Inweekly 2011:Pensacola’s Black Exodus

The Loss of a Professional Class
By Scott Satterwhite

“If there were opportunities for me, I would love to return to Pensacola,” said LaRuby May, an African-American lawyer now living in Washington, D.C.

May was born and raised in Pensacola and left her hometown to go to Eckerd College in St. Petersburg, Fla. After Eckerd, May continued her education at George Washington University in D.C. and Villanova University outside of Philadelphia. Despite strong family connections in this area, May does not see herself returning to Pensacola.

“I would appreciate the opportunity to serve the community which helped me to become the person that I am,” said May. “But I am also practical and understand that I have greater access to resources away from Pensacola than I do in Pensacola.”

A New Migration
Pensacola has long had a problem retaining its young professionals. Citing a multitude of factors such as economic prospects, educational opportunities, cultural interests, and post-hurricane housing issues, the upwardly mobile have often seen greener pastures in larger cities. This is particularly true within the African-American community. While the exodus of talent spans multiple sectors of the population, the loss may be felt deepest within Pensacola’s African American-community.

While the overall U.S. economy and the continuing reverberations from recent hurricanes certainly play a strong part in the exodus phenomenon, historic factors such as racial disparity appear to be a stronger factor in this recent wave of black migration from Pensacola. Racism creates its own hurdles for the rise of the young black professional. Despite the gains of the Civil Rights Era and the election of the first African-American president, obstacles still exist for even the most educated African Americans. According to the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies, 81 percent of all black professionals think that racism not only exists in the workplace, but that it is common.

That less than 20 percent of African-American professionals feel that the worksite is a place for equality between the races points to a problem. These feelings of inequality may be more pronounced in sections of the country that historically have had racial problems, such as Pensacola.

“I honestly feel that living in Pensacola made the obstacles harder from [the perspective of] an African-American male,” said Pensacola native Rodney Carter.
Carter was born and raised in Pensacola, graduated from Booker T. Washington High School and left Pensacola to go to college. He earned his bachelor’s degree from Florida Memorial University and his master’s degree from St. Thomas University. Both universities are in Miami Gardens. Carter currently directs student activities at Florida Memorial.

“I honestly wanted to stay in Pensacola and help my city flourish,” said Carter. The problem for Carter was a common one for many black professionals: the lack of opportunity. Carter stated that there were few options in his chosen field that he felt would be good for his career.

“Either you’re a coach, community center director or an athletic director,” he said. For Carter, none of these jobs were attractive, so he left Pensacola permanently.

“It truly hurts me to say that my hometown has a very big problem with racism that can’t be overlooked anymore.”

Historical Context
Pensacola has historically had its ups and downs related to issues of racial disparity. Slavery was the norm in Pensacola before the Civil War. Although the city had a large free black population, there existed a much larger enslaved population that worked to build many of the 19th-century landmarks of Pensacola’s past, such as Fort Barrancas and Fort Pickens.

After the war, Pensacola saw unprecedented gains by its recently emancipated population. During this time frame, Pensacola had several black politicians serving in various capacities, from constable, city alderman, and even one African-American mayor.

Although these gains were rolled back with the 1884 election of Gov. Edward Perry, Pensacola still maintained a large black professional and working class. The development of this new class of black doctors, lawyers, writers and printers was aided by the city’s close proximity to Tuskegee University, founded by famed intellectual and former slave Booker T. Washington.

As a testament to this community, Washington even devoted a chapter in one of his books to Pensacola. He praised the city’s strong “Negro business community” as proof of the post-Civil War gains for blacks in the South.
Census records shows that Pensacola was majority black by the turn of the century.  However, with the intrusion of Florida’s Jim Crow laws into the lives of blacks and the subsequent lynching of at least five African-American men between 1899 and 1912, nearly all political power in the African-American community had been drastically eroded by the next census. The percentage of African Americans in Pensacola was cut in half by 1920.

Though the professional class that remained stayed strong during the Jim Crow years, many other black Pensacolians left the South for less racially intense environments elsewhere.  This was not unique to Pensacola but happened throughout the South. Thousands of African Americans took the rise in racial violence and the lack of political enfranchisement in the South as a sign that they may have a better chance at success—and survival—in the North or out west. The move by blacks from the South to Northern cities is known as the Great Migration.

The Migration of a Professional Class
Recent years have seen a reversal in this trend. Civil rights legislation and a friendlier racial climate have made the South more attractive to African Americans looking for career prospects in the 21st century.
For the first time in generations, more African Americans are moving to the South than leaving. Florida is listed among the states that have had a substantial growth in their African-American population, according to an article published last month by the Associated Press.

Despite this trend, Pensacola is seen by some African Americans as a less-than appealing option for relocation. Often dubbed the “Black Mecca,” Atlanta has become one of the major destinations for African-American professionals from around the country as well as from Pensacola.

Keisha Nelson currently resides in Atlanta but calls Pensacola home. A graduate of Booker T. Washington High School, Nelson worked in the Pensacola area for some time before leaving to attend college at Georgia State. Nelson holds a master’s degree in computer sciences and currently works for a major corporation in Atlanta as an IT specialist and training manager.

Nelson said that the best job she could get before leaving Pensacola was at a frozen yogurt shop.

“There simply weren’t any opportunities in Pensacola for jobs that paid higher than minimum wage, and I knew that there more jobs available outside of the city,” said Nelson.
With hopes of using the G.I. Bill to pay for college, Nelson joined the Army Reserves. She used the opportunity to leave Pensacola.

“I was just grabbing at straws trying to find something,” she said. “My thought was that I would have to leave Pensacola if I wanted to survive.”
Nelson worked consistently in Atlanta for several years until the most recent economic collapse.

“In March of 2010, I was briefly laid off from my job in Atlanta,” said Nelson. This development and her mother’s health led Nelson to consider returning to her hometown.
“I thought about coming home, and I interviewed with two companies here,” said Nelson. However, when she was finally offered a job, the pay was 54 percent less than what she has earned in Atlanta.

“The salaries were so drastically different, it just didn’t make sense to relocate.”

The pay difference between Pensacola and Atlanta wasn’t the only sticking point for Nelson. She was also troubled by the local mindset and perceptions of racism in the local workforce.
To explain, Nelson related a story. Nelson said that she has a close friend “who has a degree in business and worked professionally in Atlanta.” When the friend came to Pensacola to look for work, she received few offers of employment.

“The only job she was offered paid $8.50 an hour, just barely above minimum wage,” Nelson said.

Although Nelson admits this may just be a reflection of the economy, she added that the person who offered her friend the job did something strange.

“This person looked her up and down and said, ‘I know exactly where we can put you.’” Nelson’s friend’s new job was to supervise six other African Americans in a company that had several white employees.

“It wasn’t even the job that she applied for,” said Nelson. “This is an African American woman with a degree in business. Now she is working in Pensacola for minimum wage—and then only hired to supervise other African Americans.”
Nelson added that the lack of opportunity prevents people from coming back to Pensacola after earning a degree. “Because if they come back, not only will they have to work two or three jobs to survive, but then they have to deal with the type of biased employers that would tell a professional, ‘I know exactly where we can put you.’”

Carter, the student activities director, had similar experiences with the lack of opportunity. His family still resides in Pensacola, and he said that Pensacola has “a major problem with giving the opportunities to African Americans who meet all the requirements [for employment].”

The disparity in pay and equal opportunity in the hiring process–or the perception of both–have the potential to repel Pensacola’s black professionals from returning to their hometown.

“With bigger cities, there are better pay scales and more opportunities,” said Carter. “Within my profession, there aren’t many opportunities [in Pensacola] that have a good pay.”

Discrimination in the Workplace—Overt and Covert
The era since the election of Barack Obama has been heralded as “post-racial.” However, federal statistics on discrimination paint a much different picture. Instances of legal discrimination are often difficult to quantify but apparently are still common.

The Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) reported more than 35,000 claims of discrimination in 2010 alone. A recent study sponsored by the EEOC of over 200,000 large and midsize companies found that African-American professionals nationwide have a 30 percent chance of being discriminated against in the workforce. In the past decade, discrimination lawsuit payouts within Fortune 500 companies have gone as high as $192 million.
In a 2007 racial discrimination study by the EEOC, Dr. Marc Benedick wrote that some workplaces operate with an “underlying corporate culture [that] includes conscious racist attitudes and perception [as well as] deliberate adoption of policies” that put employees of color at a disadvantage. Even in the 21st-century corporate workplace, Benedick stated that “virulent racism is not dead.”

“Whether the causes are conscious or unconscious, active or passive,” Dr. Benedick wrote in the study, “the point is that the complained-about actions are typically neither isolated nor accidental. They are rooted in an employer world view and normal operating procedures reflecting that world view.”

Small Town Mindset
There remain perceptions that African Americans don’t belong in certain segments of society. Nelson blames the older generation, both white and black, for perpetuating these attitudes.

For whites, the view may be based on a prejudice against blacks that has been fostered over the years through national culture, local history and familial influence. For blacks, the mindset of inferiority may be a defensive mechanism created
during the era of segregation, only intensified with multiple personal experiences with outright racism and workplace discrimination.

“It’s hard to change a mindset that is so deeply ingrained, and the older generation passes it forward,” Nelson said. “I had to leave Pensacola before I truly understood that.”
Because of her light complexion, Nelson said that she felt employers viewed her as the “safe” black employee who could work with customers. Recalling that memory, Nelson spoke of an earlier experience working in a Pensacola restaurant.

“When I worked at the restaurant,” Nelson said, “I noticed all of the black people were in the kitchen. Everyone else—all the other black people—were in the kitchen.
“Because I was light-skinned, I was the only [African American] up front. I didn’t want to be the only one where I worked. I didn’t want to be the only one like me, so I left.”

“What’s Here for me?”
One person who is helping to reverse the trend of outward migration is Quincy Hull. Hull, who goes by his stage name “Q”, is a poet with several books and CDs under his belt. Q has toured the country extensively promoting his work and has recently relocated to Pensacola from the majority minority city of Memphis, Tenn. The first time Q visited Pensacola he was attracted to the water. “The beaches are beautiful,” said Q. “I felt like it was something I needed.”

Q was invited back to Pensacola a month later to participate in an anti-police brutality poetry reading at Movement for Change. Shortly afterwards, Q gave a reading at End of the Line Café and decided to move here.

Q said, “At the time, I was ready to leave Memphis and was looking for a change. We performed at End of the Line, and it gave me an opportunity to meet people that helped me move to the city.”

Though Q likes his new surroundings, he said Pensacola is a hard place to work and live for a professional African-American artist.

“There’s definitely a divided view between the white artist in Pensacola and the black artist,” Q said. “When a white [poet] says something on stage, it will often be accepted. When I’m saying something opposite to their experiences, it won’t be looked at the same. If your work is being looked at as different because of skin privilege; that means that we have a long way to go.”

Q observed that the general lack of entertainment catering to a black audience may partly explain the exodus of young professionals from this area.

“If I was a young, professional black person I would be asking, ‘What’s here for me?’” Q said.

“For an outsider like me, [Pensacola] is kind of a culture shock,” says Q. “Now I have a decent job, it’s a decent community, but what kind of music and plays are being brought here? What kind of entertainment does the city support? Are there performing acts that I want to see?  These are the questions I ask myself,” he said.

“Right now, I don’t see that kind of entertainment here,” Q said. “I shouldn’t have to leave my city’s limits to see entertainment, especially in a city where we [blacks] are 30 percent [of the population]. It’s like, we’re here, but you don’t care. That’s how it feels sometimes.”

What is Lost
When talented professionals leave the area, “Pensacola loses out because of the great value that diversity provides in all aspects of a city,” said May, the D.C. attorney.

“I know African-American lawyers, doctors, teachers, accountants and other professionals that were born and raised in Pensacola and who would love to come back to their hometown,” May said. “But there are few opportunities for employment and almost no opportunities for growth in their professions.”

Carter believes that Pensacola loses the people that could mentor troubled youth and serve as an example to those who see little hope for their lives in Pensacola.

“Pensacola loses out because that’s one less positive role model/mentor that can help stop the violence, end racism, address topics that need improvement and be a voice for the people,” Carter said.
Nelson spoke of a friend in the medical profession who treats patients for free in Atlanta. According to Nelson, the friend works for free and provides pro bono work to people in her adopted community that need help, but cannot afford it.

“That work could be helping out people in her hometown of Pensacola,” Nelson said.

“Right now, [these professionals] are encouraging their communities to eat healthier and are giving free legal advice, for instance. These people could be helping to break that small-town mentality, but only if we can maintain our own right here. So far, that’s not happening.”

“If Black People Don’t Progress, Pensacola Doesn’t Progress.”

Some see the attitudes of indifference or open hostility to African Americans slowly changing and have ideas about how to make greater progress.

“I feel that Pensacola is growing into an environment of positivity for people of color, but needs to change the negative image [of African Americans] throughout the community,” Carter said.

To some extent, Nelson agrees.

“I think it’s getting better,” Nelson said. “I mean, I did get a return call. I did get an offer, even though it was at 54 percent lower pay than what I made doing the same thing in Atlanta.”

“The other side of that is that if you can surpass any racial barriers, you still have the economic hurdle,” she said. “That makes it increasingly hard to survive [in Pensacola].”

The combination of perceived racism in the workplace, lack of cultural opportunities for young people of color, and the general economic climate make Pensacola a hard sell for many former residents.

May insists that the “city has to take a clear stand on the importance of inclusion. The city will have to take the lead and be aggressive in its support of the value of diversity in the workplace.”

To help change this exodus of minority talent, “those who have access to resources will need to be willing to share those resources with individuals who are willing and have the capacity to perform,” May added.

For those interested in changing the trend of exodus from Pensacola, Q offered some advice: Anyone serious about correcting the situation must be prepared to start a dialogue.

“To leave black people behind is an old racist practice of Americans, and you don’t want to be associated with that past,” Q said.

“If all races, genders, and classes don’t move forward, then Pensacola doesn’t move forward. And if black people don’t progress, Pensacola doesn’t progress.”

Scott Satterwhite is a freelance writer and teaches writing at Pensacola State College.
Lauren Anzaldo contributed to this article.