When race enters boardroom, 'Apprentice' really heats up

African-American contestants haven't made much of a splash in reality television over the years. But that was before Omarosa Manigault-Stallworth made her debut on NBC's Donald Trump workplace show, "The Apprentice," three weeks ago.

Stallworth is one of 16 contestants vying for a job working for Trump. But unlike the other participants, Stallworth's behavior has generated more messages on the NBC website than anyone else's -- more than 14,000 so far.

Online, she's been described as a "shrew," "detached from reality," "playing the race card," a "dominating personality," and "intimidating." Her defenders have depicted her as "intelligent," "aggressive," and as someone who "would work better with men."

Workplace diversity experts have also taken notice and plan to tune in tonight at 9 (Channel 7) for the next episode.

What's so intriguing about the 29-year-old political consultant from Washington, D.C.?

To put it mildly, she's outspoken and frosty. She often disagrees with her female teammates. She's a provocative dresser. She's confident and educated. And she's making news because she's dared to suggest that some of her white female teammates can't handle working with a strong black woman. Several of them have cursed and screamed at her on camera since then.

Is this just drama manufactured for TV? Or is the strong reaction to Stallworth providing a window into today's workplace and the consequences of not assimilating?

Opinions vary.

Clearly, no one likes "boorish behavior," said David Thomas, a professor of organizational behavior and human resource management at Harvard Business School and author of "Breaking Through: The Making of Minority Executives in Corporate America." But being "in-your-face" is especially likely to be an unsuccessful strategy for African-American professionals, said Thomas, who has seen the show.

"When you're in groups with people who aren't used to working in diverse environments, then outspoken behavior is often amplified in the minds of other group members," he said. "Even if you're right, people are usually waiting for the opportunity to bring about your demise."

But in 2004, why must an aggressive woman tone it down? If NBC "could disguise her, maybe with a different skin color and a male voice, would we react the same way?" asked Jane C. Edmonds, director of Workforce Development for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

Adverse reaction to Stallworth is a "reflection of the same issue we have in society. We've not yet overcome our race-relations problem," said Edmonds, who describes herself as an "Apprentice" fan.

She watches with mixed emotions. "There's a part of me that cheers and applauds -- Go for it honey! She's bold and brash and sometimes belligerent. I want her to have the true freedom to be who she is," Edmonds said. "There's another part of me that's equally strong that would say to her if I knew her, `Can we talk? . . . Honey, you are on a collision course.' When you play that race card, you'll have a hard time being taken seriously, even if you're right."

To be sure, only NBC's producers know if viewers are even seeing the real Stallworth. "I think the producers cast these shows looking for certain types who'll become lightning rods," said Patricia A. Turner, a professor of African-American studies at the University of California at Davis. "They need something to sustain viewers' interest. I don't think it's an authentic representation of what happens day to day in most of the offices we work in."

Harvard's Thomas said Stallworth may be treating the show as one big audition. "These reality TV shows have probably been more successful than any agent in Hollywood at creating new media personalities who start to show up at all kinds of places, from commercials to the Super Bowl," he said.

Who would hire her?

"Another TV show that needs a lightning rod," he said, like Simon Cowell of "American Idol."

"The Apprentice" is coproduced by Mark Burnett, the same man who created CBS's successful program "Survivor." Some of the villains from that show, such as Richard Hatch, have gone on to be household names.

Since its launch Jan. 8, "The Apprentice" has generated huge ratings for NBC. During its first two weeks, the program drew 19.2 million viewers, making it the number three show on the network behind "Friends" and "ER." Last week, viewership dropped to 12.3 million when NBC moved the show to Wednesday night. The network has since pushed the show back to Thursdays.

Stallworth is not the only person of color on the show. Tammy Lee is an Asian-American stockbroker from Seattle. Kwame Jackson is an African-American New York resident who was most recently an investment manager on Wall Street. Neither have had any noteworthy conflicts with teammates. Both, however, appear to have quieter personalities.

Not Stallworth.

Last week, she told teammate Katrina Campins that she didn't sign up for the show to make friends. "I said that from day one. . . . If you would all stop being so freakin' sensitive. . ."

Campins responded by telling her to shut up.

Michelle Johnson, 33, a Weymouth resident and office manager, said she was initially a big fan of Stallworth's. "Although she was aloof and not a team player, I could respect that. She lost me when she played the race card. I think she was just looking for a fight. I don't think race is a factor at all."

Kelly Cook, 32, a Cambridge resident who works as an assistant to a financial analyst, said a woman like Stallworth would be despised in her workplace. "She's very, very abrasive. She's not interested in what others think of her. She can't take any kind of criticism. She's very disruptive."

Looking ahead, how will the female team survive? Perhaps Trump -- who plays the role of "master" on "The Apprentice" -- has the best advice.

In last week's episode, he described business negotiation as a "very, very delicate art. Sometimes, you have to be tough. Sometimes, you have to be sweet as pie. You never know. It depends on who you're dealing with."

But Stallworth has her own ideas. Last week, she walked out of a team meeting when she discovered she was the topic of discussion. "I don't want to be the punching bag of this group," she said.

To make it easy for everybody, she said, "Blame me. Blame it all on me."

Suzanne Ryan can be reached at sryan@globe.com