Life atop the crystal stair.

Rising to the executive suite may seem lofty. These top decision makers tell what price they have to pay for success.

SOME SAY THE ROUTE TO the upper climes of corporate America is along a crystal stair--a path filled with bountiful salaries, chauffeured cars and other lavish appointments. But missing from this fairy tale are the jagged edges beneath the beautiful, multifaceted facade. And for all its inviting color, reflection and abundance of light, there is very little heat. But for African Americans, there is often no wizard, Prince Charming or fairy godmother to help ease the way. It can be a lonely, cold ascent taken by an African American executive, who inevitably may by stopped at the glass ceiling.

For the few who have made it, their greatest challenge, they say, has been making their organizations acknowledge the value of their skills and contributions. The pioneering African Americans who integrated corporate America during the '70s did so by working hard and not wearing their race on their sleeve. Nonetheless, for many of them the turned cheek was met with slaps to their intelligence and authority, underscored by a struggle for pay parity with their white counterparts.

For the next generation of black executives to succeed in the midst of this anti-affirmative action zeitgeist, they must understand that justifying their worth will be the norm. And a steady flow of black talent into the corporate pipeline will be the exception, unless a "lift-as-we-climb" attitude is embraced by businesses and those black executives already there.

TALLYING THE GAINS

As these first generation black corporate executives reach the 20-year pinnacle of their careers, a mounting body of evidence has surfaced proving that while some strides have been made, black executives have essentially been limited by their race. In 1996, the Federal Glass Ceiling Commission found that African Americans hold fewer than 5% of executive, administrative and managerial jobs in all private sector industries, and only 0.6% of senior executive slots.

Those executives who have moved steadily up the ladder within America's largest corporations have gained increased compensation, influence and status, pushing the "glass ceiling" ever higher. While many of the positions bestowed on them were disproportionately in affirmative action, personnel and public, urban and community affairs-a select few broke through to land positions in finance: sales and marketing. Yet, while ultimate power is still wielded by the "old boy network," senior black managers--through performance and their sheer presence--continue to help redefine the paradigms of corporate culture.

No executive has probably done more to change corporate thinking than Darwin N. Davis Sr. Over the past 32 years, the senior vice president at The Equitable Life Assurance Society in New York has been a stalwart at bringing the virtues of the African American client and employee to the corporate fore. "I have never hesitated in bringing the black perspective to the table and the company expects that from me," says Davis, 65, who will retire this July. "I didn't start out intending to do that, but as a black executive, I was thrust into that role. It wasn't always comfortable, but it was necessary."

Those executives with the courage to take risks and carve out a place on the corporate mantle say that having their voices heard and valued is one of the greatest rewards. "I can pick up the phone and call the chairman. My counsel is often sought and my responses have been incorporated into the bigger picture and thinking," says Paula Banks, president of the Amoco Foundation Inc., the $24 million philanthropy arm of Amoco Corp. in Chicago. Banks, who joined Amoco in 1996 and also serves as manager of corporate community relations and marketing communications, spent 24 years with Sears, Roebuck & Co. "I am invited into the fold because I am a black woman who has done her homework and can offer a different perspective. The challenge is to never get confused about who is in charge. It's not about you and your perceived power; it's about the company. As soon as the person gets confused, they get in trouble."

SURVIVAL TRAINING

In a recent study of 111 black top corporate executives conducted by the Kimbro Institute in Decatur, Georgia, success for these individuals was defined as "having obtained the ability to affect change and the capacity to enjoy their work." Those profiled reflect career moves that have been propelled by a desire for increased responsibility and challenge. Undaunted, they took the risks that eventually lead to high visibility or promotions. Working between 55 and 62 hours a week, their average age is 46 and most of their careers have been spent in sales or marketing.

The most important factors cited for their success were hard work and aligning with the right people. Racial discrimination, company mergers and reorganizations were perceived as the principal threats. Sadly, many believe that with the political climate the way it is, their successor will neither be black nor female.

In 1986, Roland Baker stood at the helm of The Signature Group, a direct-marketing insurance subsidiary of Montgomery Ward and Co. He graced the July 1986 cover of BLACK ENTERPRISE magazine, and for four years his company was one of the leading performers in the Mobil Oil hierarchy. Confident with his performance in leading the $600 million company and its 1,200 employees, he had no need to worry--or so he thought--when, in 1987, he was called into the, office of the newly-appointed president of Montgomery Ward. After 15 minutes of small talk, Baker was told that "changes needed to be made" at the Signature Group. One of chose changes included his dismissal. "I was told that I was too independent and acting as though I wanted to `run the company,' which is what I thought I was supposed to be doing," says Baker.

Oftentimes, strong leadership that is lauded in others is viewed pejoratively in African Americans. "Some of the most seemingly confident white CEOs are uncomfortable working with minorities. It's like the first confrontation between a white police officer and a black teenager: each thinks the other is hostile and a tension builds," notes Baker, 59. Today, as president at First Penn-Pacific Life Insurance Co., part of Lincoln National Corp. in Oakbrook Terrace, Illinois, Baker warns that minorities should not walk into a situation automatically assuming bigotry. "People sense it and get nervous. It also makes it impossible to lead others and your superiors will not trust you enough to give you the assignments that will help you get ahead."

But for some, racial bias is a reality. Davis remembers a superior who he unabashedly refers to as a "bigot." It was clear that under him Davis would never be promoted. "I realized that I couldn't fight every day and that I had to get around him, but he was my boss and controlled my life." Davis went to the CEO of the company to tell him of his plight--a move he does not suggest for all. It resulted in a veiled threat from the accused manager that Davis better watch his back. Months later the manager was dismissed for other reasons, but Davis learned something in the process. "I realized that I had to dot all the "I's" and cross all the "T's". If I was going to be unfairly judged, I would use him to make myself a better manager, correct the glitches in my personality and make myself infallible."

As black executives scale the higher echelons of corporate America, the air gets thin and they struggle to play down the "only" and "first" factors. "When I first entered the organization, I was viewed as a novelty and drew a lot of attention without even trying," says Ursula Burns, vice president and general manager of departmental copier business at Xerox in Rochester, New York, who joined the company as an intern in 1980. With a degree in mechanical engineering, the native New Yorker quickly learned that the general consensus was that African Americans--not to mention African American women--are not viewed as being as competent as whites. "But the awe that people have over my achievements translates either into `I'm super brilliant' or `I must have floated through.' I can't just be a regular employee, and that is an insult," notes Burns. Throughout her career, Burns has served as assistant to the chairman, was on international assignment in London for two years and currently oversees a $3 billion unit--Xerox s largest.

As if that is not enough, the 39-year-old Burns was recently elected to the elite group of Xerox corporate vice presidents, a coveted seat of policy decision making held only by 40 other individuals. "Being a black woman is who I am and I can't control that. But being the youngest person to pass through all the gates is what I did have control over," says Burns. "The fact that I did it faster than others has nothing to do with my race and gender. It was my performance." Despite the fact that the coveted title was also bestowed upon three white men, she still hears the whispers of detractors who say she took the position

Unfortunately, there are chose who find it too difficult to walk the executive tightrope. Sylvester Green, senior vice president and managing director at Chubb & Son Inc. in White Plains, New York, says that one of the gravest mistakes black managers make is to blame others when things go wrong rather than recognizing where they could have done things differently. "People should not take themselves too seriously. They end up leaving the company without asking questions and finding out where the real problems are," says Green, 57, who has seen many African American managers succeed and fail during his 33 years with the firm. He warns that black managers must choose their battles carefully. "When you do, and stand behind them with evidence to support it, you gain tremendous credibility."

A DOLLAR SHORT

While some highly-qualified executives have found few roadblocks along their career path, for most promotions are few and far between. Sometimes these obstacles present themselves in subtle ways, such as being given a lackluster assignment, a marked depreciation in workload or "new" positions created above that others are brought in to fill. Ultimately, few African American heir apparents get their chance at holding the brass ring--as was the case for A. Barry Rand, Xerox executive vice president of operations and one of the highest-ranking black executives in corporate America. Last June, Rand was bypassed when G. Richard Thoman, formerly of I.B.M., was brought in as Xerox president and chief operating officer.

And he is not alone. "This company has never considered me for the position of chief insurance officer, and I have dealt with that. I always know that the glass ceiling is there because racism catches up with your successes," says Davis, who has been one of the company's top performers and recipient of every management award given at Equitable--a laurel held by only one other headquarters officer--the chief of insurance operations.

But even when opportunities are seized and promotions come frequently, perhaps the area of most disparity is in compensation and severance packages. Executive pay can include lucrative six- or seven-digit salaries, stock options, access to corporate jets and membership in exclusive clubs. While that might sound glamorous, the Federal Glass Ceiling Commission reports that black men at the top of management earn 79% of what white men earn and black women in those roles earn only 60% of what their white male counterparts earn.

"The salaries are lower partly because there are so few of us up there with those titles, and the black executives have less to leverage," says Will Gates, a Los Angeles senior associate at Korn/Ferry International, the world's largest retained executive search firm. "When African Americans sit down to negotiate, there is the lure and the thought that they are getting ahead fast, and they may not go in with the poker face that they should have."

Davis, who says that even as a senior vice president he suspects that he makes less than his colleagues, echoes this sentiment. "You don't get what you deserve, you get what you negotiate," he says. The issue of compensation is not so far from how African American executives must maneuver in all aspects of their careers each day, adds Gates. "There is always a struggle for legitimacy. The way that affirmative action is couched, these executives must perform above and beyond what is expected in order to be treated on parity with lessors."

STAYING AHEAD OF THE PAST

Sharon Collins, an associate professor of sociology at the University of Illinois in Chicago, says in order to remain competitive, the next generation of executives must meld the lessons learned yesterday with the corporate strategies of today.

The first step is to learn how to "read" a company. "Find out who gets ahead and how, then try to replicate the process," notes Collins. "Learn what is rewarded and desired by the company and give it to them." African Americans are inherently "outsiders." The ability to appeal across race and gender lines and transcend those barriers--given the race-conscious nature of the American society--is difficult but critical.

Part of the success of trailblazers was their ability to maneuver through the labyrinths of their organizations. Black executives should avoid or move out of support areas. Performance standards in support jobs are tied to subjective rather than quantified measures, such as profit, sales or production figures. Playing a soft role in a hard and increasingly competitive environment is not how to put "points on the board."

Do not get comfortable, however, warns Collins, who spent nearly a decade studying the black corporate elite in Fortune 500 companies and authored the book Black Corporate Executive: The Making and Breaking of a Black Middle Class (Temple University Press; $22.95). "Black executives should be prepared to move up on the open market rather than stick around and make a life-long commitment to a company."

Similarly, they should be proactive and entrepreneurial rather than conforming to the old models of "team player" and "company person." Their performance must stand out, she adds, and they must learn how to aggressively promote themselves in order to accumulate career opportunities both inside and outside the company.

But in the end, it all boils down to the following questions: Do black executives lack support from each other, the most basic of foundations? Many would argue that the summon to "lift as we climb" falls on a tone-deaf flock. "In the 1960s, pressure from black constituencies on corporations created new opportunities that we exploited. Times have changed, says Collins. Since blacks are vastly under represented in the executive ranks, the concept of 'similar treatment' has vastly different group consequences today that are not always fair. Solidarity between blacks both inside and outside the corporate walls will at least ensure some level of equity. "Real gains, knowledge, push and commitment in the future must come from us," warns Chubb's Green, also a member of the Executive Leadership Council, a national organization of top African American executives.

Yes, over the years, African Americans have been viewed more favorably in the workplace. "Verbal slights, insults and overt prejudice was more the norm of a generation ago. But where there were once these crimes of commission, there are more crimes of omission," adds Gates. In other words, affirmative action at least forced corporate America to recognize the abilities and contributions of blacks. But as the "A" in affirmative action grows more scarlet, African Americans must find more astute ways to get in the door and move up. More importantly, if companies truly live up to their diversity mission statements, African Americans might find the glass at the top of the crystal stair a little easier to break.