition against me on behalf of her friends. As a result, I received accusations of reverse discrimination that were sent to the university’s legal office; I was coerced to change students’ grades by certain administrators; I had an experience of a student standing over me screaming “You are the worst teacher!” in front of my class; I was accused of being unprofessional (attire, attitude, appearance); I was accused of favoritism toward Black male students; and I was placed on a remedial work plan. Student incivility toward certain Black faculty was both tolerated and encouraged, and was mimicked by a core group of White faculty members. Student complaints against specific faculty were not vetted through an independent investigation, nor was there an established procedure for faculty to have due process. Subsequently, these incidents and narratives were used to justify nonmerit raises and poor performance evaluations. Although I was at a major research institution, I was repeatedly reprimanded for engaging in research, grant, and scholarship activities. I was told that this was not part of my job description and that those types of activities were reserved for tenure-track faculty. My value was limited to the racebased activities of serving as faculty adviser to the Black student group; representing at Minority Recruitment and Retention Day; meeting the diversity quota on the search committee; and voting with “the group.” Despite having a degree from an Ivy League school, completing my PhD, more than 25 years of social work practice and administrative experience, publications in peer-reviewed journals, and more than 10 years of teaching in higher education, the expectation was that I function in a supportive role for students, faculty (specifically tenure track), field supervisors, administrators, and the institution. Or in other words, I felt as though I was “the help.” Structuring ASC provided a space for me to transform and heal from these bitter academic experiences. In the group, I use my womanist leadership skills to deconstruct, reconstruct, and reclaim my work and value as an academic scholar. ASC has become my safe-haven, confidant, adviser, skills builder, and motivator. As the ASC creator, I begin each session each week by first listening to other members and recording their weekly goals. Subsequently, their stories provide insight into problem solving and help me achieve my goals. Over time, I discovered that I did less talking about the state of affairs at the job and more about how to achieve my goals. How could I overcome writer’s block? Who had a sample letter to a journal editor? What are the components of a research agenda for a cover letter? We also talk about opportunities to respond to calls for papers, proposals, and academic positions. As a result of the Circle, I consulted with the university faculty ombudsperson regarding the departmental climate. And although the microaggressions and incivility didn’t decrease at my 24 D. R. MCLANE-DAVISON ET AL. institution, I changed my outlook on how I would let it affect me. Because of the ASC, I rediscovered my inner strength and celebrated the completion of a book chapter through the support of my community. My professional outlook and productivity has increased, and when I was recruited for a tenure-track position at another institution, I had the currency of scholarship publications. As a result of 3 years of being in the ASC, I’ve continuously celebrated the opportunity I had to change institutions and have earned repeated merit-based raises. I am openly engaged in Africana womanist epistemological research, teaching pedagogy, and scholarship. I’ve coauthored published research, made professional presentations, and served as a coprincipal investigator on funded research projects. I’ve also been competitively selected to participate in several national research training programs. At my new institution, I feel there is an intentional investment in my professional development, which includes validation and celebration. Sistah no. 2: “In search of an academic parent” Obtaining a doctoral degree in social work has been a lifelong dream. However, this dream has not been without consequence or heavy debt. Many doctoral students enter their programs well versed in the ways of the academy, based on previous mentorship during their undergraduate and graduate studies. Some doctoral students even have faculty sponsors who make things happen for them by using their social capital in the academy. Yet, many doctoral students enter their programs and struggle to navigate the academy; initially, I was one of those students. I was excited and ambitious and couldn’t wait to become a Dr. And although I was clear about my social work practice-informed academic pursuits, I wasn’t clear about the mechanics of academia and how this lack of knowledge could have an impact on my survival and success. One of the greatest challenges I experienced as a doctoral student was managing my personal and familial responsibilities with the expectations of my doctoral program. There was constant tension between earning an income and dedicating time to my course work and research duties. Following a semester leave, I returned to my doctoral program on a part-time basis as I resumed working fulltime to support myself. Shortly thereafter, my grandfather—my sole father figure—succumbed to a chronic illness and was hospitalized until his death. His untimely death was difficult emotionally and affected my academic focus. In addition, working full-time also limited my ability to develop mentoring relationships with faculty members to flourish in my program. As a part-time student, I wasn’t on campus every day, so I wasn’t a part of the inner workings of the college. In the midst of my personal challenges, I was displaced from my full-time position. Consequently, I reenrolled full time in my doctoral program, which resulted in more debt. I was happy to return to the academic setting on a full-time basis and secured a minority fellowship to cover some of my living expenses, but I had to reestablish myself in the college and demonstrate that I was serious about completing my PhD. In addition to my fellowship, I obtained a graduate assistantship, which exposed me to government constituents who held access to data I needed for my dissertation study. Over time, the relationship with my dissertation chair grew and evolved in ways I never imagined. For the first time, I felt like someone really cared about me, my work, and my future. Her mentorship encompassed a focus on the importance of my work as one day she turned to me and said, “Your work is important . . . don’t worry, you will get there.” She also stressed the need for ethical research and generously shared her experiences, as well as her content expertise, with systeminvolved adolescents that enhanced my skills as both a scholar and as a researcher. More importantly, our relationship became the corrective experience that I needed to develop confidence in my own abilities. When I was invited to join the ASC, I was at a critical point in my doctoral training. I was at a stage in the process where I had completed all but my dissertation and I was awaiting institutional review board approval for my dissertation study—so I welcomed the accountability structure. Shortly thereafter, my grandmother came to live with my mother and me, and we cared for her until she transitioned. JOURNAL OF SOCIAL WORK EDUCATION 25 My mother, a few select friends, and the Sistahs in the Circle were my support system (outside the college) as I proceeded toward my goal of a PhD. Specifically, it was my mother who assumed the financial burdens of our household when I stopped working to complete my dissertation. She was there every step of the way providing emotional and psychological support and cheering me on. My mother also encouraged me to participate in different professional development opportunities and provided the support that allowed me to attend and present at national conferences. At one such conference, I met and reconnected with several scholars including the ASC founder. She demonstrated the epitome of leadership in her role as the ASC creator and facilitator, which encouraged me to remain consistent and committed to the group. There were several times when I tried to bow out of the weekly calls because I hadn’t achieved my goals or was just frustrated with my overall lack of progress. No matter what my complaint, she affirmed my effort and assured me that sharing my struggles was just as vital as sharing my achievements. The nonjudgmental feedback from the ASC members bolstered my confidence and changed my outlook; I could see a path to complete my goal. The nonjudgmental spirit of the group facilitated problem solving in a way that fostered honest exchanges during the calls. In addition, sometimes issues were posed during a call, and members would provide solutions and resources via Facebook that continued our exchanges virtually as we prepared for the upcoming conference call. During the same conference, I connected with a senior faculty member who encouraged me to apply for a National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) virtual mentoring program. He is an accomplished senior scholar; so when I contacted the program director and indicated that his colleague referred me it was as if a door had been automatically opened. As a selected participant, I received mentorship through an assigned mentor, support to complete an academic development plan for my career, the opportunity to attend webinars about securing National Institutes of Health funding, and support to present at and attend a national research conference. The support was structured, and there were specific tasks that I had to complete to be successful in the program. This mentoring program provided the vehicle to further develop as an emerging scholar and was an integral aspect of the mentorship I needed. Similar to my experience with the NIMH’s virtual mentoring program, I had not met most of the women in the ASC except for the founder whom I had known for many years. These calls became a window into the mechanics of academia that were still somewhat foreign to me. I was one of three doctoral students in the ASC, and my fellow Sistahs always offered insights about their experiences as they completed their dissertation studies. What was most compelling was hearing the variety of experiences from junior and senior faculty affiliated with different institutions throughout the country, which provided a level of confidentiality and fostered trust among us. The support of my dissertation chair and committee, formal mentorship in the NIMH program, and the guidance of the ASC provided me with the dimensions of support I needed to make meaning of all my experiences and successfully secure my PhD. My dissertation defense is one of my fondest memories for several reasons. First, my mother and one of my best friends sat in on my defense, so they had a chance to experience the process firsthand. Second, the founder of the ASC made a surprise trip to attend my defense and support me. Their presence in that space provided the spiritual fortitude that I didn’t even know I needed to transition successfully from “doctoral student” to “Doctor.” In essence, my search for an academic parent ended with securing an academic family—a national network of support that continues to make a powerful difference in my life. Collectively, my academic family has also allowed me to build a foundation for my academic career, which includes receiving two university awards that funded my dissertation study, completing my PhD, being selected for a NIMH National Research Service Award postdoctoral fellowship, authoring and coauthoring manuscripts in peer-reviewed journals, securing two university grants for my current research project, presenting papers and posters at four national conferences, and completing three national research training institutes. Most recently, I completed my postdoctoral fellowship and started a tenure-track assistant professor position at a Research 1 university’s college of 26 D. R. MCLANE-DAVISON ET AL. social work. None of these achievements would have been possible without my network of support, especially from the ASC. Furthermore, my ASC Sistahs always celebrated when I achieved my goals. My Sistahs continue to validate me in ways that inspire me to be my very best, and I am honored to be a part of such a powerful circle. Sistah no. 3: “Getting to Sunday: Finding sanctuary within the circle” The academy can be a vexing community for even the most seasoned professors. One’s publication count, journal impact factors, and notoriety do little to insulate one against the realities of life as a scholar that are neatly summed up in the trinity of higher education: scholarship, teaching, and service. Yet for some of us, the register of tribulations includes challenges to our very personhood from insidious microaggressions to full-on personal and professional assaults. Life in higher education for women frequently involves learning how to dodge insults and hide our pain for fear of creating gendered stereotypes that can keep us out of leadership positions. The intersectionality of gender and race, however, makes life as an African American woman in academe a nearly soul-defeating experience. As a woman, the display of your pain makes you emotional and irrational; as an African American woman you are perceived as angry and hostile no matter how gently you try to advocate for yourself. And so you learn to either own your selfworth and refuse to be marginalized without a fight, knowing all the while that you risk the coveted accoutrements of life in the academy—tenure, directorships, and respect—or you learn to be silent in your pain until the very purpose of your journey grows ever more obscure. At the time that I was invited to join the Circle, I was moving rather swiftly from self-advocacy to silence, feeling isolated, marginalized, and judged. I was hired specifically to contribute to the Black studies curriculum, yet I frequently felt like the contributions I did make, despite being in direct alignment with the role I was brought in to fill, were minimized and seen as a “distraction” from the work that academia truly values. My involvement with the African American students was a constant source of conversation about how “lucky” they were to have me there, but that I needed to “remember to get the writing done.” My students, however, were experiencing the same sort of isolation and sense of meaninglessness in the program, and most of them had no other support system in the area. The time I devoted to supporting them inside and outside the classroom was, as I later learned, the only reason they made it through. I had allies among the faculty, although most of them were the silent type—those who supported me in my office but said nothing publicly when their voices could have helped me feel a sense of connectedness and value. Eventually, I found myself intentionally withdrawing and spending days either behind closed doors in my office or working off campus to avoid being alone among the group. There was no community for me. At the beginning of the fall 2012 semester, I was completely blindsided by a call from the provost’s office that eventually led to months of having to advocate for myself around tenure, even before I was in my third year. During the call, I was told that colleagues felt that I needed to explain “the nature of social work research” to the provost, a man in the engineering discipline. That was followed by the most humiliating and embarrassing meeting with the Faculty Review Board, as I was pummeled with questions about my role in the program and nature of my research from random strangers who were mostly from the science, technology, engineering, and mathematics disciplines. Ironically, it would be these strangers who after this meeting supported me. My isolation increased and morphed into shame. I was told that my publications were in weak journals, that overall there were not enough articles, and that my book was a contribution to teaching and not research (God forbid). After months of grueling emotional discomfort with nearly no support and no peace, I felt like I was falling into a depression. I doubted and second-guessed myself, and my spirit felt attacked nearly every day. I was now internalizing my oppression and subjecting myself to it daily. JOURNAL OF SOCIAL WORK EDUCATION 27 It was one month before all of this tumult began that I joined the ASC. Our Sunday evening calls were structured and very focused as we detailed our accomplishments from the previous week and our goals for the current week. In short order, the group became a source of support, and when the upheaval began in the spring, they were all that kept me going. I mentioned on one of the calls that the only way to make it through the week was to focus on “getting to Sunday” where I could problem solve with the Circle by sharing my confusion and disappointment, as well as my triumphs and joys. The Sistahs in the Circle let me speak my truth about the pain I felt. They lived my challenges and shared with me the ways in which they coped. They reaffirmed my commitment to my students and understood my disinterest in writing for the sake of writing. They lifted me up when I was ready to stop fighting by reminding me of the bigger purpose ordained in my spirit—that the fight was not my own and thus not mine to quit. They reminded me that others were counting on my victory. Each Sunday night I was made whole from the support of women who are my friends. The ASC provided a structured, much-needed community of peers who not only buoyed my spirit personally but were open to the research and writing I actually wanted to do professionally. Within months, my entire perspective on my situation was completely different. By the following spring semester, I had turned down four unsolicited job offers from different universities—two of which were in leadership positions—and accepted another that has provided me with an opportunity to be my best self, where I know that I am valued and my contributions truly matter. In February 2013, I was able to tender my resignation and did so with such a light spirit and blessed peacefulness because I knew that I was walking into the space where I was supposed to thrive! If not for the Sistah scholars of the Circle who celebrated me, it is very likely that my spirit would have been broken and my soul crushed. These women have been a lifeline for me that I know so many other women and women of color in academia desperately need. My mother always said that “you praise the bridge that carried you across,” and so I have no regrets about joining the faculty of my previous university, and there is absolutely no malice toward anyone there. I was blessed with a great many opportunities that were in large measure the reason other institutions recruited me. But it became very clear to me—through the wisdom and love of the women in the Circle—that I was meant to pass through that space for a time, but my true calling requires that I be somewhere else. Sistah no. 4: “Don’t count me out!” My journey through the academy has been eventful. It’s as if you know things could happen, but not thinking it would happen to you. My selection as a minority fellow during my doctoral research process was a great boost to my professional development. However, it intersected with a personal crisis, when an accident derailed me both physically and academically. So there I sat, unable to walk independently and unable to drive, while the other fellows started their first semester by engaging in activities and forming relationships. I felt as though I was the odd one out. The physical separation from school led to isolation. I had completed my course work and was determined not to fall into the abyss, so I kept working on my research during my recovery. During this time, I was assigned my second dissertation chair, but she was disengaged and didn’t find my research topic to be interesting enough for her or my committee. I was depending on her support and mentorship, but she soon shared that she was nearing retirement and began to show signs of late-life “senioritis.” She made it clear that I was “doing too much” and needed to simplify my methodology, which led to nine trial-and-error revisions of my methods chapter. Between dissertation chairs No. 2 and No. 3, I joined the ASC and connected with my fellow Sistahs in the academy. Through some brief discussions, we concluded that the academy was a complex system, and we all needed to have a structured way to support and acknowledge one another. We needed a place where all of the unspoken rules would be shared. We needed a place where we could discuss the rules that may—or may not—be exercised in your favor at someone’s discretion and how to overcome that challenge. We needed a place to talk about the “imposter syndrome”—not feeling good enough and not being perceived as being good enough. And although 28 D. R. MCLANE-DAVISON ET AL. the cultural climate in the academy justifies the common saying, “It’s not personal, it’s just the way it is”, somehow, it almost always feels personal. I felt renewed in this space with these women, and it was a very exciting time. My last child was heading to college and life looked good. I was finally going to be able to focus and finish my PhD without interruptions of dance classes, play rehearsals, and parent–teacher conferences. I was looking forward to seeing that light at the end of the tunnel. As a preemptive strike, I decided to get all my annual medical checkups out of the way. Suddenly, I was getting called back for the next level of mammogram and then a biopsy. I never saw breast cancer coming. Five surgeries later, I was subsequently diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism. They said, “It kills without warning.” Wow! I was too numb to be scared. Even as I write about it now, it is difficult to comprehend. I still had two surgeries to go to be clear of breast cancer, when my gall bladder gave out and I lost my father. I took two semesters off as a sign of surrender. Today, I am able to celebrate nine surgeries behind me in a 2-year period and I am cancer free! Throughout this time the Circle has been there pushing, pulling, lifting as they climbed. Today, I know that the drive and the energy I feel is a result of the energy I receive through our weekly calls. They hear me when I speak. I don’t need to yell or have a temper tantrum. They hear me. They challenge me, and they let me know that I can be successful in this—no matter how long it takes. On the eve of my proposal defense, my Sistahs facilitated a mock presentation through Google Hangout. They became my committee as I presented my slides. They gave me feedback, provided examples of their presentations, and most of all, they gave me confidence. (By the way, my official committee members’ feedback as they moved me into candidacy was, “You exceeded our expectations!”) Benefits of a community and the shared experience Womanist epistemology and duoethnography offer an ideal way to frame the narratives of firstgeneration Black female scholars who created a virtual community as a transformative safe space for peer mentorship and scholastic achievement. Although we resided in different institutions and entered academia at different times, we have shared experiences at the intersection of gender and race. We engage in a cultural call and response that help us locate ourselves in the fray of our experiences and develop a healthy reaction to what we are experiencing. We are able to talk openly about our authentic, unfiltered, and unapologetic reactions to the ambiguous and unforgiving academic environments that we participate in daily. In our virtual community, we create a narrative of counterresistance, which talked back to the perceptions of biased and deficit-based experiences. Our involvement in the ASC, grounded in womanist epistemology, helps us to transcend our experiences of racism, bullying, and negative images. The ASC helps us to collectively interrupt what can feel like personal attacks and neglect, and redirect that energy toward advancing our professional goals. A collective wisdom has developed as a result of our shared experiences. We use each other’s academic experiences as a resource for professional development. Also, we employ virtual and social media spaces to share PowerPoint presentations, journal resources, calls for papers, and applications for employment or scholarships. ASC members serve as peer reviewers on manuscripts, scholarship and grant applications, and other scholarly documents. We have seen a significant increase in our productivity and professional growth, which has led to upward mobility. For ASC members on the tenure track, our dossiers have been strengthened through collaborative peer-reviewed journal articles and professional presentations. Members have celebrated achieving academic positions (dean and assistant professor), coediting a special issue of a scholarly journal, acting as a principal investigator on funded research, and successfully defending dissertation proposals. The Sistah narratives highlight the lived experiences of the ASC members, which converge in several ways. First, each Sistah has some personal experiences (e.g., caring for a family member, single parenting, and health challenges) that require additional focus and attention. Oftentimes, JOURNAL OF SOCIAL WORK EDUCATION 29 there are limited opportunities at their home institution to discuss these issues for fear of judgement and stigma. The Circle has become the place where we could all put our issues on the table and not worry about confidentiality, a critical element of the ASC model. Second, because the Sistahs are at different levels (doctoral students, administrators, and tenure-track faculty), our individual experiences provide insight to help solve issues that each Sistah is dealing with—academic, personal, and professional. Third, each Sistah is at a different institution, which provides another level of safety and confidentiality, so members feel comfortable sharing their struggles. Last, each Sistah has a profound desire to succeed in academia, so there is a sincere commitment to participate in the ASC process. The weekly calls and accountability structure connects the Sistahs and transforms individual efforts into a community that positively changes each member for the better. Benefits of the Accountability Sistah Circle and implications for academia The personal benefits each member of the ASC have experienced have been overwhelmingly positive and wide ranging. Our weekly discussions have become the place where we recognize each other’s power, strengths, and inherent skills that may not have been as evident in other settings. The Circle also provides a validation of voice that is nonexistent in other spaces. Monzó and SooHoo (2014) advise that “the opportunity to voice our thoughts, silenced throughout history, helps us understand the structural dimension of our oppression and strategize for greater inclusion” (p. 147). Similarly, the virtual support allows ASC members to reset and reframe our experiences to understand how to better navigate the academy while providing a place to discuss our errors and solutions for future progress. Finally, the ASC is the vehicle that allows each of us to build the professional fortitude to successfully continue our paths in academia. Specifically, we presented on the ASC model and its impact at several professional conferences, and each workshop has been filled with faces and stories that reflect the narratives in this article. Additionally, one of the Sistahs used the experiences of the ASC model to inform a funded grant proposal focused on building the professional and leadership capacity of firstyear African American women in an MSW program. We acknowledge that there are policies and culture changes that administrators can implement to enhance academic climates, and we also understand that institutional change takes time. The ASC model provides an immediate, no-cost solution to exceed marginal living for minority women scholars. Through the ASC, we are able to problem solve and focus on concrete and attainable strategies to enhance our scholastic outcomes. The ASC has helped us reclaim our personal power and understand that we are more than the total sum of our unique yet uncomfortable experiences. In the Circle, we develop strategies to move through the chutes and up the ladders of academia. We embrace the lifeline this new community provides to deconstruct the complicated nexus of our institutional experiences. We recognize that some women may not have the fortitude or ability to develop a circle of community and support, so we hope this article serves as a template they can use to start their own. It is also important to note that the greatest path to success with our virtual community was based on a collective commitment to the process as well as the discipline to achieve each member’s goals. One key component was the ongoing assessment of each member to make allowances for her maturity and growth during the journey. Each person joined the Circle with different experiences and wounds that needed unique spaces and places to heal and move forward. We want this article to increase awareness and enhance the perspectives of faculty members across the academy to reduce their individual bias that may impede the progress of well-qualified Black female scholars. In addition, we want to note that there are nonminority faculty that exude unconditional support, guidance, and mentorship. For example, Sistah No. 2’s narrative indicates that her dissertation chair and other select faculty provided positive mentoring and support. Without these advocates, many minority scholars may not find success in the academy. It is necessary to recognize the role of these individuals, even though not all Sistahs had the benefit of this level of support. This disparity highlights an opportunity for faculty training on implicit bias as well as mentoring scholars across gender and race. It is common knowledge, particularly in higher education, 30 D. R. MCLANE-DAVISON ET AL. that there are significant disparities when it comes to race and gender of tenured faculty and administrators in social work programs. Opportunities exist to identify how rank and privilege can unknowingly blind faculty who may not have ill intentions but who could contribute to the better good of the institution with increased awareness of others. For the Sistahs who experienced colleagues and administrators who were discriminatory and punitive, these narratives offer insight into the realities of their difficult experiences. In addition, female scholars of color may require formal systems of accountability and professional development. Specifically, mechanisms of accountability tend to be varied, so it is crucial to identify a system that will force progress to move forward (Rockquemore & Laszloffy, 2008). Some examples of organizations that provide formal accountability and professional development for minority scholars include the Sisters of the Academy, SisterMentors, National Center for Faculty Development and Diversity, and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation’s New Connections. The advancement of the profession of social work and the progress of society have benefitted tremendously from historically Black colleges and universities (HBCU), which have prepared social work leaders for a diverse world with a commitment to growing metropolitan communities (Darrell, Littlefield, & Washington, 2016). Majority institutions may want to tap into the social capital or “the distribution and reproduction of social networks and resources” that HBCUs provide for their students and graduates (Brown & Davis, 2001, p. 40). Specifically, these climates provide environmental support so that students will become more confident and are more engaged with faculty (Davis, 1998), and undoubtedly these experiences could become bidirectional. Much of this environmental climate is based on microaffirmations, which the HBCU environment fosters by recognizing the person as an individual by their peers, faculty, and staff within an academic arena and the realization of who a person is through a positive racial identification process, all of which leads to acceptance—acceptance of oneself and of others. (Darrell et al., 2016, p. 45) In essence, HBCUs become the primary sources of social capital that foster communalism and self-esteem to help students (and faculty members) meet the rigid requirements of academia. Similar to HBCUs, majority institutions of higher education could assume a greater responsibility for grooming, guiding, and affirming African American students and faculty for greater participation in a broader society that has been exclusive, indifferent, and hostile (Brown & Davis, 2001). Conclusion The ASC model is a strategy for survival and advancement for underrepresented scholars through the ambiguous—and sometimes unwelcoming—higher education system. Akin to womanist epistemology, the ASC model is rooted in an inclusive approach, so it is applicable for men of color and gender-fluid individuals. Many social work programs have created or are developing online courses and programs, so the ASC model could be easily adopted with slight modifications. Deans and PhD program chairs are often interested in ways to balance their mission-driven goals with concrete methods to support students and faculty of color—and the ASC model could help achieve these efforts given its virtual composition. Being in a community in the academy can be an elusive proposition, especially for Black women at majority institutions. The responsibility of developing support to achieve success in the academy tends to fall on the shoulders of each individual, especially when cultural, personal, and professional needs fall outside the realm of traditional and formal university resources. The ASC model is an approach to address the individual needs of women within a virtual community for support and accountability. The summative power of the ASC allows the group to coalesce by transcending individual stories and having a safe space to disentangle personal challenges from the goals we want to achieve. Implementing the ASC model to strengthen academic communities while increasing scholarly productivity for students and faculty is paramount, especially for Black women who may find themselves living in the margins. JOURNAL OF SOCIAL WORK EDUCATION 31 Notes on contributors Denise R. McLane-Davison is Assistant Professor in the MSW Program, School of Social Work, at Morgan State University. Camille R. Quinn is Assistant Professor at The Ohio State University, College of Social Work. Kimberly Hardy is Assistant Professor at Fayetteville State University. Rhoda L. Smith is Assistant Professor at Springfield College. References Banks-Wallace, J. (2000). Womanist ways of knowing: Theoretical considerations of research with African American women. Advances in Nursing Science, 22(3), 33–45. doi:10.1097/00012272-200003000-00004. Brown, M. C., & Davis, J. E. (2001). The historically Black college as social contract, social capital, and social equalizer. 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