The housing brain drain

If you are a senior white manager reading this story, a key message is that just because no one has ever raised an issue of racism with you, this does not mean it is not happening. Few of the people Inside Housing spoke to for this story said they had ever made any official report of discrimination, or that they felt passed over for jobs.

“I have never once formally spoken up against racism. I never thought I would be believed,” one woman tells us. “My solution to it has always been to move on. People move on because they get to a point where you think I don’t want to live with this level of indignity, and lack of respect.”

“I was the only person from a minority background. I was headhunted [to work in the private sector]; I didn’t think twice”

She continues: “I have never known a minority raise an issue about behaviour or discrimination with their manager and it being dealt with – it always led to the minority being exited and branded a troublemaker.” These are the words of someone who has now left to take on a chief executive role in another sector.

Another interviewee, who worked in a back-office job at a housing association, has a similar story. “When you put in a lot of time and effort and are quite passionate about something, and then people don’t believe in you and don’t treat you well, it puts you off. It knocks your confidence; you don’t feel confident,” he says.

“I was the only person from a minority background. I was headhunted [to work in the private sector]; I didn’t think twice.”

Speaking of his new employer, he says simply: “It’s much more diverse – they look after you.”

So what exactly is happening at social landlords to cause such a brain drain of their BME staff?

Most common is indirect discrimination. What does that look like? It can be subtle. Many interviewees – particularly women – told us of attending an external meeting, and people assuming that their junior white male staff were in fact the senior staff members. Another common example is when someone makes a point in a meeting, and it is ignored. Then a white person repeats the same point, and they are congratulated for it.

One Black woman who has worked across many housing associations and councils recalls how she got a new manager, who was a white woman.

“She was always phoning to check where I am, but not phoning up my white counterpart. It starts to make you feel paranoid. It did make me feel undervalued,” she says. Although some may perceive these situations as relatively small, they do add up to create a negative impression of the employer.

It does not go unnoticed that people of colour are not being promoted at the same rate as their white colleagues.

“I’ve won a few awards. When I’ve got to the awards, I’ve gone into that room. There are 500 people in the room and three Black people,” notes one woman who used to work in homelessness, and now has moved to the private sector.

Another interviewee tells us: “I’m very conscious of senior Black people I know who have been consigned to the wilderness, not being considered able enough to lead the bigger organisations. I decided to leave the sector to become my own boss.”

One person who has now moved into a leadership role outside of housing says: “When I joined the sector in the early 90s, there were quite a lot of us. Twenty years later they had all somehow been exited or left. I personally did well – I progressed. But I didn’t expect to be a minority for that long – I expected there to be more.

“I’m very conscious of senior Black people I know who have been consigned to the wilderness, not being considered able enough to lead the bigger organisations. I decided to leave the sector to become my own boss”

“Every single person of colour that I interacted with had some very difficult stories to tell. I would hear over and over again of opportunities not being given. Someone has left or gone on maternity leave, the next obvious person on that team [is BME], [but] they would almost never be given the job – it would immediately go to advert, and of course it always made it more difficult to rise. Over and over again [white] people would be given those opportunities – they would be allowed to act up, or just given the job.”

Another Black, female former housing professional, who is still looking to work in the sector in housing management, says: “It was hard to get to a senior level – I got in but as short contracts. They recruit you, but on a short-term level. I didn’t get the opportunity to apply for any permanent roles. I found it was quite frustrating. I have been actively looking for permanent roles.”

Some of the people Inside Housing spoke to for this story had been on interview panels and observed unconscious bias influencing decisions on who to hire or promote.

“I’ve sat on some interview panels. I’ve walked out of one or two of them because of the manner in which people are looked at and chosen,” one woman tells us. “People start talking about ‘fit’.”

Another Black woman who used to work in housing says: “I was dealing with the recruitment side and I was on the panel, and there was an Asian man who came in, and he wasn’t looking eye to eye. The head of service said, ‘He hasn’t got interpersonal skills.’ Everyone’s got a different culture. It might be [considered] a bit too rude if you are staring.”