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A Year of Learning:
​Be Bold, Go Deep, and Speak Up

​

By Shilpa Pherwani
January 2019
Edited and abridged by Ann Moritz

As we reflect on a very productive year, we can’t ignore the hard questions – what is the impact of our work? Are we helping “move the needle” and make lasting change? What can we do differently to go deeper and help people and companies leverage the power of (DEI) diversity, equity and inclusion? With these questions in mind, here are key learnings from our work:

1. This is the time to show courage and be bold
Amri Johnson, a DEI leader at a pharmaceutical company, took the stage at a recent conference and hit the nail on the head, “So far, leaders have been managing risks, but it is time for them to TAKE risks. …Unless leaders have skin in the game, things will not change.” Beyond traditional ways we have been approaching DEI, we need innovative and bold solutions to gain more traction on outcomes. Last year Americans watched leaders from companies such as Starbucks, Nike and Merck take bold stances and creative action in response to perceived acts of bias and discrimination. This is the new normal and defines tomorrow’s expectations. No longer can leaders comfortably remain silent in the face of discrimination – and neither can bystanders.

2. Move beyond Diversity and Inclusion, to focus on Equity
We need a focus on equity to level the playing field. But not everyone understands what that word means, that it is more than the concept of equal. Think of “equal” as the idea that everyone gets a new pair of shoes, and it is size 8. “Equity” fits when everyone gets a new pair of shoes…that fit. Think of equity as the recognition that different people require different support to succeed. Understand that a one-size-fits-all approach does not work for everyone and different actions and support systems are needed to support different people.

3. Whether ally, co-conspirator, or accomplice – Be one
Many still perceive issues of inclusion to be a zero-sum game. If one group wins, the other loses. But that’s not how it works. An equitable, inclusive and diverse society is better for everyone. As one small example, look at the 15% increase in profit margin that companies with diverse leadership have, compared to those with homogenous leadership. The outcome is unmistakably better. We can’t get there, though, without the help of people who are allies: those from dominant groups who are willing to call out inequity, think creatively to address challenges, and fight for inclusion.
Some call for a different word than ally, one that propels people ‘to have skin in the game’ – co-conspirator, for example, or accomplice. We need to move beyond the “us vs. them” mentality to strategize ways to empower everyone. If you are in a dominant group, you need you to speak up against acts of discrimination, oppression, or bias against marginalized groups. Putting this work only on targeted groups themselves is not fair.

4. Unconscious Bias training is not enough. We need to go deeper.
Unconscious Bias has been a hot topic for organizational training for the past several years, yet. only scratches the surface. The conversations need to be bigger to result in meaningful change and transformation. Organizations to go deeper into difficult conversations related to common “isms” such as racism and sexism. This level of engagement often requires participants to lean into discomfort and recognize the impact of power and privilege. 

5. Take on systemic bias: rewire systems to rewire behaviors
With bias in systems, policies, and practices, the impact on changing individual behavior. Until organizations approach DEI work holistically and systemically, needles don’t move. Diversity, equity and inclusion must be embedded in every aspect of an organization. Every leader, manager and employee needs to be held accountable for their behaviors.

Shilpa Pherwani, the principal of IBIS and an organizational psychologist by training, is an expert in diversity and inclusion who has been guiding global organizations for over 16 years on leveraging diversity as a business advantage.
​
This piece has been abridged from a full article at:
http://www.ibisconsultinggroup.com/insight/year-learning-bold-go-deep-speak/
​

How White People Handle Diversity Training in the Workplace


Confronted with their own shortcomings, white employees often shut down the dialogue—or frame themselves as victims
Robin DiAngelo

As a former professor and current facilitator and consultant, I am in a position to give white people feedback on how their unintentional racism is manifesting itself. In this position, I have observed countless enactments of white fragility. One of the most common is outrage: “How dare you suggest that I could have said or done something racist!” Although these are unpleasant moments for me, they are also rather amusing. The reason I’m there in the first place is because I have been hired specifically to do just that; I have been asked to help the members of the organization understand why their workplace continues to remain white, why they are having so much trouble recruiting people of color, and/or why the people of color they hire don’t stay. They want to know what they are doing that is unsupportive to people of color.
At this point in my career, I rarely encounter the kind of open hostility that I was met with in my early days as a facilitator. I attribute this change to the years of experience behind my pedagogy. Of course, I am also white, which makes other white people much more receptive to the message. I am often amazed at what I can say to groups of primarily white people. I can describe our culture as white supremacist and say things like, “All white people are invested in and collude with the system of racism,” without my fellow white people running from the room or reeling from trauma. Naturally, I don’t walk in and lead with those statements; I strategically guide people to a shared understanding of what I mean by those claims. Still, white people tend to be more receptive to my presentation as long as it remains abstract. The moment I name some racially problematic dynamic or action happening in the room in the moment -- for example, “Sharon, may I give you some feedback? While I understand it wasn’t intentional, your response to Jason’s story invalidates his experience as a black man” -- white fragility erupts. Sharon defensively explains that she was misunderstood and then angrily withdraws, while others run in to defend her by reexplaining “what she really meant.” The point of the feedback is now lost, and hours must be spent repairing this perceived breach. And, of course, no one appears concerned about Jason. Shaking my head, I think to myself, “You asked me here to help you see your racism, but by god, I’d better not actually help you see your racism.”
The goal of my work is to make visible the inevitable racist assumptions held, and patterns displayed, by white people conditioned from living in a white supremacist culture. When these patterns are named or questioned, we have predictable responses. The responses begin with a set of unexamined assumptions, which, when questioned, trigger various emotions, which activate some expected behaviors. These behaviors are then justified by numerous claims. These responses, emotions, behaviors, and claims are illustrated in the following example of a recent eruption of white fragility.
I was co-leading a community workshop. Because an employer had not sponsored it, the participants had all voluntarily signed up and paid a fee to attend. For this reason, we could assume that they were open and interested in the content. I was working with a small group of white participants when a woman I will refer to as Eva stated that because she grew up in Germany, where she said there were no black people, she had learned nothing about race and held no racism. I pushed back on this claim by asking her to reflect on the messages she had received from her childhood about people who lived in Africa. Surely she was aware of Africa and had some impressions of the people there? Had she ever watched American films? If so, what impression did she get about African Americans? I also asked her to reflect on what she had absorbed from living in the U.S. for the last 23 years, whether she had any relationships with African Americans here, and if not, then why not.
We moved on, and I forgot about the interaction until Eva approached me after the workshop ended. She was furious and said that she had been deeply offended by our exchange and did not “feel seen.” “You made assumptions about me!” she said. I apologized and told her that I would never want her to feel unseen or invalidated. However, I also held to my challenge that growing up in Germany would not preclude her from absorbing problematic racial messages about black people. She countered by telling me that she had never even seen a black person “before the American soldiers came.” And when they did come, “all the German women thought them so beautiful that they wanted to connect with them.” This was her evidence that she held no racism. With an internal sigh of defeat, I gave up at that point and repeated my apology. We parted ways, but her anger was unabated.
A few months later, one of my co-facilitators contacted Eva to tell her about an upcoming workshop. Eva was apparently still angry. She replied that she would never again attend a workshop led by me. Notice that I did not tell Eva that she was racist or that her story was racist. But what I did do was challenge her self-image as someone exempt from racism. Paradoxically, Eva’s anger that I did not take her claims at face value surfaced within the context of a volunteer workshop on racism, which she ostensibly attended to deepen her understanding of racism.
White fragility functions as a form of bullying: “I am going to make it so miserable for you to confront me that you will simply back off.”
Another example: I am coaching a small group of white employees on how racism manifests in their workplace. One member of the group, Karen, is upset about a request from Joan, her only colleague of color, to stop talking over her. Karen doesn’t understand what talking over Joan has to do with race; she is an extrovert and tends to talk over everyone. I try to explain how the impact is different when we interrupt across race because we bring our histories with us. While Karen sees herself as a unique individual, Joan sees Karen as a white individual. Being interrupted and talked over by white people is not a unique experience for Joan, nor is it separate from the larger cultural context. Karen exclaims, “Forget it! I can’t say anything right, so I am going to stop talking!”
The episode highlights Karen’s white fragility. She is unable to see herself in racial terms. When she is pressed to do so, she refuses to engage further, positioning herself as the one being treated unfairly. In the post–civil rights era, we have been taught that racists are mean people who intentionally dislike others because of their race; a racist is consciously prejudiced and intends to be hurtful. Because this definition requires conscious intent, it exempts virtually all white people and functions beautifully to obscure and protect racism as a system in which we are all implicated. This definition also ensures that any suggestion of racially problematic behavior will trigger moral outrage and defense.
The large body of research on children and race demonstrates that children start to construct their ideas about race very early. Remarkably, a sense of white superiority and knowledge of racial power codes appear to develop as early as preschool. Professor of communications Judith Martin describes white children’s upbringing:
As in other Western nations, white children born in the United States inherit the moral predicament of living in a white supremacist society. Raised to experience their racially based advantages as fair and normal, white children receive little if any instruction regarding the predicament they face, let alone any guidance in how to resolve it. Therefore, they experience or learn about racial tension without understanding euro-Americans’ historical responsibility for it and knowing virtually nothing about their contemporary roles in perpetuating it.
Despite its ubiquity, white superiority is also unnamed and denied by most whites. If we become adults who explicitly oppose racism, as do many, we often organize our identity around a denial of our racially based privileges that reinforce racist disadvantage for others. What is particularly problematic about this contradiction is that white people’s moral objection to racism increases their resistance to acknowledging complicity with it. In a white supremacist context, white identity largely rests on a foundation of (superficial) racial tolerance and acceptance. We whites who position ourselves as liberal often opt to protect what we perceive as our moral reputations, rather than recognize or change our participation in systems of inequity and domination.
One way that whites protect their positions when challenged on race is to invoke the discourse of self-defense. Through this discourse, whites characterize themselves as victimized, slammed, blamed, and attacked. Whites who describe the interactions this way are responding to the articulation of counternarratives alone; no physical violence has ever occurred in any interracial discussion or training that I am aware of. These self-defense claims work on multiple levels. They identify the speakers as morally superior while obscuring the true power of their social positions. The claims blame others with less social power for their discomfort and falsely describe that discomfort as dangerous. The self-defense approach also reinscribes racist imagery. By positioning themselves as the victim of anti-racist efforts, they cannot be the beneficiaries of whiteness. Claiming that it is they who have been unfairly treated -- through a challenge to their position or an expectation that they listen to the perspectives and experiences of people of color -- they can demand that more social resources (such as time and attention) be channeled in their direction to help them cope with this mistreatment.
When I consult with organizations that want me to help them recruit and retain a more diverse workforce, I am consistently warned that past efforts to address the lack of diversity have resulted in trauma for white employees. This is literally the term used to describe the impact of a brief and isolated workshop: trauma. This trauma has required years of avoiding the topic altogether, and although the business leaders feel they are ready to begin again, I am cautioned to proceed slowly and be careful. Of course, this white racial trauma in response to equity efforts has also ensured that the organization has remained overwhelmingly white.
The language of violence that many whites use to describe anti-racist endeavors is not without significance, as it is another example of how white fragility distorts reality. By employing terms that connote physical abuse, whites tap into the classic story that people of color (particularly African Americans) are dangerous and violent. In so doing, whites distort the real direction of danger between whites and others. This history becomes profoundly minimized when whites claim they don’t feel safe or are under attack when they find themselves in the rare situation of merely talking about race with people of color. The use of this language of violence illustrates how fragile and ill-equipped most white people are to confront racial tensions and their subsequent projection of this tension onto people of color.
A cogent example of white fragility occurred during a workplace anti-racism training I co-facilitated with an interracial team. One of the white participants left the session and went back to her desk, upset at receiving (what appeared to the training team as) sensitive and diplomatic feedback on how some of her statements had impacted several of the people of color in the room. At break, several other white participants approached me and my fellow trainers and reported that they had talked to the woman at her desk and that she was very upset that her statements had been challenged. (Of course, “challenged” was not how she phrased her concern. It was framed as her being “falsely accused” of having a racist impact.) Her friends wanted to alert us to the fact that she was in poor health and “might be having a heart attack.”
Upon questioning from us, they clarified that they meant this literally. These co-workers were sincere in their fear that the young woman might actually die as a result of the feedback. Of course, when news of the women’s potentially fatal condition reached the rest of the participant group, all attention was immediately focused back onto her and away from engagement with the impact she had on the people of color. As professor of social work Rich Vodde states, “If privilege is defined as a legitimization of one’s entitlement to resources, it can also be defined as permission to escape or avoid any challenges to this entitlement.”
Let me be clear: While the capacity for white people to sustain challenges to our racial positions is limited -- and, in this way, fragile -- the effects of our responses are not fragile at all; they are quite powerful, because they take advantage of historical and institutional power and control. We wield this power and control in whatever way is most useful in the moment to protect our positions. If we need to cry so that all the resources rush back to us and attention is diverted away from a discussion of our racism, then we will cry (a strategy most commonly employed by white middle-class women). If we need to take umbrage and respond with righteous outrage, then we will take umbrage. If we need to argue, minimize, explain, play devil’s advocate, pout, tune out, or withdraw to stop the challenge, then we will.
White fragility functions as a form of bullying: “I am going to make it so miserable for you to confront me -- no matter how diplomatically you try to do so -- that you will simply back off, give up, and never raise the issue again.” White fragility keeps people of color in line and “in their place.” In this way, it is a powerful form of white racial control. Social power is not fixed; it is constantly challenged and needs to be maintained.
In my workshops, I often ask people of color, “How often have you given white people feedback on our unaware yet inevitable racism? How often has that gone well for you?” Eye rolling, head shaking, and outright laughter follow, along with the consensus of rarely, if ever. I then ask, “What would it be like if you could simply give us feedback, have us graciously receive it, reflect, and work to change the behavior?” Recently, a man of color sighed and said, “It would be revolutionary.” I ask my fellow whites to consider the profundity of that response. It would be revolutionary if we could receive, reflect, and work to change the behavior. On the one hand, the man’s response points to how difficult and fragile we are. But on the other hand, it indicates how simple it can be to take responsibility for our racism. But we aren’t likely to get there if we are operating from the dominant worldview that only intentionally mean people can participate in racism.


Robin DiAngelo is an academic, lecturer, and author of White Fragility: Why It's So Hard For White People To Talk About Racism.
Online at:
https://medium.com/s/story/how-white-people-handle-diversity-training-in-the-workplace-e8408d2519f
Also of Interest
http://www.beacon.org/assets/pdfs/whitefragilityreadingguide.pdf
Also of interest:
Diversity Challenge of the Institute for the Study and Promotion of Race and Culture (ISPRC)
https://www.bc.edu/content/bc-web/schools/lynch-school/sites/isprc/diversity-challenge/Registration1.html

Articles, Reviews
Boston Review on White Privilege
http://bostonreview.net/reading-lists/rosie-gillies-boston-review-white-supremacy-reading-list


What is White Privilege, Really?
Teaching Tolerance Magazine
https://www.tolerance.org/magazine/fall-2018/what-is-white-privilege-really

Books
Banaji, M. & Greenwald, A. (2013). Blindspot: Hidden biases of good people. New York: Delacorte Press.
Choate, Andrea. (11.30.16).  Neuroleadership Lesson:  Recognizing and Mitigating Unconscious Bias in the Workplace.  https://blog.shrm.org/sasia/blog/unconscious-bias-at-the-workplace
 
DiAngelo, Robin. (2018). White Fragility – Why it’s So Hard for White People to Talk about Racism
Irving, Debby. (2014). Waking up White: and finding myself in the story of race. Cambridge, MA: Elephant Room Press.
Plummer, Deborah (2019), Some of My Friends Are…The Daunting Challenges and Untapped Benefits of Cross-Racial Friendships. Boston:  Beacon Press.

Videos
Eve L. Ewing - Breaking Down Structural Racism with "Ghosts in the Schoolyard"
Christie Lindor, Why Great People Quit Good Jobs
McKinsey&Co, - Unconscious Bias and Ingrained Beliefs
Verna Myers - How to Overcome our Biases?  Walk Bravely Toward Them. https://www.ted.com/talks/verna_myers_how_to_overcome_our_biases_walk_boldly_toward_them/discussion
New York Times Series – Who, me? Bias?  https://www.nytimes.com/video/us/100000004818668/check-our-bias-to-wreck-our-bias.html
Trevor Noah - How Racist is Boston?
Kristen Pressner TEDx talk  - "Are you biased?" - I am.
Sokeo Ros, From Refugee Camp to Project:  A Cambodian Lullaby | |
New York Times 1619 American Slavery Project
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