The Invisible Black Woman

The Table, the Seat, and the Illusion of Inclusion

We’ve been told for years to fight for a seat at the table. It’s become a mantra—whispered in boardrooms, shouted in keynote speeches, stitched into motivational posters. The table is framed as the place where influence lives, where decisions get made, where voices carry weight. And so, many of us fight tooth and nail to get there, through degrees, experience, late nights, early mornings, endless labor, and a smile stretched wider than our patience.

But what if I told you that not all seats are created equal?

Because here’s the reality: sometimes that so-called “seat at the table” comes with no power, no say, and no respect. Sometimes, it’s just a seat they gave you to quiet the noise of your asking. A token. A gesture. A performance. They’ll clap you on the back, hand you the chair, and then slide you crumbs while the full meal gets passed around to everyone else.

And then, they’ll have the audacity to expect gratitude.

Crumbs look like being invited to the meeting but not being given space to speak.

Crumbs look like your ideas showing up in the final strategy deck, but your name mysteriously disappearing from the credits.

Crumbs look like being celebrated on the company website for diversity points, while your pay lags far behind your colleagues’.

Crumbs look like a promotion in title only, with no resources or decision-making authority.

Here’s the hard truth: crumbs don’t feed your spirit. They barely sustain your career, and they certainly don’t honor your worth. You weren’t made to nibble politely at the leftovers of power. You deserve the full meal.

What if the problem isn’t that you don’t have a seat, but that you’re at the wrong table?

We spend so much time knocking on closed doors, begging for scraps of recognition, that we forget: we can build our own. We can flip the script. We can gather our people, our allies, our brilliance, and create spaces where nobody is served crumbs. Where everyone eats. Where the table expands rather than contracts.

That doesn’t mean the fight for equity at existing tables stops. But it does mean we stop confusing proximity to power with actual power. It does mean we stop accepting crumbs as proof that we belong.

So, how do you know if you’re being served crumbs?

Check the distribution. Are you receiving the same resources, credit, and compensation as your peers? Check the silence. When you speak, do people listen? Do your words move the room, or do they fall flat until repeated by someone else? Check the outcome. Is your career actually advancing, or are you just being rotated in circles under the illusion of progress?

And when you find that crumbs are all you’re being offered, you have a choice: stay and starve, or leave and feast.

A seat at the table ain’t worth it if they’re serving you crumbs. Because crumbs are not opportunity. Crumbs are not respect. Crumbs are not enough.

Choose fullness. Choose nourishment. Choose spaces where your value isn’t rationed out in bite-sized pieces.

Until next time, I wish you nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns, which are no less fictitious than the magnificent creature you are.