If you haven’t checked out Paradise on Hulu yet, then proceed with caution for the rest of this post because spoilers are on the way!
Starring Sterling K. Brown as secret service Agent Xavier Collins, who works directly with the president, we quickly discover that this world— and the people running it— aren’t what they seem. When the president is suddenly found dead, Agent Collins sets off on a mission to find out who did it, only to discover that the paradise he’s living in is anything but.
While I’m deeply anti-militaristic and know that law enforcement is the ultimate and violent upholder of White Supremacy Culture, there are a few overarching themes and lessons from the show that can be applied to the work I do as a DEI practitioner and executive coach for women of color:
Race/Representation:
As you make your way through the entire first season, it’s easy to question: where are all the Black and Brown people? With the exception of Agent Xavier Collins and his children, and Agent Nicole Robinson, we see few Black faces.
The show raises an important distinction that has been missed in recent years of advancing DEI and movement building for Black and Brown folks: representation matters little when a power structure is faulty and built on tenets of White Supremacy Culture.
This isn’t to suggest that it isn’t worth it for Black and Brown folks, and women in particular, to have a seat at the table in spaces that have historically and systematically excluded and oppressed them. But what does that representation matter when once said Black and Brown women assume their posts, they’ll be expected to uphold the same values that kept them locked out for so long?
In the penultimate episode of the season (episode 7) where we finally see a flashback of the catastrophic day a world-ending tsunami hit, there’s a moment where Agent Robinson shoots and kills a young Secret Service agent who’s new on the job right on the White House lawn as a select group of White House staff flee for Paradise (leaving the rest behind, who only found out just minutes ago that the world was ending). She then barks out orders to Agent Collins to do his job and get on the helicopter.
The logic of representation would have us celebrate Robinson for holding it down as the sole Black woman leading security and intelligence for a new society, but a more thoughtful take helps us realize that she is no more powerful in that position than she would be without it because her primary responsibility is to protect the interests of the billionaire ruling class who created the new underground city.
If DEI is going to survive the authoritarian, late-stage capitalism era we’re in now, it will take expanding our concept of and relationships with power. Black and Brown faces in high places aren’t always a signal of progress. True change is creating the foundation for Black & Brown women to show up as their true selves on the job, and challenge and transform the power structures that prevented them from getting there in the first place.
Violence:
There may not be any physical violence or weapons in Paradise (at least at its start), but the lack of it draws into question what violence truly is.
Just because there is an absence of someone laying their hands on you does not mean that their actions are any less striking or painful. The violence of Paradise is built into its very core and structure— just as it is in the actual United States and in corporate America.
Micro and macro aggressions are extensions of violence.
Racist, misogynistic, and toxic management are extensions of violence.
Policies, practices, and procedures that single out women of color are extensions of violence.
Managers who belittle and verbally berate the women of color on their teams also show violence in their actions.
What makes those actions extensions of violent behavior is what they can ultimately lead to, and what they suggest its perpetrator believes about the person they’re harming. And in corporate America, those extensions are used to keep order and prevent any challenges to its power structure.
The puppet master behind the underground city, Sinatra, is a perfect example of this. She may not have started out as a murderer or was an actual assassin in Paradise, but she sure enough pulled the strings to ensure that “peace” was kept in the city she built on the backs of Black and Brown immigrants.
When we willingly go about upholding power structures and the false sense of peace they bring, we become complicit. In practice, this can look like managers replicating toxic workstyles that come from the top of an organization, or going along with practices that are clearly harmful to the women of color on their team.
Corporate America is not always the paradise it seems. And for women of color, it can take a toll on their mental and physical health attempting to fit into its rigid power structure. If you’re a company that’s ready to make a change or a woman of color seeking support, schedule a consultation with me today.
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