Over the years, I’ve worked with some exceptional leaders. I’ve also worked around a few who confused intimidation with leadership.
When people talk about workplace civility, they often imagine the big moments—the explosive meeting, the executive who loses control, or the person everyone quietly warns you about.
What I’ve learned is that hostile workplaces don’t begin there.
They begin with the small moments that everyone chooses to ignore.
Three experiences from my career still stand out.
The first happened when I was in my twenties.
I had already managed a team and had moved into a role supporting the rollout of one of the company’s most profitable product lines. It was demanding work. Long hours were normal.
One evening, while working late, I overheard two senior executives in a heated conversation. They were discussing another executive, and the language was harsh, personal, and profane. As the conversation ended, one of them said, “She can sit on it and spin.”
I froze.
I quietly gathered my things and tried to slip out unnoticed.
I wasn’t successful.
The next morning, the head of the division came to my office and apologized.
Not for what he said.
Not for how he said it.
He apologized because I heard it.
That distinction stayed with me.
Even as a young professional, I realized there was a public culture and a private culture. The apology wasn’t about respect. It was about exposure.
Twenty years later, I found myself on another executive leadership team.
One of my colleagues had a habit of raising his voice in anger. No one was immune—not even the CEO. It wasn’t considered unusual. It was simply “how he communicated.”
I made two decisions.
First, if he ever raised his voice to someone on my team, he would discover that I was perfectly capable of having difficult conversations.
Second, if he ever raised his voice at me, I would resign.
No drama.
No debate.
No second chances.
In fact, I kept a letter of resignation in my padfolio and updated it regularly.
Eventually, he yelled at a member of my team.
I calmly walked into his office, closed the door, and addressed it directly.
Then, as I expected might happen one day, he yelled at me.
That month, I submitted my resignation.
People sometimes ask why.
Because every leader teaches people how they deserve to be treated.
That includes ourselves.
The third experience was different.
Another senior executive.
Another organization.
Another reputation for explosive outbursts.
This time, people explained it away by telling me he had a personality disorder.
Maybe he did.
I actually liked him.
A lot.
But here’s what I’ve never believed:
Understanding someone’s behavior is not the same as excusing it.
Compassion should never require everyone else to absorb the damage.
So I had a conversation with him before there was ever a problem.
I told him my boundary.
Interestingly, he respected it.
He yelled around me.
He yelled around my team.
He never yelled at us.
What do these three stories have in common?
None of them started with screaming.
They started with smaller behaviors that became accepted.
Someone rolled their eyes.
Someone interrupted.
Someone humiliated another employee in a meeting.
Someone made disrespect part of the culture.
Someone excused it because the person was brilliant.
Someone ignored it because they produced results.
Someone decided confronting it would be uncomfortable.
And one day, the organization wakes up and wonders why people are anxious, disengaged, afraid to speak up, and quietly updating their résumés.
Hostile workplaces don’t suddenly appear.
They’re built one ignored act of incivility at a time.
Workplace civility isn’t about being nice.
It’s about creating an environment where people can disagree, debate, challenge one another, and still treat each other with dignity.
High expectations are not hostile.
Accountability is not hostile.
Disagreement is not hostile.
Humiliation is.
Intimidation is.
Belittling people is.
Leadership by fear is.
If you’re a leader, here are three questions worth asking yourself:
• What behaviors have become “normal” on my team simply because they’ve gone unchallenged?
• Do people feel safe disagreeing with me without fearing embarrassment or retaliation?
• Am I rewarding results while overlooking the behaviors used to achieve them?
Culture isn’t defined by the values framed on the wall.
It’s defined by the behavior leaders are willing to tolerate.
Ignore disrespect long enough, and eventually disrespect becomes your culture.

​

​I don’t usually dive into pop culture, but when it collides with politics and bigotry, I can’t resist.

Case in point: American Eagle’s “good jeans” ad with Sydney Sweeney. Trump called her MAGA’s sweetheart, white supremacists rejoiced, and honestly, I ignored it—it was just a watered-down rip-off of Brooke Shields’ Calvin Klein ads from my youth.

Then Megyn Kelly lost her mind over Beyoncé wearing similar jeans and a Marilyn Monroe–style platinum bob. She called Beyoncé “fake,” but it wasn’t just the insult—it was the venom. And that’s when it hit me: they’re mad that Beyoncé, a country girl from Houston, made a country album. They hate her. But why?

Here’s why:

What’s real about Beyoncé is her $800 million net worth. Her summer tour packed 43,000–47,000 people a night, grossing over $400 million—the highest-grossing “country” tour in history. She won Best Album for Cowboy Carter and CMA Country Singer of the Year. That’s why you’re mad.

What’s real about Beyoncé is her $3.2 billion husband, $2.8 billion of which is in business holdings like Uber. He owns the most successful production company in the world, produces the Super Bowl halftime show every year since 2019, and his Shawn Carter Foundation—run by his mom—raises $150 million annually. That’s why you’re mad.

What’s real about Beyoncé is that each of her children started life with $500 million in assets. Managed wisely, they’ll be billionaires before 18. Blue Ivy is already acclaimed for The Lion King, excels in school, speaks multiple languages, and is learning the family business. That’s why you’re mad.

What’s real about Beyoncé is her family’s success didn’t start with fame—her father was a Xerox executive (net worth $50M), her mother a thriving entrepreneur ($25M). Her sister Solange ($5M), nephew Julez ($1M), cousin Angela ($10M), and adopted sister Kelly Rowland ($12M) are all thriving. That’s why you’re mad.

What’s real about Beyoncé is her husband kept his promise to build a dynasty—one of the richest Black families in America, worth nearly $6 billion, more than the Trumps. He discovered Kanye West and Rihanna before becoming a rap icon himself. That’s why you’re mad.

So why are you losing sleep? Beyoncé is living her life while you make yours talking about it. She has more political influence in a single song than you’ll have in a lifetime of commentary. Read the lyrics, darling—there’s a message there.

Stay mad. Even her haters put money in her pockets. Remember that the next time you call an Uber or order Uber Eats.

You can follow me on Facebook at Frankly Speaking with Adrienne P. Whitaker

​Donald Trump has launched a full-on crusade against Harvard—and it’s giving major ex-boyfriend who never got over the breakup energy. So what did Harvard do to earn a spot on Trump’s enemies list?

Hmmmm. The answer may lie not in Harvard’s hallowed halls, but in where young Barron Trump has spent his freshman year. Wait for it… NYU.

That’s right. Not Harvard. Not Yale. Not even Dartmouth (which technically counts). The 6’7” Trump heir is navigating college life somewhere between Greenwich Village and a $19 chopped salad, instead of an Ivy League quad.

Now that doesn’t quite match the MAGA narrative of Trump F-34, the one who endlessly name-drops his own Ivy League education. Donald has often reminded us that he attended the very prestigious Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania. What he tends to leave out is that he transferred to Penn in his junior year—right after his father dropped a seven-figure “donation.” Call it strategic generosity, or buying your kid an Ivy League education.  Dare I say, “privilege.”

But hey, let’s not split hairs. Trump did graduate from UPenn. Even if it’s rumored his sister did his coursework. Oops—there I go again.

Still, irony and hypocrisy abounds when you consider Trump’s past obsession with Barack Obama’s academic record. Remember when he spent years demanding to see Obama’s college transcripts, questioning whether he was “smart enough” to get into Columbia and Harvard Law? Of course, Obama not only got in—he graduated with honors and was President of the Harvard Law Review.

Meanwhile, there’s no public record of Donald Trump ever participating in, well… anything at UPenn. No clubs, no awards, no test scores, no GPA. Just his constant boasting.

Michelle Obama? She continued her family’s Ivy League tradition, graduating magna cum laude from Princeton, then Harvard Law. Her brother, a star athlete, graduated from Princeton too. And Malia Obama? Yep—Harvard alum.

So what gives with Barron?

Why didn’t Trump’s youngest follow the gilded Ivy path, like his siblings (Tiffany and Don Jr. graduated from UPenn, while Ivanka and Eric went to Georgetown)? Why NYU, a respected school but not exactly in the Ivy League zip code? Not even close.

Could this be the real source of Trump’s Ivy League angst? Could it be that Barron—despite the family name, wealth, and access—simply didn’t get in? That no check was big enough, no legacy strong enough, no admission office impressed enough?

It might explain why Trump is now raging against DEI, accusing Ivy League schools of “wokeness,” and trying to dismantle the very institutions he once bragged about. Is this less a culture war and more of a personal vendetta?

In the end, this may not be about Harvard. It may be about rejection—and the one thing Donald Trump has never been able to buy: a seat at the smart kids’ table.

So, Donald… here’s the deal: Those of us who earned our way into Ivy League classrooms—old Ivies, new Ivies, public Ivies—we just might be smarter than your kid. And let’s be honest… we’re smarter than you, too.

There. I said it

Coming soon are my two books: Co-authored with Ditu Kasuyi is The Excellence Blueprint: A Strategic Guide for Afrian American Leaders to Rise, Thrive and Lead with Legacy. It drops this summer.

And, later this year, my book inspired by my family drops, Under the Banyan Tree: A Family’s Legacy of Resistance, Freedom, and Perseverance.

Permission to share but not cut and paste.

Trump F-34 Is a Health Hazard—And I Have the Anxiety Attack to Prove It.  Last night I fell asleep with the TV on. At some point, the news crept into my subconscious, looping stories about Trump’s tariffs against our (former?) allies in the EU, his escalating war against Harvard, and Putin’s bombs raining down on Ukrainian cities.

The remote control was downstairs—too far, too late (who gets up and turns off the TV without the remote?).  So there I was, trapped in bed, listening. As my internal alarm urged me to wake up, the physical symptoms hit. Racing heart. Shallow breath. Splitting headache. A full-blown anxiety attack.

Trump F-34 is bad for my health. Actually, he is a public health crisis.

This morning I couldn’t stop thinking about the 7,000 international students at Harvard—some of the brightest young minds on the planet—suspended in limbo. What message are we sending to these future world leaders about who we are? About what kind of nation we want to be?

And then there’s the billions in halted federal research grants. What happens to innovation? To the discoveries and breakthroughs that could cure diseases, tackle climate change, and keep us globally competitive?

And don’t get me started on Ukraine. The same man who gave Putin a wink and a nod now wants us to believe he’s shocked by war crimes? Civilians are dying. This isn’t a movie. It’s not a drill. And the drumbeat of WWIII sounds louder every day.

So here I am—wondering how many of us are silently suffering.
How many of us are losing sleep, peace of mind, and physical well-being because of Trump F-34? Because of the chaos? The cruelty? The constant crisis?

We need to name this: political trauma is real.
He may have only been in office three months, but our bodies already know it’s too much.

So what do we do? How do we protect our mental and physical health? Here are a few things that helped me this morning:

1. TURN OFF THE NOISE.
Literally. Unplug. Mute the chaos. Choose when and how you engage with news—not when it hijacks your subconscious at 3 AM.

2. BREATHE. MOVE. STRETCH.
Your body remembers peace, even when your mind forgets. Gentle movement and deep breathing are first-line defenses against panic and anxiety. I focused on breathing and did some stretching exercises.

3. SIP SOMETHING SOOTHING.
Warm, non-caffeinated tea with honey and milk is my “go to”. It’s simple, grounding, and nurturing. A soft moment in a hard world.

4. ENGAGE YOUR SENSES.
Aromatherapy, candlelight, or a soft playlist—whatever brings you back to your center. Use your senses to reset. I turned on my candle warmer my friend Janet gave me for Christmas.

5. CHOOSE PEACE.
Even if the world is on fire, you can carve out peace. Sit. Be still. Listen inward. Let that be your foundation.

But let’s be real: self-care is not a substitute for civic action.
I’m still angry. And the only way to truly heal is to fight complacency. I refuse to sit on my tail for four years. If we want peace, justice, and sanity, we’ve got to show up and demand it.

So here’s my final question: Am I alone? Or are you feeling it too?
Let’s talk about the Trump Impact. Not in abstract terms, but in lived experiences—in the toll it’s taking on our health, minds, and communities.  May is Mental Health Month and this man is causing a mental health pandemic.

Because he may not believe in science, but I guarantee science will one day study the trauma his leadership inflicted on a nation. 

Until then, protect your peace and raise your voice. 

Permission to share but not cut and paste.

Coming soon are my two books: Co-authored with Ditu Kasuyi is The Excellence Blueprint: A Strategic Guide for Afrian American Leaders to Rise, Thrive and Lead with Legacy. It drops this summer.

And, later this year, my book inspired by my family drops, Under the Banyan Tree: A Family’s Legacy of Resistance, Freedom, and Perseverance. 

​Where Are the Courageous Leaders?

Today, I listened to Kamala Harris’ speech at the Leading Women Defined Summit.  Don't, worry, this isn't a political post. It is about two sentences she said.  “Fear is courageous. And so is courage.”

That struck a chord.

Because fear is everywhere right now. People are afraid of backlash, afraid of disruption, afraid of saying the wrong thing or taking the wrong stand. But fear, as Harris reminds us, is not weakness. It’s human. And facing it? That’s where true leadership begins.

What we’re seeing today is a crisis of courage. And it’s not limited to any one party, sector, or institution. Across the board—in government, business, philanthropy, higher education, the nonprofit world—we are watching some leaders do nothing, say nothing, and hope that the storm passes.

That is not a plan. It is complicity dressed in caution. And that is not leadership.

So the question is: Where are the courageous leaders?

Some are still showing up. Here are a few, across sectors, who are speaking up, pushing forward, holding the line.

Public Sector:
 • Lisa Murkowski (Senator) has demonstrated that she is willing to be a lone voice for what matters to her including women’s health and funding to address the murdered and missing Indigenous people..
 • Gretchen Whitmer (Michigan Governor): Consistently speaks with moral clarity on extremism and equity.
 • Wes Moore (Maryland Governor): A veteran and business leader turned public servant who centers inclusion and courage in leadership.

Private Sector:
 • Darren Walker (Ford Foundation): One of the few in philanthropy who openly challenges capitalist structures while working within them.
 • Marc Benioff (Salesforce): Has spoken out for democracy and taken business stands on equity, even when it’s cost him.
 • Rosalind Brewer (formerly Walgreens CEO): Took bold stances on racial equity in corporate America and paid a price for that courage.

Social Sector:
 • Tarana Burke (MeToo Movement): Keeps lifting up the voices we want to ignore.
 • Ai-jen Poo (National Domestic Workers Alliance): Advocating for workers left out of the traditional systems of power.

But where is everyone else?

Courage doesn’t only belong to those with microphones or media coverage. It belongs to superintendents, CEOs, pastors, board chairs, and budget directors. It belongs to culture-shapers in every boardroom and breakroom. It belongs to each of us. It belongs to me…and you.

And maybe that’s the deeper call of this moment—not just to look for courageous leadership, but to be it.

History will not ask whether we were perfect. It will ask whether we were principled. Whether we stood up or stayed seated. Whether we chose to lead when it mattered most.

So let me ask you: Where do you stand? And who are you standing for?

Because hiding is not an option. And silence is not leadership.

Visit my website: http://www.l2lleadershipinstitute.com

I hadn’t planned on posting today—I’m in the middle of an incredible conference, soaking up insights and inspiration. But then I stumbled across a jaw-droppingly ridiculous question on Facebook: “When have conservatives rioted, looted, burned buildings, or murdered people?”

Now, before I dive in, let me be clear: the post was framed in defense of gun ownership. So for the record, I’ve never lived in a household without a firearm. My father was in the Air Force, my ex-husband was a police officer, my mother always had her own gun, and I grew up on the range doing target practice. I am, unapologetically, a pro-gun liberal.

Now, let’s get back to that question.

To pose such a question is either a test of intellectual honesty or a willful erasure of history. Either way, it demands a serious and informed response. So allow me, with all the elitist credentials of my Ivy League education, to oblige. 😆 

Let’s start with the most recent and glaring example: January 6, 2021. On that day, a violent mob of self-identified conservatives stormed the U.S. Capitol in an unprecedented act of domestic terrorism. They did not come to protest—they came to overturn the outcome of a lawful election. They beat police officers with flagpoles, erected gallows, ransacked offices, and shouted for the lynching of elected officials. Seven people died as a result of the attack, including Capitol Police Officer Brian D. Sicknick, who suffered fatal strokes after being assaulted.

But this was not the first time violence was used in the name of conservative ideology. The idea that violence has only occurred on one side of the political spectrum is not just false—it’s dangerously ignorant. The historical record is overflowing with examples of white conservative mobs, militias, vigilantes, and state actors who rioted, looted, burned cities and homes, lynched and murdered thousands—often in broad daylight and with the blessing, or blind eye, of the government.

Here are just a few of the many irrefutable examples:
 • Fort Pillow Massacre (1864): Confederate soldiers slaughtered surrendering Black Union troops.
 • Sand Creek Massacre (1864): U.S. troops killed over 230 Cheyenne and Arapaho people, mostly women and children.
 • Memphis and New Orleans Massacres (1866): White mobs murdered Black Union veterans and civilians.
 • Colfax Massacre (1873): A white militia killed over 150 Black defenders of Reconstruction government.
 • Wilmington Coup (1898): White supremacists overthrew a duly elected multiracial city government, killing dozens of Black citizens.
 • Tulsa Race Massacre (1921): Greenwood—known as “Black Wall Street”—was obliterated by white mobs. As many as 300 Black residents were murdered, and 10,000 were left homeless.
 • Rosewood Massacre (1923): A Black community in Florida was destroyed by white mobs, with unknown numbers of dead.
 • Zoot Suit Riots (1943): U.S. servicemen attacked Mexican American youths in Los Angeles while police arrested the victims.
 • Ocoee Massacre (1920): A Black man attempted to vote. The result? Dozens of Black residents were slaughtered and their homes razed.

These are not isolated incidents. They are chapters in a centuries-long chronicle of racially and politically motivated violence—often carried out or condoned by conservatives defending white supremacy, property over people, and power over democracy.

Even in the 20th century, from Detroit (1967) to East St. Louis (1917), to Chicago (1919), violence erupted not because Black people rioted—but because they dared to live, vote, work, and exist with dignity in a country that codified their oppression.

So yes, conservatives have rioted. They’ve looted. They’ve burned entire towns. They’ve murdered children, elders, and freedom fighters. And they’ve often done it not in secret, but with cheers and Confederate flags waving in the wind.

So…to the person who asked the ridiculous question, let us be honest: history is not neutral. And neither is this question. But if you ask it, expect an answer grounded in truth—not sanitized, not polite, but necessary.

History remembers. And so do we.

Stay tuned for my book, Beneath the Bayan Tree: A Family’s Legacy of Resistance, Freedom, and Perseverance.

Virginia Republicans Embrace DEI! 

At least that is the heading in my head. 

Virginia Republicans have locked in the most diverse statewide ticket in Commonwealth history, featuring three barrier-breaking nominees: Winsome Earle-Sears, the first Black woman to secure a major party’s gubernatorial nomination; John Reid, the first openly gay person nominated for statewide office in Virginia’s history; and Jason Miyares, Virginia’s first Latino Attorney General running for re-election. Despite sharp policy differences, none of these nominees carries any credible ethics or character controversies—underscoring that diversity and integrity can go hand in hand. This historic slate also reflects a broader truth: political affiliations do not define monolithic viewpoints, and meaningful dialogue across ideological lines remains possible. As the Democrats prepare to unveil their equally diverse ticket—headed by former Rep. Abigail Spanberger, poised to become Virginia’s first woman governor—our Commonwealth once again leads the nation in inclusive representation (reminds me of the good ole days of Gerald L. Baliles, Doug Wilder, and Mary-Sue Terry. 

But what does this really mean? 

Virginia’s Historic GOP Ticket
 • Virginia’s Republican ticket for the 2025 statewide elections features unprecedented diversity and inclusivity, marking a another milestone in the Commonwealth’s political history.
 • Governor: Lt. Gov. Winsome Earle-Sears will be the GOP nominee, becoming the first Black woman in Virginia to achieve this distinction.
 • Lieutenant Governor: Conservative talk-radio host John Reid ran unopposed after his only primary rival withdrew, making him the first openly gay nominee for any statewide office in Virginia.
 • Attorney General: Incumbent Jason Miyares, the first Latino to hold Virginia’s attorney general post, is up for re-election—all without any notable ethics or character issues.

Beyond Policy: Integrity and Perspective

Although I strongly disagree with much of the Republican platform, there is no evidence that any nominee faces moral, ethical, or character-related controversies—an impressive feat for such high-profile figures.
This slate resonates with my own diverse network: I count Republicans among my closest friends, and we engage in candid, respectful debate—proof that no demographic group is monolithic. Someone dares to call me a moderate, and I clutched my pearls.

A Counterpoint to National Culture Wars

While the current administration in Washington, D.C., aggressively dismantles diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts, Virginia demonstrates the opposite in practice: the most qualified candidates—regardless of race, gender, or orientation—are given a fair shot at leadership.

Looking Ahead: Bipartisan Momentum
 • In just a few weeks, the Democratic Party will announce its nominees, and diversity will again headline their ticket. Former Rep. Abigail Spanberger, a white woman, is on track to become Virginia’s first female governor.
 • With both parties presenting groundbreaking tickets, Virginia is poised to lead the nation once more in inclusive governance—and I, for one, am ready for it. Hey, in Virginia we may even split the decision….we have done it before. 

We know one thing for sure. Virginia is making history in November…and it is progressive history! 

And yet..I make no secrets who I am voting for because I vote according to who most aligns with my values, my interests, my community and my life. For me, the choice is clear.

​“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”  We’ve all heard some version of this quote. But I’ve been thinking: is it really about remembering history—or understanding it?  I think it is the latter. 

Let’s take Adolf Hitler, for example. Most people can tell you he was a dictator responsible for the Holocaust. But fewer understand how he rose to power—or that he was never actually elected by the German people. Hell, most don't even know how many people were murdered in the Holocaust (it was 70-85 million people. I had to look it up.)

So, if Hitler wasn't elected, how did he gain power?  On January 30, 1933, Hitler was appointed Chancellor by President Paul von Hindenburg. Weeks later, after the suspicious Reichstag fire, Hitler used fear of a socialist uprising to push through the “Decree for the Protection of People and State,” which suspended civil liberties and enabled surveillance, property seizures, and arrests—primarily targeting political opponents. Hmmm, that was basically an executive order, right?

By March, the Reichstag passed the Enabling Act, giving Hitler full legislative powers and dismantling democracy in Germany. After Hindenburg died in 1934, Hitler declared himself Führer. Hmmm, that sounds similar to the U.S. Supreme Court giving a president immunity, doesn't it? 

So how did a nation fall to tyranny? Not through majority support—but through fear, manipulation, executive orders, and most chillingly, silence. A small, organized minority carried out Hitler’s vision while the majority watched, waited, or turned away. In other words, they were asleep. They were not… woke.

That’s the real lesson.

History doesn’t repeat itself because we forget—it repeats when we fail to truly understand and act on what it teaches us. We neglect to recognize when it is repeating. And good people remain asleep.

Today, the American people did not vote to challenge the Constitution or defy a Supreme Court ruling. They didn’t vote for that—just as the German people did not choose to be ruled by a dictator.

In a time when democracy, justice, and human rights are being tested around the world, this moment calls for courage, clarity, and collective action. And yes, it calls for true wokeness.

Silence is not neutrality. It’s complicity.

Permission to share but not cut and paste. 

Follow me at Frankly Speaking with Adrenne P. Whitaker. Check out my new blog at: http://www.l2lleadershipinstitute.com/frankly-speaking-blog

And, stay tuned for my book: Beneath the Bayan Tree: A Family’s Legacy of Resistance, Freedom, Preserversnce.

@highlight