Where are the White Guys?

A guest post from Colin Stokes.

I looked around the packed room, scanning for colleagues and acquaintances who had also come to this free keynote from an amazing antiracism educator. I saw a few familiar faces among the hundred or so energized people of all colors. 

What I didn’t see were any other white men.

Since then I’ve seen it over and over. At racial justice events—forums, community meetings, screenings, workshops—women are the overwhelming majority of participants. When a few men are there, they’re Black or Latino or multiracial. I’ve almost always been the one white guy.

Now, I’m far from the only white guy interested in racial justice. But our numbers are nowhere near the 30% of the U.S. population we make up, let alone proportional to our hold on levers of power. (White men hold 62% of elected offices in the U.S.)

For a demographic that has not typically been shy about making our voices heard, it’s a glaring absence. 

So why are we holding out on antiracism? 

Maybe it’s no mystery. Racism funnels benefits our way every moment, whether we know it or not. On the surface, there’s no incentive for us to dismantle it.

But plenty of white men are guided by sincere values of justice. We care deeply for our friends of color. We’re inspired by brilliant artists, athletes, and leaders who inform us of the cruelties of racism. What keeps us from living out these values?

Maybe we fear feeling scolded, treated as guilty for the brutality of white men throughout history. But in my experience, racial justice activists are so surprised to see a white man sincerely invested that they treat me like a VIP.

Besides, aren’t we supposed to be tough? Can’t we take a little criticism?

Maybe not. Maybe we’re lacking some crucial skills. Many American white men (especially straight ones) are socialized to value individualism and self-reliance. As a result we are unaccustomed to feeling vulnerable in the presence of other people. 

My wife spends hours with her moms’ groups, supporting each other through every personal and professional challenge. I spend a few minutes with my male friends exchanging Star Wars and Marvel opinions and trying to crack each other up. 

If we don’t know how to struggle through difficult emotions with people who love us, doing so with a group of strangers seems overwhelming.

I wonder if our work as white male antiracists begins with each other. This coming year I’m joining a virtual cohort called White Men for Racial Justice. One of its leaders, Ron Carucci, told me most members come to learn about the racial justice part, and discover powerful and intimate friendships with the other men. I’m curious about how this connection might be the key to bringing more of us into the work.

Meanwhile, ask the white men in your life to join you at a racial justice event. And If you’re a white man, show up! After all, we’re still showing up in the halls of power. They’re not changing unless we do too.

Unconscious Bias Makes The Holidays Even More Stressful

I prefer to avoid the Whole Foods parking lot between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

People seem like they’re in anything but the holiday spirit. Between the drivers competing for spaces to the pedestrians darting in and out, the tension is thick. In the store everybody’s rushing around.

People seem more stressed, more tired, and less kind in “the happiest time of the year.”

And the people who take a disproportionate part of the heat in the holidays are the people in customer-facing roles: the receptionist, the cashier, the ticket taker.

They’re the first people seen by the public, charged with representing their institution. And they’re often among the lowest paid employees.

But somehow it seems socially acceptable to vent frustration at them.

I hear how tough it can be for people in these roles when we work with clients. Customer-facing positions are disproportionately filled by people of color. They’re younger on average, with fewer advanced degrees. Because of these patterns, they may have borne the brunt of people’s biases their whole lives, in a range of settings.

The holiday rudeness adds injury to insult. In focus groups, they make it clear: I deserve to be treated better.

Unconscious biases compound the disrespect. Something tells us we’re better than that person at the front desk. They wouldn’t be here if they worked harder, had more maturity or more education.

To check for your biases, imagine the person on the other side was a tall white man in a tailored suit—someone with the air of wealth. Would you express your irritation differently?

Or just imagine that the person was your neighbor. My daughter endured a lot of rudeness and attitude when she worked as a receptionist in a hair salon in our town. If the customers knew that she was in effect their neighbor and a soon-to-be Phi Beta Kappa college grad, would they have treated her more kindly?

Meanwhile, if you employ people who work on the front line of our social and commercial lives, make sure you have their back, supporting them with organizational systems. Yes, “the customer is right,” but first-class customer service doesn’t mean exposure to constant harassment. Your training should provide them with de-escalating phrases they can practice. Your policies should provide for a supervisor to step in when they need to remove themselves.

I have to admit, I’m plenty stressed myself. With regular personal worries, plus holiday obligations, plus the global anxieties of war, hunger, poverty, and so on, this happy time of year feels heavy. So much is out of our control.

That’s why it’s important to focus on one thing we can adjust: our behaviors toward each other. Let’s be kind to one another and enjoy the many holidays this season has to offer.

DEIA Isn't Going Anywhere

I’ve been reading a lot of stories about “diversity fatigue.”

A lot of reports in the news lament—or gloat about, depending on the outlet—the decreasing investment in DEIA.

We’re told that organizations are cutting back, slowing down, and not following through on the commitments they so loudly made in the wake of George Floyd’s death. The LinkedIn report on C-Suite jobs was typical: Chief Diversity Officer roles were added at a rate of 169% between 2020 and 2022, then the growth has screeched to a halt this year.

And after the Supreme Court gutted affirmative action in higher education, HR and legal departments at many companies are feeling new headwinds blowing against DEIA efforts.

I’m frustrated with these trends. But I’ve seen them before. And I know they only paint part of the picture.

I also see leaders with phenomenal persistence and vision, and teams too busy quietly doing the work to worry about what LinkedIn says. They have not allowed fear of the possible extension of the Supreme Court ruling to stop their efforts.

Maybe you noticed the comments from Regina Harrison, Corrine Ellicone, and President & CEO Matthew Stephens of Mt. Auburn Cemetery on the post I wrote about them last month.

I was spotlighting their focus on DEIA as part of their visioning process for the future. I didn’t tell you that this is just the recent leg of their diversity and inclusion marathon.

We first connected with them in 2021, when they approached us about doing a workplace assessment to see how their employees experienced the culture. We did focus groups and interviews to hear from everybody. We led Unconscious Bias workshops for all their employees, leadership, and board.

I can tell their heart is in the work. They made sure we offered sessions and focus groups in Spanish because they have a significant group of employees who are native Spanish speakers. A task force of employees has built out the strategic plan for DEIA to govern their efforts over the next few years, with the board playing a pivotal role. In hiring Matthew as CEO, they ensured that what they’ve started to build will not lose momentum.

I love sharing success stories like Mt. Auburn’s with prospective clients.

DEIA work has always been challenging; some people will always resist the changes it requires. But it’s also meaningful and gratifying.

And it isn’t stopping.

I’ll be sharing more stories like this to encourage individuals and organizations tackling this work.

This is not the time for us to become weary of DEIA. It’s time to take stock of our joy and commitment, and let it launch us into 2024.