Yomi Adegoke - Slay In Your Lane - The Black Girl Bible

I ended up running for my athletics club, and I was good, but not good enough to pursue a career in it. When I was eight, I wanted to be an air traffic controller or an air stewardess, but I rapidly went off both ideas as I got older, when I realised that I would just be staring at a screen all day (or night), and I might not get time to enjoy the exotic places that I would be flying to. But my love for advertising never wavered. Back then, though, advertising was (and to a certain extent, still is) a very white-male, middle-class domain. So how would I carve out a career for myself as a young, black, working-class woman?

My dad was a very wise man. He knew nothing about the industry that I entered, nor did he know anyone in this field. My dad wanted myself and my sister to be doctors, lawyers or accountants – vocations that had a high standing back home in Barbados. These were professions that would earn us respect and, most importantly, a salary that meant we could have a good life. My older sister became an accountant and is now a university lecturer. She inspires me every day; she is strong-willed, bright and has a joy for life. I am the black sheep of the family. I didn’t go into medicine, law or finance. I pursued my love of advertising.

My dad knew how difficult it would be to be successful in the UK. It would be a marathon with many obstacles and challenges. He would often say,

‘You’re black and you’re female, you have to try twice as hard as anyone else.’

I did. I worked extremely hard. My athletics training made me focused. I am naturally competitive.

My dad would also say,

‘You have two ears and one mouth; use them in that proportion.’

I listened, I learned, and then I spoke up. I progressed.

I was fortunate to have my parents as role models and to influence me. So few young black women have role models outside of their immediate family and friends to help them navigate the inevitable hurdles that do exist. To give them valuable advice, encouragement, and support. I firmly believe that you need to See it to be it . It is no wonder that my careers advisor, all those years ago, thought that my future ahead was as a nurse or a teacher (in fairness, I do a bit of both in my current role!). They couldn’t see anything else for a young West Indian woman. Black female role models were just not visible then to inspire them or me.

It is no coincidence that I personally know so many of the women featured in Slay In Your Lane . There are too few of us who are visible and known. I admire and respect all of them. A number of these amazing women I count as my cheerleaders, and I am theirs. They encourage and support me in my journey, and I try to do the same for them.

This book needed to be written. It is a book of inspiration, a book that tells the story of struggle, of resilience and, most importantly, of achievement. It answers so many questions that I had when I started my own career journey and looked around and had few people to ask. I wish this book had existed then, I am so glad that it exists now.

If you are a young black woman you should read Slay In Your Lane . Elizabeth and Yomi have put together an incredibly valuable resource for you. They have collated the stories of women who have pioneered and gone before you. These women give their honest reflections and pearls of wisdom.

We are your cheerleaders. Now go SLAY!

Dr Karen Blackett OBE

‘Work twice as hard to be considered half as good’ was a saying that I, like most black women, grew up with. But it was only as I began my twenties and started to experience more of the world that it really started to hit home.

Slay In Your Lane is the love child of exasperation and optimism. I can’t pinpoint the exact incident that tipped me over the edge – the various microaggressions start to blur into one after some time – but after one particularly frustrating week at work, I realised I was done. Done with feeling conscious of my blackness and femaleness and apologising for just existing. Like me, my black female friends have the ambition and drive to succeed within spaces that were not initially set up for us to excel in, but we have all found that navigating them has proved to be a challenge at times.

I sought advice where so many women do: in books. I bought Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In , and although there were parts that I learned from and related to, I felt it failed to address the uniquely challenging experiences faced by me and women like me. And why would it? Sandberg can only speak to one facet of my being, my womanhood, which, for me, is wholly intertwined with my identity as a black woman.

So I went looking for black women at networking events who could speak to my experience, and advise me on how best to navigate my way through the challenges I saw ahead of me. I still felt optimistic and positive about the black female experience and I met successful and inspiring black women from a variety of industries – from a tech entrepreneur turning over six figures to a Magic Circle lawyer carving out her place in a male-dominated field. We shared stories about the challenges we encountered and the triumphs we could see on the horizon. These women were not the finger-snapping stereotypes from a TV series, to which society often reduces the black female experience. They were not monolithic; they were awe-inspiring, amazing and relatable. But something just didn’t add up: why were they only celebrated at ticketed events with limited numbers of seats?

I would leave these events feeling reassured that I wasn’t alone, but also saddened that this sense of sisterhood ended with the event. This longing led me to call my best friend, Yomi, who is a journalist, to persuade her to be the one to take on the challenge of amplifying these women’s voices and utilising their priceless advice on a bigger scale. I asked her to write a book that spoke to me, and other young, black, twenty-something women navigating life. Later, we decided to work on this campaign together.

Role models matter to the next generation more than ever, and black British women and girls have them in vast amounts, but you wouldn’t guess that from a glance at the shelf of your average bookstore. We need a movement that amplifies the voices and increases the visibility of black women who have been made thoroughly invisible by the mainstream. That’s what Slay In Your Lane hopes to be; we hope to offer confidence and inspiration, but also, most importantly, support to other black women who are in the process of building their own foundation and who will, if the world has its way, be constrained by the limitations society tries to place upon us.

There is a saying: ‘It takes a village to raise a child,’ but how about 39 of the most trailblazing black women in Britain? Slay In Your Lane is the personal-development course I never knew I needed; as you read this book I hope it gives you the tools and support to be in the driving seat of your life and not a mere passenger. Slay In Your Lane is #BlackGirlMagic personified. It is exactly what we’ve been waiting for: a chance to revel in the achievements of those who ran so we could fly, as well as to encourage those who are just about to take flight.

I owe a great deal to the TV medical comedy, Scrubs.

In an episode in Season 3, the white female doctor Elliot Reid turns to the black male doctor Christopher Turk and says he has ‘no idea how hard it is’ being a woman in their profession. ‘I have no idea?’ he says, eyebrow raised. ‘Look, I’m not gonna fight about whether in medicine it’s harder being black or a woman,’ she responds. ‘Black!’ Turk shouts. ‘Woman!’ Elliot retorts. At that very moment, a black female doctor passes them slowly. ‘Much props, Dr Rhodes,’ says an awkward Turk. The pair shuffle on the spot.