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Unlike well-off blacks in earlier generations, the black middle class that has blossomed in the wake of the civil rights movement is not constrained by the boundaries of race. Even before the Civil War, a modest economic elite of teachers, clergy and small tradesmen had emerged among free blacks, mostly in the North. By the late 19th century, industrialization had opened the way for blacks to enter the working class in larger numbers. Their paychecks in turn spurred growth in the ranks of black professionals and shopkeepers who catered to them. But that embryonic middle class was hedged all around by barriers of segregation, blocked from most dealings with the far more lucrative white market.
The contemporary black bourgeoisie is far more tightly linked to the broader American economy. Minority entrepreneurs once made their fortunes by serving black buyers ignored by white enterprises, in the manner of Motown founder Berry Gordy and Ebony magazine founder John H. Johnson. The new generation is epitomized by financier Reginald Lewis. Nineteen months ago his TLC Group, Inc., a leveraged-buyout firm, agreed to buy the international foods division of Beatrice Companies, Inc. (total sales in 1986: $2.5 billion). That made TLC the largest U.S. business to have a black executive at the helm.
Yet, for blacks the workplace can be a psychological minefield, seeded with racially fraught encounters that most whites never notice. If a white subordinate resists direction from a black supervisor, the manager may wonder if race is a factor in the insubordination. If a black is passed up for a promotion, he may conclude, rightly or wrongly, that race held him back.
The problem is compounded by the fact that middle-class blacks are often relatively isolated at work, typically finding themselves greatly outnumbered by white co-workers. When the workday ends, more often than not, blacks and whites who have labored shoulder to shoulder go their separate ways. Interracial socializing off the job remains rare enough to be remarked upon when it occurs. At some colleges, black faculty feel so isolated that they have negotiated telephone allowances into their job contracts to help them stay in touch with blacks teaching at other campuses around the country. "Coming to work every day is like putting on your armor," says Jim Johnson, an associate professor of geography at the University of California, Los Angeles, where the 1,837-member faculty has just 38 blacks.
Corporate affirmative action has helped speed the integration of management -- but at a cost. While such programs have helped blacks break through hiring barriers, many whites insist that their promotions are the result of special treatment. "People always say, 'He got that because he's black,' " says Bernard Kinsey, a Xerox vice president since 1983. "It's frustrating to never get the recognition for having done something." African-American executives contend that their qualifications and performance often exceed those of the whites they are competing against. Says NBC's Gilbert: "We don't give these people enough credit. Look at their backgrounds. They would have been success stories even if there were no affirmative action."