It Wasn’t About Race. Or Was It?

Jack Parsons put the phone back on its cradle and pressed his fingers to his temples. This wasn’t his first crisis as managing partner of the Northeast office of Fuller Fenton, a national accounting firm, but it was a doozy. That was his 11th phone call about what had happened the day before between Hope Barrows and Dillon Johnson, two hard-working, valuable members of the firm. And he was certain that the deluge was just beginning. Each caller had been very upset, and it was painfully clear that no one was willing to back down. The firm—or at least all the people under Jack’s purview—seemed to be splitting into two angry camps. He thought back to the first phone call he’d received, at 7:30 that morning, from an associate who had talked to Dillon the night before. “I always suspected this was a racist organization masquerading as a ‘good’ company,” the caller railed at him. “I’m sick about this, and I’m telling you, so are a lot of other people. We won’t work in a racist environment!” The last call had been equally charged but on a different tack. The caller was a female partner whom Jack had known for years. “This had nothing to do with race. Nothing at all!” she practically shouted. “If a woman can’t feel safe in the parking lot of her own company, that’s pretty sad.” The story was really quite simple—the basic facts weren’t in dispute. Hope, a partner at Fuller Fenton, had gone to the office Sunday afternoon to get a jump on the workweek, as she often did. When she arrived at the parking garage, she swiped her access card and the exterior door opened. As she drove up to the inner gate—the usual point of security during business hours, when the garage door was open—Dillon pulled in under the exterior door as it was closing. Hope stopped at the gate and, instead of swiping her card, got out of her car and walked over to Dillon. She asked who he was and whether he belonged in the building. Dillon told her he was an associate at Fuller Fenton. Hope asked to see his identification, and he showed her his card. Hope thanked him, went back to her car, and entered the garage. Hope was white. Dillon was black. Somehow the incident, as small as it seemed, had started a storm that was threatening to tear the company in two. And it was only Monday afternoon. It certainly hadn’t taken long for things to heat up. Jack pressed his fingers harder into his temples and let out a small groan. Dillon had been on the phone to him from San Francisco at 5 am Pacific time. He had flown there the night before to meet with a client. He’d been up most of the night. He was angry—appalled. He said the incident, as far as he was concerned, was an indication that the firm was racially biased. Judging from the calls Jack had received, most of the firm’s African-American partners and associates agreed. Jack had asked Dillon to tell him exactly what happened. Dillon said he was working out at his health club when he got a call on his cell phone from a fellow associate, Shaun Daniels. The two had planned to meet at the office later that afternoon to review the file for Dillon’s San Francisco client. Shaun asked if they could push up their meeting because he had to be somewhere at 4 pm . Dillon was grateful Shaun had agreed to meet with him on a Sunday, and he knew they had several hours of work to get through, so he rushed from the gym and drove to the office. He pulled into the driveway of Fuller Fenton’s garage behind a red Volvo. The car just seemed to be parked at the door. “I remember thinking, ‘What’s taking this person so long to swipe their card?’” he told Jack. “Then I thought, ‘Where’s my card?’ and I started looking through the pile of clothes on the passenger seat for my wallet. “Then the door opened, the Volvo went through, and I didn’t even think; I just followed,” Dillon continued. “Then the car stopped again. I thought, ‘What is this?’ and I tried to see who was in the car. I could see it was a woman, and she was looking at me in her rearview mirror. So I waved. And waited. “She gets out of her car, comes over to me, and asks me if I work in the building. I say yes, and she asks me for my identification. I recognized her, you know—didn’t know her name, but I’d seen her in the building. “I was confused. I didn’t know what the problem was. Then I realized that she thought I had slipped through the door behind her because I was some sort of criminal. I’m black; she’s white. Most people at the company are white. Case closed, in her mind.” “What happened next?” Jack prompted. “I told her my name,” Dillon said. “I found my wallet and showed her my identification. But Jack, I have to tell you, at that moment, all I could think was that this wasn’t the first time I’d been made to feel like an outsider at this company because I’m black. When I signed on, I heard a lot of talk about how Fuller Fenton was reinventing itself as an incredibly diverse, versatile organization. But my experience tells a different story. “My first week here, one of the administrative assistants saw the wedding photo I have on my desk. She looked really surprised, and then she said, ‘Your wife is very light skinned.’ “I laughed and said something like, ‘Amy is white.’ But the look I got? It was disapproving, almost like she was disgusted.” Dillon’s voice trailed off. Then he said, “I know I could cut her some slack. She’s one of the older assistants, and she’s been here a long time. But it stung. She hasn’t talked to me directly since.” He was quiet for another moment. Jack waited. “That was the smallest incident,” Dillon said. “After four months here, remember I was going to be on the team for that consumer goods company in Texas? I was put on and taken off within 48 hours. I found out—actually just last night, when I was venting to a colleague about this incident—that the partner heading the team was worried a black face would put the client off.” Jack shook his head; of course, Dillon couldn’t see him, but he answered as if he had. “Jack, I know it’s true. And maybe the guy had a point—that client is a very old-line kind of company. But still, if this company is serious about diversity, is that any way to behave? That’s not the kind of company I thought I was joining. And it’s certainly not the kind of company I’m going to keep working for.” Jack knew the last story was correct. In fact, he’d argued with the partner about the way Dillon was treated. And he’d hoped, at the time, that it would be just one of those things and that he could work to prevent it from happening again. “I called four or five colleagues last night,” Dillon continued. “I asked them if I was imagining this. They all said no. This time it can’t just be water under the bridge, Jack.” Jack reassured Dillon as best he could. He told Dillon he was a valued employee and that he’d do some digging, that they would all work to resolve the situation. As soon as he hung up the phone, he called Hope and left a message asking her to come see him. “I tried to call you earlier,” Hope said when she entered Jack’s office. “I’ve heard a lot of rumors going around about what happened yesterday, and I have to tell you, I’m shocked—totally shocked. I didn’t ask for Dillon Johnson’s identification because he was black. I asked for it because I was freaked out that a man was following me into the garage—a man who didn’t seem to have an access card of his own. “I was only concerned for my own safety,” she said. “He could have been white, or purple, for all I cared. I thought there was a good chance I was going to be robbed. Or raped. Asking for his identification was the fair thing to do.” Hope took a deep breath and told Jack the story from the beginning. She often came into the office on Sundays, she explained. She liked the quiet; she got a lot done. She knew that at least a few other people felt the same way. Occasionally she would see other cars in the lot, and sometimes she would see people coming or going. But she didn’t recognize Dillon’s car, and she didn’t recognize Dillon. “What was he thinking, Jack?” she asked, indignant. “I’m not the one who was insensitive here. Dillon Johnson was insensitive to me by ‘piggybacking’ behind me when I opened the garage door. Didn’t he know that any woman would feel vulnerable, and potentially threatened, if any man—or anybody, truth be told—evaded security measures to follow her into a deserted garage? Why didn’t he just wait the extra 15 seconds and use his own card?” “You know, I really never should have gotten out of my car,” she chided herself. “I should have just called security. But I was thinking, ‘Better to confront him now than to put myself in possible jeopardy deep in the garage with no one else around.’ “To be honest with you, I was also thinking about two of my friends who have been mugged. One in a parking garage, the other on a subway platform. Neither was hurt. Well, my friend Alice strained her back trying to twist away from the subway mugger, but she got off easy, considering. And I was thinking about what my husband said to me, two years ago now, when I started coming in here on Sundays. He asked me if I was sure that it was safe to come in when the building was deserted. He asked me to carry my cell phone at all times.” Hope paused, then continued, smiling. “I laughed at my husband when he said that,” she said. “He grew up in Manhattan.” Her smile faded. “I did have my cell phone in my hand when I got out of the car,” she said. “I had punched in 911, and my finger was on the send button. “I didn’t recognize him,” she said again. “I didn’t recognize his car. He was wearing a T-shirt. Not that that matters, really. No one dresses up here on Sundays. Still, no one usually wears T-shirts, either. I did feel a little silly, at one point, before I got out of the car. I mean, I was telling myself that whoever it was was just coming in to work and had been too lazy to get out his card. But scared overruled silly. “And in no way—no way—was I acting out of any racial prejudice. Come on, Jack, this guy has some personal chip on his shoulder, and he’s putting all his baggage on me. I was scared, for God’s sake.” Jack listened and, at the end of the meeting, told Hope he would think about what to do. It was clear, he said, that she and Dillon should sit down in the same room to discuss the issue. He would set up the meeting and get back to her. Meanwhile, he told her, he did see her point. Not to worry about that. For the rest of the morning and early afternoon, Jack fielded angry calls. He also called the human resources department and set up a meeting with Hope, Dillon, himself, and the regional HR director for Wednesday morning at 10, as soon as Dillon returned from San Francisco. He just hoped he could hold things together until then. He would, of course, continue to field calls and try to calm people down as best he could. But what else could he do? For that matter, what was he going to do at the meeting? What is Jack’s next step? Robin Ely is a visiting associate professor at Harvard Business School in Boston, on leave from Columbia University’s School of International and Public Affairs in New York. Charges of racism and sexism can, and often do, clash. And all too often the upshot is something I call the Oppression Olympics—a competition over who has suffered the greater injury, the victim of racism or the victim of sexism. Hope Barrows would not have been afraid but for her knowledge of the frequency with which violence is perpetrated by men against women. Dillon Johnson would not have been insulted but for his knowledge of the negative stereotypes that whites have been acculturated to hold about blacks, black men in particular. The problem is, it’s virtually never productive to engage in a dispute that centers on whose concern has greater legitimacy. That’s why Jack Parsons needs to push any conversation between Hope and Dillon beyond the actual scene in the parking lot. He needs to acknowledge the underlying currents that made this incident so emotionally charged to help each understand the other’s actions and reactions. But Jack should mostly focus on addressing the larger issue at hand. It’s clear that the incident in the parking lot is much larger than a conflict between two people. The other employees’ reactions to the incident—their swift moves to accusation and defense—suggest an organizational culture rife with racial tension. What’s more, the firm’s black and white partners have very different and apparently heretofore undiscussed perspectives on the role race plays in the firm. Jack needs to use this event as the catalyst for action on an organizational scale. “The incident in the parking lot is much larger than a conflict between two people. The other employees’ reactions to the incident…suggest an organizational culture rife with racial tension.” To do that, he must first meet with Hope and Dillon, making clear to them that he sees the incident as indicative of a larger problem within the firm and that he intends to address it as such. Then he should allow each to tell his or her story to the other, without interruption, including—and this is very important—the historical context within which each experienced the event. For Hope, this would include her experience as a woman, with reasonable fears, based on known events, of violence perpetrated by men against women. For Dillon, it would include his experience as a black man, with reasonable concerns, based on his own and others’ experiences, that white people might be acting on the negative stereotypes they often hold about black men. If Hope and Dillon can see each other’s behavior as reasonable in the given context, they should be able to stop blaming and judging each other. Next, Jack should implement an organizational intervention. It would begin with an investigation of how members of different racial and ethnic groups experience their work and relationships in the firm. Then there would be a set of facilitated conversations in which employees would learn the results of the investigation and discuss them within and across racial groups. For the organizational effort to work, Jack and the other senior managers must make clear to employees that conversations about the role race (and for that matter, other cultural identities) plays in the firm are legitimate and encouraged. They should discuss publicly their own experiences and share what they have learned throughout the process. Finally, they should take every opportunity to tie these efforts to the work of the organization—to articulate how the learning that comes from, and facilitates, better race relations among employees creates a more effective workforce and advances the organization’s mission. Let me be clear about this organizational effort. The primary goal is not for white people to learn how to be more sensitive in interactions with their colleagues of color. Nor is it for people of color to learn how to be less sensitive to perceived slights so that they might be less likely to be derailed by them. Nor is it for Fuller Fenton to ensure that such events never occur again—though there may well be gains in all these areas. The goal is for all employees to learn how to discuss these events openly and constructively, with as little defensiveness, blame, and judgment as possible, when they do occur. Because in a culture such as ours, these kinds of events undoubtedly will occur, no matter how sensitized or desensitized people may become. Vernā Myers is the principal at Vernā Myers & Associates, a diversity management consultancy in Newton, Massachusetts, that specializes in professional service organizations. Jack should be curious: why would a bright, hardworking, assimilated young African-American man risk angrily confronting the managing partner over an incident that seems fairly innocuous? Usually when people get to the point of speaking with the managing partner, something is really wrong. Jack should realize that Hope’s slight was the straw that broke Dillon’s back. A series of small incidents, or “microgressions,” can sometimes be as serious as larger, more blatant examples of bias. They create a sense of exclusion, foster isolation, make it difficult for people to fully commit to their organizations, and add psychological burdens that affect performance. Jack needs to address not only this incident but also the larger issues it raises. “Hope’s slight was the straw that broke Dillon’s back. A series of small incidents, or ‘microgressions,’ can sometimes be as serious as larger, more blatant examples of bias.” The meeting on Wednesday should help Dillon and Hope understand the feelings, thoughts, and experiences that informed each other’s actions. They don’t need to agree about what happened, but they do need to be willing to see each other’s side. (If Jack’s HR person doesn’t have experience facilitating racially charged discussions, he needs to bring in someone who does. A skilled facilitator will make sure that each tells his or her story without interruption or accusation.) Hope needs to hear about the many times Dillon has felt humiliated because of his race and how this incident made him feel about his workplace. Dillon needs to tell her about being bumped off the Texas team. And Hope needs to tell Dillon about her girlfriends who have been mugged and her husband’s concerns. He needs to hear how it feels to be a woman, alone and vulnerable. My guess is Hope will find it hard to even consider that some part of her reaction to Dillon may have been based on our society’s racist messages about black men. A real solution depends on how willing each is to listen to the other and examine his or her own assumptions. Beyond the meeting, Jack needs to assess the extent of the racial biases in his organization. He should start by speaking with Dillon and other African-Americans at the firm, saying something like: “I’m really disturbed by the things I’ve heard today. I want to believe that it’s different here, but I want to know from you what it is like to work here.” Then he should assemble a racially mixed group of people from different functions and levels of the firm to take a good look at Fuller Fenton’s policies and practices—large and small, formal and informal. Do they support or create (subtly or overtly) barriers to the recruitment, retention, and advancement of African-Americans and other people of color? This diversity task force should suggest ways to change the culture, such as providing opportunities for people to discuss racial and other issues of difference honestly. The process will be successful only if Jack openly champions it as an issue vital to the firm’s well-being and longevity. There’s no way that the firm will be able to wipe out racism or prevent every incident of insensitivity, but it should be able to build a system that is aligned with its commitment to diversity and that provides channels for reporting and resolving issues that do come up. Of course, I can’t be sure if Jack is up to the task. Is he willing to take risks, make the time, or allocate the resources necessary? Does he understand how racism operates on the interpersonal, institutional, and societal level? His inaction with regard to the Texas team leads me to believe that he has blinders on, lacks the skill to address racial issues, or lacks the courage to confront them. If that is the case, my only comment to him is, “Jack, you say that you want a diverse and inclusive organization, but what are you willing to do to achieve it?” One final note for Dillon. If Dillon senses that Jack’s response to him is intended to smooth things over and stop there, he has a tough decision to make—stay with the devil he knows or move to the devil he doesn’t. He will need to do his research well because despite their talk, very few large accounting firms employ more people of color or are better at diversity than Fuller Fenton. An African-American man is not expected to be there and that has to do with racism, but it is also a reality. Regardless of whether Dillon goes or stays, he will need to create a multiracial support network of peers and mentors who can help him succeed. John Borgia has been executive vice president of human resources at the Seagram Company for the past five years. Previously, he worked at Bristol-Myers Squibb for 25 years in various operations, finance, and human resource positions. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jack is thinking: “I wish Hope had had the presence of mind to say more than ‘Thank you’ after she checked Dillon’s ID card. I wish she’d said something like, ‘Oh, hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Hope. Sorry we had to meet like this; I got scared when I saw that someone had slipped in behind me instead of using their own card to get in. Let’s get together for coffee sometime.’ A few pleasantries would have defused the situation, and I wouldn’t be sitting here in the middle of a hurricane.” I could understand that train of thought. I mean, the poor guy did just get blindsided with a Monday morning crisis. But what I hope Jack is thinking is: “Here’s my chance to make a real difference. It’s time for Fuller Fenton to embrace diversity—to take its place as a company that has broken free of its old traditions and prejudices. I’m going to use this crisis as a catalyst for change.” What am I talking about? Strategy. Dillon just learned he was bumped from a team because a partner had concerns that a client would be put off by the idea of working with a black man. Jack felt uncomfortable about that action at the time but didn’t take a stand. Now he should. He should use what happened between Hope and Dillon as a starting point for reexamining the kinds of clients Fuller Fenton takes on and the work that it will and will not do. It’s one thing to say that you want to embrace diversity. It’s quite another to deliver on that ideal. It would send a huge statement if Jack said publicly that Fuller Fenton won’t insult its own people to please clients—even if that means losing clients. Imagine the impact if Jack said, “There are enough clients out there; we don’t need that one.” I’m a big fan of resolving disputes one on one, with as little fanfare as possible. But I really don’t think that Dillon and Hope have a dispute. That’s why I don’t think Jack should meet with both of them on Wednesday. I would much rather see Jack meet privately with Dillon. At the meeting, he should say: “Look, this incident is nothing. Hope was frightened, as any woman would be, when she saw someone bypass the appropriate security protocols and follow her car into the garage. But you have good reason to be angry about the larger issue.” Then Jack should talk with Dillon about how Fuller Fenton is being run. And he should solicit Dillon’s support in outlining how the firm can become a better organization and a better place to work. Jack can call Hope—either before or after his meeting with Dillon—and tell her what’s going on and what’s going to come of the incident. There’s no need to involve her in this initial stage of his new initiative, though, unless she wants to get involved. “I’m a big fan of resolving disputes one on one, with as little fanfare as possible. But I really don’t think that Dillon and Hope have a dispute.” I work in New York City. We have detectors on every door here. A security breach is serious business. But for Fuller Fenton, the security breach is not the primary issue. The alleged dispute is a straw man. What’s really important is how Jack Parsons intends to run his office, and the influence he can—and should—have over the kind of firm Fuller Fenton becomes. Jeanette Millard is an organization development consultant in Boxborough, Massachusetts. Over the past decade, she has broadened her focus to include addressing the dynamics of racism, sexism, and heterosexism. On this particular Monday morning, Jack Parsons is getting the education of a lifetime. He is seeing firsthand the effects of years of institutional complacence and organizational neglect. He is learning that racism is more than a series of interpersonal events; it is a system. If you are white, chances are you’ve been conditioned not to see it. Jack certainly needs to respond to what happened between Hope and Dillon. But there’s a lot more brewing at Fuller Fenton than a few disgruntled employees. Jack needs to exercise leadership and address the organizational pattern of racial discrimination on both the micro and macro levels. I’ll start on the micro level. Talking with upset employees is a good start—but if that’s all Jack does, it will soon be perceived as collusion. Similarly, holding a meeting with Dillon and Hope is an important step. But watch out, Jack. If all you have to offer is a lame “I hear what you are both saying,” you might do more damage than good. Jack needs to understand that different things happened to Hope and Dillon, and thus different responses are called for. Hope’s situation is pretty straightforward. She had a serious moment of concern about her safety, and Jack should look into the Sunday security system. Hope doesn’t feel regularly at risk at Fuller Fenton—this was not one of a series of incidents for her at work. The security system now in place will, with some adjustments, work for Hope and others. But what happened to Dillon was part of a larger pattern of discrimination—and this is where Jack must broaden his response. Jack has seen overt discrimination at Fuller Fenton. Indeed, he witnessed an egregious event in which Dillon’s ability to do his job was directly and negatively affected by his race. Fuller Fenton put itself at risk in that situation; another employee might sue. Dillon’s most recent experience has served as a spotlight, illuminating the accumulation of grievances among people of color at Fuller Fenton. The best way to respond to Dillon, and to the firm at large, then, is to acknowledge the larger picture and to make a sincere commitment to rectify the situation. On the macro level, transforming an organization that has long-embedded prejudices into one that is actively inclusive takes planning, companywide education, and changes in structure and staffing. Jack may find the prospect of such an aggressive and thorough initiative daunting. But in an environment with a history of discrimination, moments like the exchange between Hope and Dillon are countless, and they fly like sparks into the tinderbox of a system that creates endless “incidents.” The time and energy required for such an effort is a much better investment, and much more satisfying, than fighting fire after inevitable fire. Returning to the micro level: Yes, Jack, start with that Wednesday meeting with Dillon and Hope. And yes, continue to talk with other employees—you can help them see the bigger picture. The only way to reconcile Hope and Dillon—and the other employees at Fuller Fenton who are now at odds—is to help each person see his or her colleagues as individuals as well as members of a group. Then they will better understand the other’s experiences and responses. In the hurried, stressful moment in the parking lot, Hope and Dillon reacted primarily to the other person’s membership in a dominant group: Hope knew—and drew on—the potential for male aggression; Dillon knew—and drew on—the reality of white dominance and the usual denial of that dominance. To understand Hope’s reaction, Dillon and others at Fuller Fenton who are up in arms over this incident must understand a woman’s fears and take them seriously. Conversely, Hope, as a well-intentioned white woman, may struggle with the notion of her white dominance (she has learned not to see it). Hope, and those who are siding with her, need to understand that there is more going on here than a chip on Dillon’s shoulder, and that they are all a part of it. “Addressing racism begins in earnest when white people stop insisting, ‘It wasn’t about race!’” But Jack, after these initial meetings, don’t let smoothed feathers lull you into thinking that you can avoid the larger issue. It is time to publicly address the existence of discrimination at Fuller Fenton, the need for change, and your own intent to lead the effort. Addressing racism begins in earnest when white people stop insisting, “It wasn’t about race!” It is time to look at the whole picture, not just the cause of the current sparks.

It Wasn’t About Race. Or Was It?

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