Introduction

Immigration is a significant and constant change agent shaping the United States and immigrants are often time met with divergent opinions ranging from compassionate welcoming to blatant discrimination and violence. As such immigrants experience a host of feelings, cultural pressures and psycho-social changes. Additionally immigrants of color face the issue of racism and discrimination. Gerstle (2017) states that “[immigrant] minorities who are first drawn in with the promise that they too can partake of the American dream, and then are told that they will always be subordinate to white on account of their color” (p. 15). Nonetheless, various waves of immigrants have influenced the nation’s views on culture, diversity, religion, law, policy, national identity, and even higher education (Martin and Midgley 2003). Multiple immigrant groups have been components of the college campus since the inception of the colonies and the formation of the American college in the mid-1600s. Afro-Caribbean immigrants have also been contributors to this mosaic of American education. Erisman and Looney (2007) state that “The United States of America has always been a nation of immigrants” and emphasize that “it is imperative to develop policies at the federal, state, local, and institutional levels to help immigrants gain access to and succeed in higher education” (p. 1). This current study explores (a) the perceptions of Afro-Caribbean faculty members about their experiences with White faculty peers and students at their institutions of higher education and (b) the perceptions of Afro-Caribbean faculty members about their experiences with African–American faculty peers and students at their institutions of higher education.

History of Caribbean Immigrants in America

Historical patterns of Afro-Caribbean immigration to the United States show that migration began primarily at the beginning to mid-nineteenth century. This movement was propelled by Caribbean natives’ desire for better living and economic conditions (Waters 1994). Most immigrants gravitated to cities in the eastern region such as Miami, Washington, DC, Boston, and New York. This is largely due in part to the metropolitan nature of these locations as well as the establishment of networks of Caribbean migrant communities (Waters 1994). However, it must be noted that many of earliest Afro-Caribbean immigrants also entered the nation through the hallowed halls of Ellis Island (Mandulo 1995) reinforcing their oftentimes denounced and diminished historical relevancy to Europeans who entered through the same halls.

Immigration to the United States peaked in the 1920s but soon dwindled. The Great Depression and immigration laws developed between the 1930s and 1965 limited the quota of individuals allowed to migrate from the Commonwealth Caribbean (Foner 2001). Specifically, the McCarran–Walter Act of 1952 restricted the number of visas given to those living in European colonies (Foner 2001). The Immigration Act of 1965, which coincided with the Civil Rights Act of 1964, abolished these quotas resulting in exponential growth in the Caribbean population in the United States (Waters 1994). In 2009, “there were 3.3 million foreign-born Blacks in the United States, representing 8% of all Black Americans” (Waters et al. 2014, p. 371). Unlike their African–Americans counterparts whose ancestors were brought to what would become the United States as subjugated people during the Atlantic Slave Trade, Caribbean immigrants migrated to the United States voluntarily. However, these immigrants are descendants of African slaves in the colonial Caribbean. They usually emigrate possessing aspirations for financially and socially better lives than what they had in their countries of origin (Hilaire 2006). Once in the United States, Caribbean individuals realize that they are able to access educational and employment opportunities that either do not exist or are not accessible to them in their countries of origin.

Racial Positioning and Encountering Racism

Many black immigrants to the United States, such as those from African and Caribbean nations, have tended to not readily interact with African–Americans and socially distance themselves (Waters 1994). Lewis (2003) calls these identity boundaries “border skirmishes” whereby the immigrants are engaged in social positioning and territorial stances against their proximal host society comprised of African–Americans. Johnson (2016) shares “a conscious “othering” and distancing from African Americans had gained ground before the arrival of the post-civil rights cohorts” (p. 53). Deuax et al. (2007) believe that Caribbean immigrants comprehend the negative social stereotypes that are imposed upon the African American community. Concurrently the Afro-Caribbean immigrants realize that within the United States the white dominant society ascribes them the same status, station and class standing as African Americans which becomes their “proximal host society” (Warner 2012). As such, many Caribbean immigrants utilize their national origin, such as Jamaican, Haitian, St. Lucian, Trinidadian etc., as the foundation of their identity rather than conjoin with the African American collective (Waters 1994). This outward expression of national and cultural pride is also a function of racial positioning (Blumer 1958; Solórzano 1998). Racial positioning is a process by which individuals attempt to avoid negative racial experiences, historical and present. The distance is not only social, but also geographical. I large West Indian hubs like New York City, most of the Caribbean population can be found in the boroughs Brooklyn and Queens. Butterfield (2004) posits that not only do most Caribbean immigrants dwell in these domains, but that many actually never venture outside of the alcoves. Thus for Caribbean immigrants distancing themselves from African–Americans represent more than an attempt to avoid negative racial experiences. One might venture to say that they use these communities and social interactions as protective strategies in their new homeland. Nonetheless, Afro-Caribbean immigrants still inevitably encounter racism and discrimination. This can be a disconcerting experience as many immigrants originated from societies where they were not members of minority groups and where racism was not expressed in as a prevalent a manner as it is in the United States (Deuax et al. 2007). In many instances this is the first time many Caribbean immigrants become recipients of overt and customary racism. It must be noted, although Caribbean societies are indeed affected by race, social divisions are more deeply steeped in class and colorism (Martin 1971).

When Caribbean individuals migrate to the United States, they are immediately positioned as racial minorities, and subsequently, discover that they are denied the privileges and cultural status they enjoyed in their native nations. This newfound “racialized minoritization” makes adjustment in the United States difficult (Hilaire 2006). They are also bombarded with numerous stereotypes, many of which may not be positive or complimentary (Timberlake et al. 2015). However, individuals who immigrate at a significantly younger age possess a keener comprehension of racial ideologies rooted in the structures of American society. In this regard, Caribbean immigrant youth demonstrate some similarity to Nigerian youth who often report having to “learn” the meaning of blackness in the US context in ways that significantly impact how they experience their racial identities and tend to feel challenged about the authenticity of their Nigerian identity by both Africans and non-Africans alike (Awokoya 2009). Thus, in many ways, the newfound social experiences of Caribbean immigrants bear much resemblance to that of their African immigrant counterparts and occur concurrently as the immigrants develop an even heightened sense of Caribbean-nationalistic identity, which is reified by their belonging to local migrant-populated communities (Feliciano 2009). Warner (2012) states that “Afro-Caribbean immigrants’ desire to employ ethnic markers to distinguish themselves was propelled their need, as an “invisible minority” to become more visible… and so construct an identity different than that of African Americans” (p. 21). Subsequently, the experiences of Afro-Caribbean immigrants and their African American counterparts are, in general, markedly different especially in terms of initial encounters with racism (Cross 1991) and the greater society.

Rogers (2004) believes, however, that the coalescing of Afro-Caribbean and African–Americans does not readily occur because of the lack of mechanisms. Rogers states “The absence of an institutional mechanism for uniting and building trust between Afro-Caribbean and African Americans elites diminishes the prospects of race based mobilization. Of course there have been small pockets of mutual cooperation…” (p. 312). Warner (2012) agrees that “at times they [Afro-Caribbean immigrants and African–Americans] not coalesce behind common racial or ethnic identity” (p. 70). Furthermore, the chasm deepens when immigrants experience greater levels of professional and academic success than their African–America counterparts are attributed to the immigrants’ social assimilation and acceptance of the white dominant culture. Waters et al. (2014) state that “immigrants’ achievement of “whiteness” in large part by distancing themselves from African Americans as a key factor in their upward mobility (p. 370). However, in as much as the immigrants continuously wrangle with their identities within the United States societal events, such as the racially laced assault of Abner Louima, there is the realization that they too are amalgamated with their proximal host society of African–Americans.

The Perpetual “White Space” in America’s Academy

The American Academy has historically been a “White space”. These spaces are perpetuated by not only the building blocks of European university systems, but also colonial ideals that have been fostered for centuries creating university campuses which have enrolled predominantly White populations. Multiple generations of White populations have dictated normative social systems (Anderson 2015); systems which have been maintained by a power structure which Shaw (2014) describes as “…dominated by white male faculty and administration” (p. 270). Thus the American Academy, as diverse as it has become, continues to be an environment controlled by a White power structure operating on a White belief system. Within these White systems and spaces “black people are typically absent, not expected, or marginalized when present. In turn, blacks… typically approach [those] space[s] with care” (Anderson 2015, p. 10).

Yet policy changes, enactment of progressive laws, and immigration have enabled greater levels of cultural inclusion in the general society and higher education environment. Grasmuck and Kim (2010) state “college campuses have witnessed greater racial heterogeneity related to dramatic increases in immigration post-1965” (p. 222). In an effort to address this evolution, many institutions develop initiatives fostering diversity and creating innovative ways to open their doors to underrepresented groups at both the student and faculty levels. This progressive aim to accommodate the needs of diversified populations has resulted in both a reevaluation and adjustment of many disciplines’ curricula, faculty roles, and pedagogy to foster more conducive learning environments for the evolving population (Hainline et al. 2010).

What the academy has not been adept at addressing is the heterogeneity within minority populations. Minority populations oftentimes are presented as a whole group based on race, and the unique experiences of various ethnicities and nationalities are oftentimes not taken into account; as Harushimana and Awokoya (2011) note “[t]he multicultural paradigm has yet to frame a multidimensional, culturally-responsive pedagogy, so that the needs and experiences of immigrant groups from societies with an embedded cultural diversity are recognized” (p. 36). One such example is the way in which Asian populations are presented when institutions address diversity. Chin (2014) uses the example of the University of Washington as they describe many categories of students as simple “Asian”. He states “the category “Asian” encompasses an extremely large range of students” (para. 1) and disaggregates the aforementioned population mentioning specific subgroups such Chinese, Koreans, Vietnamese, Laotians, and Filipinos. His list still did not include individuals of Japanese or Hmong origins which indicate that it was not an exhaustive list. This exercise signifies (a) the precision necessary when engaging in issues of diversity and (b) the inadvertent exclusion of other groups. Similarly Afro-Caribbean students and faculty members are rendered indiscernible, and are frequently erroneously perceived and identified by others as being African–American (Mwangi and Chrystal 2014). This misperception based on racial phenotypes oftentimes leads to the further marginalization, and ultimately, invisibility of Afro-Caribbean individuals. Hence, more substantive analyses of the experiences of this invisible subpopulation are salient for a more accurate, nuanced, and holistic discourse on diversity.

Caribbean Population and America’s Educational Landscape

Caribbean populations, and other Black immigrant populations, significantly influence the educational landscape through the acquisition of education and degrees. Martin and Midgley (2003) state that “the average educational level of immigrants has been rising” (p. 25); and more pertinent is that “Black immigrants have more college education and higher rates of degree attainment than any other immigrant group in the United States” (Faris 2012, para. 4). This educational attainment can result in Afro-Caribbean individuals, and other Black immigrants, securing positions of leadership and influence. Most recently Dr. Wayne Frederick, a native Trinidadian, was named the seventeenth president of Howard University, the renowned historically Black university (Brown and Robinson 2014). At the largest land grant university, Texas A&M University, Dr. Christine Stanley serves as the vice-president of diversity and associate provost; she is a native of the island of Jamaica (Texas A&M University 2016). These are two examples of Afro-Caribbean immigrants impacting the landscape of higher education in the United States.

The literature in education presents sufficient evidence that Afro-Caribbean immigrants have played a significant role in changing the ways in which education is approached. In cities such as New York and Miami—hubs of Caribbean immigration—educators constantly work to modify curricula to address the diverse needs of their students. These modifications respond directly to calls, such as those by Ruiz, Latortue and Rosefort (n.d.), which require educators to “recognize and address the acculturation needs of newly arrived students from the Caribbean countries…” and to address their “cultural and linguistic needs in a sensitive, informed, and intelligent fashion” (p. 4). Hence, there is a growing need to acknowledge the pertinent role of Afro-Caribbean in shaping K-12 curricula and supporting Afro-Caribbean students in major regions in the United States. Consequently if the numbers of educational attainment by Black immigrants continue to rise as Martin and Midgley (2003) purport there will be higher representation of Afro-Caribbean students, Afro-Caribbean faculty and university administrators on our campuses in the foreseeable future.

Afro-Caribbean Faculty in America’s Academy

It is extremely difficult to attain a precise number or percentage of Afro-Caribbean faculty members in the Academy. Unfortunately many times statistics, census data, and research on Caribbean populations in America are not comprehensive or scant at best. And as previously mentioned this population has been combined with data on African–Americans; reinforcing the invisibility of Afro-Caribbean people. Mwangi and Chrystal (2014) refers to Bryce-Laporte’s (1972) idea of “double invisibility” when describing Black immigrants in the United States. She states,

due to a minority racial identity and foreign status, their needs and distinct experiences often go unnoticed in scholarly, political, and social arenas… [and] there has been an underlying lack of acknowledgement of Black immigrants in US society, and particularly in higher education research, policies, and practices (p. 4).

Thus, exploring the Afro-Caribbean faculty members’ experiences in the American Academy becomes vital to discourses on the multifaceted nature of Blackness.

Unfortunately and unwillingly, to contextualize the Afro-Caribbean faculty member in the Academy we have to utilize the existing non-disaggregated national data on Black faculty. However, superimposing Waters et al. (2014) data on foreign-born Blacks with Kent’s (2007) data on college-age Blacks in the United States we can make an extrapolated estimate. Waters et al. (2014) state that foreign-born Blacks in the United States represent 8% of all Black Americans; and Kent’s (2007) states that 13% of all college-age Blacks in the United States are the children of African or Caribbean descent. Assuming that these percentages translate across all spheres of society we can extrapolate that Afro-Caribbean faculty members possibly comprise between 8 and 13% of all Black faculty.

On a national level, Black faculty members make up 6% of the total full-time instructional faculty compared to 79% of their White counterparts in 2011 (US Department of Education 2014). Additionally, compared to 84% of White full-time professors only 4% are Black (US Department of Education 2014). Utilizing the aforementioned assumptions Afro-Caribbean faculty members make up less than 1% of all faculty members in the United States. Although this number may beg the question of relevance for studying this population, one should seriously consider the probable heightened marginalization experienced by this group. This reiterates the importance for exploring Afro-Caribbean faculty members’ experiences in the American Academy. These numbers also breathe life into Erisman and Looney’s (2007) charge to assist immigrants gain access and become successful in higher education—on both the student and faculty levels.

The African American Faculty Experience

Research has demonstrated that African American faculty members experience structural racial inequities that result in barriers to access, promotion, tenure, and retention especially at predominantly White institutions (PWIs) (Allen et al. 2000; Fraizer 2011; Padilla 1994). These systematic inequities for African American faculty members include lower academic status, lower salary, stunted advancement, workload imbalances. African American faculty members are overburdened with service roles of mentoring and advising underrepresented students on campus and serving on committees that focus on diversity and race-related issues and initiatives (Allen et al. 2000; Cartwright et al. 2009; Constantine et al. 2008). Consequently, African American faculty members have less time to focus on research and scholarly publications than their White counterparts; hindering their productivity towards promotion and tenure.

African American faculty members also report experiencing interpersonal racism and oppression, both directly and indirectly, at PWIs (Louis et al. 2016; Constantine et al. 2008; Flowers et al. 2008; Pittman 2010, 2012; Tuitt et al. 2009; Stanley 2006). This is quite common in academia, a subset of which is referred to as racial microaggression. Racial microaggression is defined as “a form of systemic, everyday racism used to keep those at the racial margins in their place” (Pérez Huber and Solórzano 2015, p. 298). Racial microaggression leads to negative experiences for African Americans faculty members in the workplace, adversely impacting their physical and psychological well-being. It also creates an unwelcoming campus climate for African American faculty members in the classroom, the department, and the institution. At PWIs, Black faculty members experience isolation, invisibility, and marginalization, unequal treatment, and the devaluing of credentials, qualifications, and scholarly expertise by White colleagues, administrators, and students (Tuitt et al. 2009).

Purpose of the Study

The purpose of this study was to explore (a) the perceptions of Afro-Caribbean faculty members about their experiences with White faculty peers and students at their institutions of higher education and (b) the perceptions of Afro-Caribbean faculty members about their experiences with African–American faculty peers and students at their institutions of higher education. The researchers hoped to gain an emic perspective of the lived experiences of Afro-Caribbean immigrant faculty members at various traditionally White institutions of higher education in the United States. The researchers wanted to understand the participants’ experiences with both faculty peers and students; populations with whom they most frequently interact. The researchers deemed it important to explore their participants’ experiences with both White and Black populations since Afro-Caribbean individuals are (a) a subdominant group with respect to Whites both at their campus and the greater society (b) erroneously categorized as a subpopulation of African Americans and (c) a numerical minority with respect to both Whites and African–Americans.

This qualitative study utilized Scholarly Personal Narratives (SPN) to shed light on participants’ experiences, reactions to multiple situations, and feelings. The findings of this study can provide insight on the experiences of an under-researched population and add to the discourse on the heterogeneity of Blackness, specifically as it pertains to the American Academy.

Conceptual Framework

The study explored the experiences of Afro-Caribbean-born faculty members currently employed at traditionally White institutions in the United States. Their interactions with (a) White faculty peers and students and (b) Black faculty peers and students were the central issues addressed in the development of their narratives. Counter-storytelling was also an overarching aspect of the narrative, meaning that the authors understood that their stories would not be part of the status quo of their respective institution’s story. Since the voices in this study are those of a minority population expressing their experiences within a predominantly White environment, critical race methodology became the framework (Solórzano and Yosso 2002). Critical Race Theory (CRT) was developed by scholars and social activists attempting to highlight the disparities that exist in environments as a consequence of racial discrimination, and power (Delgado and Stefancic 2006). CRT was applicable as a framework for the study, since the participants were (a) minorities in the context of their traditionally White institutions (b) immigrants to the United States and (c) hold subdominant stations in terms of power and influence within both White and African American spheres.

CRT’s counter-storytelling is an effective vehicle for relaying the experiences and stories of groups which usually are not told (Solórzano and Yosso 2002). This approach also emphasized and legitimized the experiences of a disenfranchised population (DeCuir and Dixson 2004; Parker and Villalpando 2007). Furthermore the resulting stories offered revelations about individuals’ experiences and inform larger populations—colleges, universities, greater society, Whites, African Americans—about their experiences (Reddick and Sáenz 2012). Thus the narratives became essential in this current study not only for understanding the experiences of the Afro-Caribbean participants, but they may help frame future studies of immigrant populations.

Methods

This qualitative study (Patton 2014; Lincoln and Guba 1985) is heavily rooted in the narrative tradition employing procedures from Scholarly Personal Narrative (Nash 2004). Scholarly Personal Narrative (SPN) is a distinctive form of inquiry and is part of the narrative tradition (Nash 2004). As a method, SPN intentionally uses the perceptions of the scholar as the primary source of data. The method put the participants’ words at the center of the study and utilized their lenses to explain, interpret, and validate the experiences. The authors adopted guidelines developed by Nash (2004) and Nash and Bradley (2011) in formulating a series of questions and prompts for the participants to develop their narratives. Their narratives were written in a free-flowing manner with no parameters placed on length or language, and all were encouraged to discuss topics and experiences that they perceived as important. The narratives were coded, using open coding, and subsequently axial coding to derive themes.

Sampling

A hybrid of purposeful self-study sampling (Patton 2014) and convenience sampling (Johnson and Christensen 2012) were utilized for this study. According to Patton (2014) purposeful self-study sampling is when one examines one’s own experience as the researcher, making one’s self the case. Thus the SPN method allows for the researchers to ponder, make meaning, and express their experiences. Johnson and Christensen (2012) state that convenience sampling occurs when researchers utilize participants who are “available or volunteer or can be easily recruited and are willing to participate in the research study.” (p. 230) For this study the five researchers (a) examined and constructed meaning from their own experiences as Afro-Caribbean faculty members at traditionally White institutions and (b) were available, willing, and volunteered to participate in the study.

Participants

Five Afro-Caribbean individuals currently employed as tenure-track faculty members at traditionally White institutions participated in the study. They hailed from four different institutions. Three different types of institutions were represented (a) one large rural public university in the south (b) two large public urban institutions in the northeast, and (c) one small private liberal arts university in the south. The institutions were not mentioned in the vignettes of the participants to add a layer of anonymity. The institutions were located in three different states and three different regions of the United States. All of the participants were born in one of three English-speaking Caribbean islands and earned at least their doctoral degree in the United States. Pseudonyms were given to each participant and the countries of origin were labelled alphabetically for anonymity purposes. The names chosen for the participants were all gender neutral to add yet another layer of anonymity.

Procedure

An instrument consisting of eighteen open-ended questions was given to the participants (Appendix). The items in the survey were vetted by two researchers independent of the study to ensure that the question/prompts used were as accurate as possible to the essence of the study. The instrument was divided into four sections (a) general experience as a faculty member (b) experiences with White faculty members (c) experiences with African–American faculty members and (d) experiences with students. The participants were given 3 weeks to answer the questions on the instrument; however, they were instructed to read the entire instrument without writing, encouraged to take time to think of their answers, and then respond to the questions. This procedure allowed the participants to mull over their various experiences and develop full interpretations of those experiences. Once the narratives were collected, data were analyzed by the research team and the findings were reported.

Analysis

Researchers read through the narratives. Line-by-line open coding and subsequently axial coding were utilized to identify recurrent concepts, topics, and experiences. The meaning of various aspects, quotes, patterns, and chunks of the narratives were discussed between researchers. Relevant statements, common quotes, and similar topics were extracted from the narratives. Common themes emerged about the experiences of the Afro-Caribbean faculty members at traditionally White institutions.

Positionality

Bourke (2014) espouses that the cultural background and value system of an individual ultimately shape his/her realities and perceptions. However for this study multiple researchers were involved. Thus, the background of every Afro-Caribbean faculty member, who were concurrently participants and researchers in this study, impacts the research, analysis, and interpretation processes. The researchers coined this idea “plural positionality” in an informal fashion throughout the study. However, the various perspectives assisted in not creating a monolith of thought as the analysis was being conducted on the narratives. Nonetheless, their lenses are critical to comprehend the context of the data framing the meaning of the reported experiences. Thus the following vignettes share some of the context of the researchers, who in an SPN are also participants.

Ellis was born in “Caribbean Island A” and migrated to the US as a pre-teen. He/she has been educated in the US from middle school on to his/her doctorate degree. Ellis spent most of his/her years in the US living in a major multicultural city within an established West Indian community. It was not until pursuing his/her doctorate degree at a large public southern university that he/she was faced with an onslaught of overt and covert racism. He/she is currently a tenure track professor. Ellis has lived in the northeast, the south and the Midwest regions of the United States.

Kris was born in “Caribbean Island B”. His/her early and undergraduate schooling took place in the Caribbean. He/she later went on to undertake graduate studies in the United States. Kris currently functions as a tenure-track professor in the social sciences. He/she has lived in the United States for over 7 years and has spent most of his/her time engaging in teaching and scholarship at large public research universities in the Midwest and south. As a result, he/she has numerous positive, as well as negative experiences, with White, African–American and other Black faculty in the United States. Kris identifies as heterosexual and Black.

Harper was born in “Caribbean Island A” and did his/her early schooling in the Caribbean nation. Harper is a tenure track professor in the social sciences. Harper has lived in the United States for over 25 years and earned all of his/her degrees in the United States. Harper’s doctorate was earned at a large public university that had Confederate Army ties, and allowing him/her to witness blatant racial tension on campus. Harper identifies as a heterosexual and Black. Harper has lived in both urban and rural areas; and has also lived in the north, south and Midwestern states.

Kellan was born and raised in “Caribbean Island A” and completed all of his/her undergraduate and graduate work in the United States. He/she is a tenure track professor in the social sciences. He/she has lived in the United States for about 20 years. He/she identifies as Black.

Courtney was born and raised in “Caribbean Island C” is a tenure track professor in the social sciences. He/she has lived in the United States for over 10 years and earned his/her terminal degree from a university in the United States. He/she identifies as Black.

Trustworthiness

Lincoln and Guba (1985) outlined the fundamental framework for researchers to ensure rigor in qualitative research, which they coined trustworthiness. To ensure a study is trustworthy they supplanted the positivistic ideas of validity, reliability, and generalizability (Loh 2013) with four elements that were more fitting to qualitative research appropriate. The elements of trustworthiness are (a) credibility (b) transferability; (c) confirmability and (d) dependability.

Whether the results of the study are an accurate description of the participants’ perception of an experience is referred to as credibility (Lincoln and Guba 1985). In this study the researchers discussed, questioned, confirmed, and reconfirming the content of the narratives with the participants. This allowed the participants opportunities to confirm, negate, change, or express differently the meanings of the experiences shared in their narrative. This exercise enabled the researchers to tease out precise meanings within the narratives. This member-checking was done after all the narratives were completed and submitted.

The extent to which data and findings from a study may be utilized to understand contexts other than that of the current study yet pertains to similar scenarios is transferability. The researchers described (a) the context of each participant in the study (b) described their faculty category at their institution, although rank was excluded for anonymity purposes (c) the number of years they have resided in the United States and (d) their country of origin (e) the region of the country which they and their institutions are located and (f) the type of institution with which they were affiliated. This information allows the study to be comprehended by other researchers for possible use in future studies.

The principal investigator (PI) of the research team kept a written account of all topics discussed by the research group. The PI also kept an ongoing description of all the procedures throughout the study including, but not limited to, (a) the vetting of the narrative prompts by external researchers (b) the coding of themes by the research team (c) thoughts shared by team members about the direction of the study (d) contextual issues that pertained to the study (e) the actual step-by-step process that was followed and (f) the interactions with and observations of the participants during the member-checking process. This enabled the team to have a comprehensive record of the entire research process.

After re-checking the procedures and revisiting the data as a research group, the team decided to have an independent researcher read and analyze all of the narratives. The independent researcher’s area of expertise was cultural studies and has been engaged in years of significant levels of qualitative research. This allowed for an outside perspective to the study. After the independent researcher shared their findings, the PI also shared the aforementioned comprehensive record of the study. This was done to garner a third party’s assessment of the study’s soundness.

Limitations

The study involved only five participants from four traditionally White universities. SPNs give very close and personal insight into the experiences of the individual, their construction of reality, and the meaning of their experiences. Therefore, the transferability of the information and knowledge gained should be carefully analyzed with the original context in mind. Prior to the study being conducted, some of the author-participants engaged in dialogues and interactions which may have established trust and openness when responding to the narrative prompts and may influence the tone of the narratives.

Findings

Four themes emerged from the analysis of the narratives (a) status discount (b) stereotypes and microaggression (c) isolation and (d) affinity with African–Americans. The following sections describe the themes that emerged. Although there was extensive narrative describing multiple scenarios and numerous quotes, the research team agreed that some quotes would highlight the experiences of the participants.

Status Discount

The first theme that emerged from the narratives was “status discount”. Participants reported that both White faculty members and White students made derogatory comments or remarks that diminished and put into question the status of the Afro-Caribbean faculty members. Participants expressed that White faculty members usually commented about their rank and alluded to their academic unworthiness as faculty members. Students, however, stated or inferred that the Afro-Caribbean faculty members were incompetent or were “ignorant” of information about their field. Kellan shared an experience from a campus event:

I was among four faculty members speaking to prospective students and their parents. I was the only Black faculty [the others were White]. One of the senior faculty members paid us all compliments; my compliment was first about how well dressed I was… but everyone else’s [White faculty members’] compliments were about their scholarship.

Through this exchange, Kellan’s equal status and rank as a faculty member was blatantly not acknowledged. The White faculty in this scenario were viewed and addressed as scholarly while the Afro-Caribbean faculty member was simply “well dressed.”

Kellan also describes a time when a White faculty member expressed surprise that he/she was chosen to speak at an event. Kellan stated the faculty member said, “When I saw your name listed to speak, I thought wow they are having junior faculty do these? They are really scraping the bottom of the barrel. But when I heard your speech, it was amazing. So well done!” The White faculty member referring to the Afro-Caribbean colleague as “the bottom of the barrel” was a hostile attack on their ability. This is further compounded by the White faculty member saying “Well done” as an expression of surprise regarding Kellan’s ability to speak at an event effectively.

Harper also shared an experience involving a White senior faculty member. When the faculty member realized Harper was also a faculty member involved in a particular campus activity he exclaimed “You must be one of those smart ‘ones’! What sport did you play in college?” Harper continued, “I was astonished that this fellow faculty member had the gall to express his bigotry in such an open fashion. I guess I could only earn my degree through an athletic scholarship and not my intellect?” These are examples of White faculty members overtly belittling the credibility of faculty of color, and in this instance Afro-Caribbean faculty member, regardless of their academic status.

The participants shared that their status is consistently questioned and as a result they continuously engage in justifying and reminding others of their credentials. They all expressed that they had to participate in this ‘convincing’ exercise in everyday interactions because of the numerous status discount interactions they have experienced. Ellis stated,

While interacting with some of my campus colleagues they make quite a few assumptions about me. First, some have assumed that I am an adjunct, and not a full-time tenure track faculty member. Secondly, some have assumed that I have not completed my doctoral degree.

Consequently, Ellis has had to reiterate his/her degree attainment and credentials to garner any level of peer-respect from faculty colleague in simple interactions.

With respect to White students, Courtney shared, “I have had experiences with White students who questioned my educational background and who openly challenged me on various topics.” From another narrative, Kris stated “It seemed like some of them [White students] did not believe I was legitimate enough to teach them probably because of my Caribbean background.” White students, with whom the Afro-Caribbean faculty interacted, did not believe, respect, or recognize the qualifications or station of the professors in whose courses they were enrolled.

Stereotypes and Microaggression

The second theme that emerged was “stereotypes and microaggressions.” The researchers deemed “stereotypes” distinctly different from “status discount”; however, they do become interlinked when analyzing the experiences of the participants. Stereotypes occur when White individuals’ remarks focused specifically on categorizing certain behavior, actions, beliefs, and/or images about Blacks in a derogatory manner. The remarks were both intentional and non-intentional verbal insults and which were perceived as hostile, derogatory, and/or negative specifically relating to their Blackness and their immigrant origins. “Status discount” involved derogatory remarks related to the participants’ role as a faculty member but also referenced negative beliefs and ethnic typecasts of people of color. Harper shared,

I can’t tell you how many times that people, faculty, administrators whom I’ve built relationships with, who feel comfortable around me, use phrases such as ‘You know how you all do it’ or ‘Maybe you can understand how the minority students think’ or some ridiculous assumption that because I am Black that I have some insight on every Black person or the entire Black community.

At a social event held on campus, Kellan was told by a White colleague, “You dance so well; but of course you would.” Courtney stated “I have been told that I can be a bit ‘proper’ with my speech and my demeanor. When I ask for clarity I was told by students that I did not speak slang.” The implication being that Courtney being an individual of color should speak in a certain preconceived and stereotypical manner. The participants were approached by members of the White campus community who held certain stereotypes, and these individuals openly expressed their preconceived ideas about Blacks and imposed them on the participants. The Afro-Caribbean faculty members all expressed horror of the blatant use of stereotypes and the ease with which Whites would use them in conversation.

Stereotypes expressed by White individuals specifically concerning Caribbean immigrants were also common in the narratives. Kris shared,

I have experienced microaggressions from White faculty members verbally in the form of being referred to as “illegal” (in reference to being an immigrant), being told that I would be very welcome as long as I “didn’t do something as silly as come in and shoot everyone” or “blow up the building” (in reference to being Black) and in another case, being told that “at least we know [he/she] is not a convict” (in reference to being Black).

Participants all expressed being subjected to erroneous assumptions and very negative stereotypes from White colleagues and students. They also shared the surprise they experienced and the shock at the ease which with White individuals expressed their cultural insensitivities and racism.

Interestingly, within the category of microaggressions, a trend emerged, coined by the research team as, “Wardrobe Microaggression”. Every participant shared an experience about someone making a comment about their wardrobe even though none of the prompts for the narratives addressed clothing. Kellan shared, “Faculty colleagues often comment on how I am the best dressed on campus.” Courtney shared one of his/her wardrobe microaggression incidents:

Many students seem taken aback and surprised. They comment that I am always professionally dressed. I tell them that I have the utmost respect for myself, my profession and for them, that is why I take the time to have what I consider the proper attire.

The participants explained that colleagues not only made comments or gave unorthodox compliments about their attire but also made disparaging assumptions surrounding their reason from their clothing choices. Harper related a story,

I ran into a departmental colleague in the hallway and he said to me “Who are you all dressed up for? Who are you always trying to impress?” I shook my head not knowing how to respond, because I was not dressed any differently than any other work day. It really bothered me because the insinuation is that every day I’m trying to impress somebody, when the truth is I am simply dressing to go to work.

The researchers believed the comments about clothing were an indication of White individuals’ discomfort with Black colleagues.

Although the themes were distinct, there was one instance of intersectionality with “status discount” and “stereotype and microaggression” that the research team thought very salient. Kellan utilized “Wardrobe microaggression” to his/her perceived advantage by making a statement through their attire choices. Kellan stated “I wear a [suit or suit equivalent] on campus most of the time. I think this immediately won me some respect.” Thus it is possible for the participants to utilize the negative attention they garner from individuals in their environment to leverage positive outcomes.

Isolation

The third theme from the narrative is “Isolation.” Participants discussed social isolation within and beyond the workplace. Although they all shared that they enjoyed their job, they felt being “apart” from the larger departmental, college and university faculty community. They shared that both African–American and White faculty colleagues were relatively social but there was not a truly genuine or deeper connection or sense of camaraderie. The participants expressed a feeling of not part being of the social collective especially with White colleagues.

Harper shared, “White colleagues are nice in the office. However, unless it is a university event I never interact socially with them. My Black colleagues and I have lunch or coffee or even meet outside of the work setting.” Harper continued to describe encountering White colleagues in external settings socially or overhearing them in the office speaking of “getting together” but never having been invited: “I have invited White colleagues to my home for events… one may come by, and for a very limited period. I think they are uncomfortable from my perspective”. Ellis also explained,

The feeling is almost like they belong to a social club and I am an interloper. It’s very obvious as they hold conversations and make references and jokes that only they understand. And it’s not as though I can’t figure out what is going on, but the body language almost always includes someone’s back facing me, or people speaking in hushed tones when in a larger group.

Courtney expressed that he/she is never invited to an events or gathering of his/her faculty in department. He/she stated

Keep in mind, that I see and interact with my faculty members on a daily basis, but I am not openly invited into many of their on campus writing or social events. I must clarify that this is not the case of the newer and younger faculty… It has been a silent struggle for me. I wanted on many occasions to express my dissatisfaction or my distaste [but] I have learned that it is actually easier to know when to be become vocal and when to just remain quiet, but observant.

Courtney expressed his/her observation of the actions of marginalization that resulted in his/her isolation. He/she also shared that the struggle with the non-invitation to events was an internal “silent” struggle. Courtney expressed that this isolation was also prevalent with African American faculty colleagues as well. He/she said with respect to African Americans, “I have dealt with sarcastic comments and made to feel excluded on many occasions… I have been called “Oreo” by African American individuals affiliated with the institution.” His/her narrative shared that isolation was not exclusive to his/her relationships with White individuals.

Kellan shared “I feel welcomed on campus. But it is in the community I do not feel a sense of belonging.” Thus it is not always the one-on-one or immediate group of colleagues that can cause isolation, but the overarching lack of connectivity to the campus community. The idea of not-belongingness is a form of isolation. Thus, there seems to be a belief by the participants that White colleagues intentionally do not interact with them socially, and to a certain extent, they are excluded from social collaborations.

Affinity with African–Americans

Although every participant shared that they experienced negative situations involving African Americans they (a) expressed that they viewed these experiences as isolated incidents and (b) four of the five participants stated that they had positive perception of and interactions with African Americans. The overall perception of the Afro-Caribbean participants was that they felt an affinity with African Americans in terms of their Blackness, experiences as a minority in the United States, and within the Academy. Harper stated,

Some of my greatest advocates in the field have been African–Americans. This is not to say that we do not have divergent ideas and philosophies about issues, but from my experience, I think we share an understanding that we are Black together here in the United States, and especially in the Academy…. There are so few of us, that to create unnecessary rift would lead only to our demise. In many ways I trust my African–American colleagues the most in my field; they’ve stood by me, defended me, and supported me in more ways than I can imagine.

Clearly, there is a kinship and kindred spirit expressed. Kellan similarly echoed,

I feel a great wonderful affinity with African–American faculty. I feel very much supported by them. There aren’t many of us so I think psychologically we gravitate to each other. But we also genuinely enjoy the company of each other.

Ellis share that region of the United States may also play a role in the development of his/her relationship and interactions with African Americans. He/she stated

My interactions with African American faculty members are very positive. I think this is particularly true because of the location of my institution… When I lived [in another region], Afro-Caribbean individuals were few and far in between. There seemed to be a lack of understanding between the two groups. Being in [my current location], I think both groups have an understanding of each other, and this allows for more camaraderie.

Ellis continued to share that his/her current location is one in which Afro-Caribbean hubs exists in close proximity, and in some cases integrated with, African American neighborhoods.

Kris shared that his/her experience with African American was a “normal” one but also realized the cultural differences. He/she stated,

I would describe my experience as a normal one, up until I expected them to act like Caribbean folks. Sometimes there is that expectation that because African–American faculty are Black like me, so there is sometimes the assumption they understand my struggle and therefore would be an advocate for me or a mentor to me but this was not always the case. Of course, there were African American faculty members who were instrumental in my success.

Overall, the participants explained that their interactions with African–Americans faculty and students were positive and their seemed to be an understanding of their Blackness as a common thread in White dominated Academy.

Discussion

The Afro-Caribbean participants in this study reported having strained and contentious relationships with White faculty peers and White students. They consistently dealt with negative remarks, ethnic stereotyping, social non-acceptance, disregard for their station as a faculty member, and disrespect about their intellectual abilities. However, their sentiments about African American faculty peers and students were markedly different. Overall their interactions and feelings about African Americans were positive. They expressed understanding, empathy and respect for the history of African Americans in the United States and their struggle for equality, access, and equity. There was also an understanding by the Afro-Caribbean participants about the Blackness continuum, and that both Afro-Caribbeans and African Americans may not share an exact history but that they share the range of skin hues as well as the minority and subdominant status in the United States and the Academy.

Afro-Caribbean faculty in this study experienced marginalization and were the recipients of demeaning and demoralizing actions from some of their White faculty peers and students at their institutions. The actions of the White individuals were direct responses to the participants’ (a) ethnicity or Blackness and (b) immigrant status. This is noteworthy on two levels. Firstly their experiences exemplify the perpetuation of the myopic, non-diverse, and unwelcoming ideologies of White spaces espoused by Anderson (2015). Secondly, the experiences of the Afro-Caribbean faculty members in this study mirror the experiences of African American faculty in the American academy (Louis et al. 2016; Constantine et al. 2008; Flowers et al. 2008; Pittman 2010, 2012; Tuitt et al. 2009; Stanley 2006). However, opposite to the racial positioning of Afro-Caribbean away from African Americans as Montalvo (2013) posit, the participants in this study expressed an affinity to their African American counterparts. And even though they all expressed that they had isolated negative experiences they felt akin with African Americans. There was an expressed understanding by Afro-Caribbean faculty members that they were summarily grouped by the dominant culture at their institutions as part of the proximal host society of African Americans (Warner 2012) and their experiences would not be significantly different. Consequently, it should be noted that as a faculty member group the institutional mechanism (Rogers 2004) for coalescing as a unified group may influence the level of affinity the participants felt with their African American counterparts. Overall the participants expressed feelings of camaraderie and kinship with African Americans.

Harvey (1987) states “An occasional slight or even a veiled insult is part of the territory for black academicians on white campuses” (p. 47). The discrediting of the Afro-Caribbean faculty and the blatant discounting of their status and role on their campuses in this study is undoubtedly parallel to that of their African Americans in the Academy. More recently Tuitt et al. (2009) delved into the myriad of ways in which faculty of color are recipients of negative, insulting, and even violent acts from their White colleagues and students. In this study the Afro-Caribbean faculty participants’ expressed the continual questioning by Whites about their capabilities and credibility and became central to the current narratives. They experienced snide remarks, intellectual put-downs, and condescending comments.

The participants shared that their Blackness resulted in instances of microaggression (Pittman 2010) and their immigrant status resulted in negative remarks about immigrants, immigration, citizenship etc. (Timberlake et al. 2015). These actions from White faculty peers and students created an environment where the Afro-Caribbean participants actively decided to (a) ebb into social isolation for their own safety yet (b) counteract their aggressive environment by having to vehemently and overtly stand their ground on issues, affirm their presence, reiterate their role as a faculty member, and assert their rank and contribution.

Unfortunately the stereotypes and microaggressions that the Afro-Caribbean faculty members experienced were indiscernible to those expressed by African Americans, except for the instances when immigrant status was addressed (Constantine et al. 2008; Pittman 2010, 2012; Tuitt et al. 2009). However, one central focus of this study is the elimination of the double-invisibility of Black immigrants as stated by Mwangi and Chrystal (2014). This invisibility that seems to stem from Caribbean immigrants learning about blackness in much the same ways as has been described in relation to their Nigerian counterparts (Awokoya 2009) may have impacted how they experienced their racial identities in ways that led them to feel unnoticed. As such the findings should reflect the specific experiences of the Afro-Caribbean faculty members and should not be lumped with the experiences of African Americans or with Africans, especially since layered within their experience is one of non-acceptance or disdain as an immigrant (Awokoya and Clark 2008). This aspect also reinforces the significance of the study because it centers on the double and intersectional othering of Afro Caribbean faculty: blackness and foreignness, filling the gap for recent calls to disentangle the experiences of Black immigrants from that of their native-born US counterparts (Awokoya and Clark 2008).

Inasmuch as the study attempts to highlight the double-invisibility (or double-othering) of the Afro-Caribbean faculty member, it also offers the potential to create or strengthen common ground between Afro-Caribbean and African American faculty members. Contrary to suppositions that studies like this reinforce strife among black sub-groups, this study enables Afro-Caribbean and African–American faculty to (a) engage in more nuanced and varied discussions about their experiences at White institutions (b) work with each other to provide social and professional support (c) collaborate to develop solutions for issues that are pertinent to them (d) formulate a critical mass to leverage institutional policy and (e) provide outreach and support to other Blacks for example Africans, Afro-Canadians who may encounter similar situations. In many ways, this study can provide insight to Black faculty and staff associations on the diverse nature of their constituents, and may even foster a call for all non-African American Blacks at their institutions to become active members of the organization.

As demographics change in the United States, the Academy will have to confront the intractability of issues around hiring/accepting and retaining faculty and students of color. Initiatives and programs aimed at mitigating these issues cannot be catch-all measures but will need to be contoured to the sometimes differentiated needs and positionalities of various minority groups. Nonetheless, the data reveal that while the Afro-Caribbean individuals are doubly-othered, there are also experiences that are conjoined to those of African–Americans, a nuance teased out by research. This kind of research can be helpful to others who wish to disaggregate and analyze the experiences of groups often perceived as a monolith, for example Asians. Afro-Caribbean people have been a part of the fabric of the United States for quite some time now, and have made many contributions to this society; more research on this understudied population can continue to unmask the double invisibility and double othering that they encounter, especially in a contemporary environment where there seem to be the simultaneous rising tides of diversity and xenophobia.