Excerpt from

Diversity Beyond Lip Service

You’ve most likely experienced the effects of privilege—whether or not you knew it and whether or not the effects were favorable (though the more beneficial they were, the less likely you were to notice them).

People with privilege are often oblivious to it. Rather than recognizing that having the many advantages granted to them is simply due to their privilege, they believe that the benefits they experience on a daily basis are due to their own efforts. Similarly, they often feel that those who do not have the same abundance of gifts go without for lack of trying.

Privilege—and institutional and systemic privilege in particular—generates a lot of controversy and debate, primarily because acknowledging privilege requires that members of the dominant group recognize that they did not earn many of the gifts they enjoy and that those gifts come at the expense of others. As Peggy McIntosh, former associate director of the Wellesley Centers for Women, so aptly wrote:

In order to move toward a more inclusive society, the primary beneficiaries of privilege—namely European-American, heterosexual, Christian men—must recognize the advantages they are automatically granted. But the goal in addressing privilege is not to antagonize white men, but to involve them in the process and encourage their accountability, because we will only make progress if all of us—especially those in positions of power—are on board. While white men must recognize their privilege, the rest of us must recognize that for them, this new accountability will come with a sense of loss and discomfort:

Acknowledging that we are part of an unfair system means giving up some of the blind spots that make institutional and societal structures palatable for many of those in the majority, and gaining some of the discomfort that comes with a new level of awareness. Doing so also allows for a visceral understanding of what minority colleagues have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

A more diverse and inclusive workplace—and world—can be discomfiting to those in the majority in other ways. Many white men secretly fear that D&I means giving up their power to other groups. After all, if you were used to living in an environment that totally catered to your way of being where you had all the say, and someone told you that you had to give it up, your first reaction might be resistance, too.

Of course, no matter how understandable, this resistance needs to be dismantled. My approach is to get to the root causes of apathy and resistance to D&I via Inclusion Coaching and the COMMIT coaching model, which I explain in the next chapter. It uses empowering questions that engage individuals within the power structure in order to guide them on their personal journey toward embracing true diversity and inclusion.

While this empathetic approach may rub some diverse populations the wrong way at first, I believe that as a society we have to start where we are.

These are the people who hold the power and the purse strings, and if we can’t engage them on a deeper level, we will not see results. We need them to graciously, not begrudgingly, acknowledge and ultimately use their privilege to further the D&I cause.

And though the process may be unpleasant for all those involved at first, we can be allies, walking side by side on the journey toward inclusion.

In one of my coaching sessions, an executive-level sales leader shared that as a white man, he had been made aware of his privilege, but he was never told what to do about it. As a result, he was left feeling guilty about and disconnected from the ongoing diversity and inclusion conversations happening in his organization. Since he was a key decision-maker for organizational policies, this meant that those D&I conversations weren’t having much of an impact on the company’s practices.

Over time, our coaching sessions helped him reframe his privilege and become aware of the many everyday benefits he is afforded based solely on the fact that he is a member of the majority across multiple categories: a heterosexual, Christian, European-American man in a position of power. My client found one of the reflection questions to be especially empowering, facilitating a transformational shift for him:

• How can you use your privilege to honor your values?

Through the subsequent exploration and self-reflection he engaged in to answer this question, he discovered that he could use his power and privilege to actively participate in and further the diversity and inclusion work in his organization, rather than feeling ostracized by it.

A colleague of mine shared his story of waking up to his white male privilege—and what he chose to do next.

At fifty years of age, finally, I woke up to my White Male Privilege. And I’m glad to tell you—especially if you’re white or male or both, like me—waking up has been a growth experience. Rather than causing me to feel guilty or defensive—though I sometimes slip into that space, I admit—I’m happy to share that, for the most part, waking up to my White Male Privilege makes me feel responsible, engaged, and sometimes hopeful.

Now, to be honest, I’ll tell you that I also feel a bit disappointed in myself. All my life I told myself I was one of “the good guys.” I was born and raised in Massachusetts in a working-class family. I’ve adhered all my life to progressive values. I came out as gay in my early twenties. I attended a top-notch university and traveled the world extensively working for economic and social development. I’ve volunteered for causes like cancer research, LGBT youth suicide prevention, and social services for newly arrived immigrants.

The “bad people” propagate racism and male chauvinism. I’ve always distinguished myself from “those people” with “not me” rationalizations: not me, my family worked hard just to make a modest living. Not me, I’m a lifelong progressive. Not me, I’m gay—one of the oppressed. Not me, I’ve worked to help the less fortunate. Not me, I’m a deeply empathetic person—ask anyone!

For decades, I sang myself a “not me” lullaby to maintain my comfortable slumber of denial until a confluence of events created enough noise to jar me awake. In the world around me, I was stirred by displays of newly emboldened white supremacy on the one hand and the shocking truths exposed by the #MeToo movement on the other hand. In my professional experiences, I was prodded by a sudden and persistent pattern of (mostly young) voices raised in the workplace challenging deeply ingrained and dangerously subtle patterns of discrimination.

My awakening began gradually until one day the shades were thrown open. I was conducting a leadership development workshop for a client. My material calls out different styles of leadership, one of which I call the “Trustworthy Citizen.” Th e idea is to suggest that sometimes being a leader is simply about modeling behaviors of a cooperative member of the workplace community. After I presented the concept, one member of the group spoke up, pointing out that the word “citizen” aligned with white supremacist rhetoric and that she and others in the room were uncomfortable with my language. I could feel the tips of my ears burning as I attempted a reassuring reply.

“Thank you for sharing your view. That’s important to hear. But let’s not get hung up on my word choices; let’s focus on the idea I’m trying to convey. I’m not here as a diversity expert, I’m just here to talk about leadership skills.”

My assurances did not have the effect I hoped for, and for a few minutes I presided over what was for me an extremely awkward and uncomfortable conversation, ending with my retreating to this: “I feel uncomfortable facilitating this conversation, especially as a middle-aged white guy.”

That was it. That was the moment I fully woke up, albeit in a daze. I was fully exposed to the light of my privileged effort to escape the moment because it was uncomfortable. Things had turned awkward for me, and so in my position of power as the outside expert and a middle-aged white male, I was shutting it down. When I heard the suggestion that my leadership material could somehow be associated with white supremacy, I freaked out. I was panicked, guilt-ridden, and defiant all at once.

“No, not me,” said my inside voice, “I’m a good guy.”

What made this moment unique was that I saw all of this playing out in my mind. I recognized that even while I intended to appear humble and understanding by admitting that I was ill-equipped to handle this situation, I was exercising my privilege to escape it. And although I was able to see this, I wasn’t able to stop myself from giving an inadequate answer in the moment. But once we wrapped up the session, I was able to say to myself, “Now that you can see, you need to learn to speak. Next time, you need to have a better response.”

Waking up is only the first step. The ability to see my White Male Privilege is the beginning of a longer process. Since that moment of new clarity, I’ve taken responsibility for learning some new language. I’ve begun searching for resources to educate myself. I’ve shared my waking-up story in videos posted on LinkedIn. I’ve begun to organize a small experimental group of other white male professionals who share an interest in waking up and learning how to engage productively to address racism and male chauvinism in their community and workplace.

White Male Privilege is not a mark of shame. White Male Privilege is a social reality that’s been passed down to us and that we perpetuate through complacent slumber. When we first wake up to it, we might feel defensive or guilty. We’re also human beings, and so those feelings are understandable, but defensiveness and guilt don’t serve us if we then wish to contribute to positive change.

I am awake and I am seeking to learn what I can do with that clarity. I’m ready to find ways to use owning the fact of my White Male Privilege as a tool for doing even more good.

Privilege as a Platform

Regardless of your identity, you have the power, privilege, and opportunity to make a difference that benefits everyone. Rather than denying it or avoiding the inclusion conversation, participate; it’s vital to our collective success.

I encourage those with privilege—white men, in particular—to stretch toward change with humility and curiosity about what is possible when we commit to moving forward in unity toward a culture of inclusion. I also encourage women, people of color, members of the LGBTQIA community, and individuals from other demographics to become curious about what white men need relative to D&I.

• Do they have a sense of belonging in diversity work, or are they expected to passively support from the fringe?
  • Are white men diverse?
  • How does D&I affect white men?
  • What is their inclusion story?
  • What are the issues that lie deep beneath the surface for white men?

For those of you reading this who are not white males: hear me out.

Diversity and inclusion goes all ways. It cannot be about condemning white men as the oppressor or throwing stones.

Yes, we all need to acknowledge the reality that European-American males in America—and many other places around the world—have privilege that others don’t. We must also accept that that privilege provides a platform, a platform we can use to raise our D&I standards.

Asking How can privilege be used in a way that moves us forward together? can be a powerful starting point for progress and make the conversation an easier one for everyone.

Take Brad, for example. Brad is a six-foot-three, straight white guy; a former linebacker; and a VP of operations at a large banking institution. He was visibly nervous as he opened Chandler Bank’s regional board meeting, addressing his peers and several national leaders.

He cleared his throat and said in a resolute tone,“Good morning, we have some work to do relative to attracting and retaining diverse talent and building an inclusive culture here at Chandler Bank—and I believe that we, as white men, can lead the way by using our privilege to benefit everyone.”

There was a long, awkward silence as the group took in what Brad had just said. Finally, his colleague Rich spoke up.“I’m open to exploring ways to improve our culture, but don’t you think we are setting ourselves up for some real criticism if we take the lead on this? I mean, look around the room. We’re not exactly the face of diversity.”

“That’s exactly why we need to support and address the issues surrounding inclusion, diversity, equality, and gender in the workplace,” Brad replied.“This room is full of decision-makers, and we’re the ones who need to take action. We can use our influence to create safe spaces for our employees to openly discuss the barriers and opportunities here at Chandler. We can start by increasing the number of women in senior-level positions and addressing the fact that we’re hemorrhaging African-American employees.”

There was a full range of responses as members began to chime in around the table. Some of the leaders were vehemently opposed to the idea, while others were curious about where this could take the organization.

Brad offered to lead by sharing his D&I journey and subsequently opened a company-wide dialogue. He spoke about his experience coming to grips with his privilege and how he wanted to use it for noble purposes now. The group aligned around the concept and agreed to publish Brad’s story on the internal company blog as a first step in building awareness.

Unsurprisingly, the employees of Chandler Bank—who were far more diverse than its leadership—were ready and willing to begin the D&I conversation: Brad’s blog post received a record number of positive responses.

Helping White Men Unpack Their Truth

While Brad serves as a fantastic example of using one’s privilege for progress, people often need help recognizing not only their privilege, but also how to use it for good. As coaches and managers, we can help white men unpack their truth regarding privilege in the workplace and recognize the unfair advantages that influence their decisions, ranging from hiring and promotions to professional development and compensation. Doing so effectively requires that we create a safe space where white men and other privileged groups can go deep within themselves to discover and share their truth about their privilege and bias—openly and candidly—without guilt or judgment. Understandably, going deep to discover and reveal truths about a sensitive topic like privilege may be uncomfortable for many leaders, but it is necessary for progress.

As a professional coach, I’m very keen to maintain compassion while allowing for those I coach to embrace the discomfort that is often associated with looking in all of their mirrors—not just the ones that capture their best side. It has been quite remarkable to work with leaders who are confronting powerful questions like the ones below for the first time:

• What is your relationship with privilege? What do you want it to be?
• What role has privilege played in your career?
• How has privilege affected the non-majority employees in your organization?
• How does bias show up in your interactions with employees unlike yourself?

It can be an exhilarating and exhausting experience for leaders to face parts of themselves that they might not have been aware of previously.

That said, it is important that we let employees fully express all that they feel as they interrogate their perspective, decisions, and actions in and out of the workplace. Interjecting too much has the potential to dilute their experience.

If it gets ugly, let them deal with the ugly. I’ve witnessed transformational change in clients on the other side of ugly; it often required dark or upsetting revelations along the way. Th ese startling revelations lie tucked away in clients’ blind spots, even when they are glaringly obvious to others.

The Power of Privilege

At the office, many of us wave away the discomfort of exclusion with a multitude of excuses, some more plausible than others. We blame the homogeneous character of our organizations on the lack of “qualified” diverse candidates to explain our inability to attract and retain diverse talent; or we categorize sexist, racist, or homophobic jokes and comments as harmless “guy talk.” We let others’ behavior slide even when we know in our hearts that it is hurtful, inappropriate, or even damaging to an organization’s progress.

One of the reasons for inaction on diversity and inclusion is that people don’t want to be called out or dropped from the favor and privilege of the dominant culture. This makes sense; of course, no one wants to be excluded. Reflecting on Brad’s experience earlier in the chapter, it took a lot of courage for him to take a stand for D&I, especially among a very homogeneous group of peers. He knew that he could be putting himself at odds with the rest of the team by speaking up—but he decided to honor his values, push past his fear, and act for the betterment of the organization.

When we speak, we want people to listen. When we make contributions at work, we want recognition for those contributions. Just as white men don’t want to have their career progress judged as being a product of privilege and unfair advantages, people of color do not want to be judged as being tokens to meet a representation quota. If we are part of a team, we all want to be acknowledged as qualified, valuable contributors—a courtesy that everyone deserves. Those who are not part of the majority are not asking for privilege or special handling, just fair and equal treatment—the same kind we all want.

It is imperative that we look within and realize that what we hold most dear is our values, and the only way to preserve those values is to ensure that we are not hindering anyone else’s access to fair and equal treatment.

For us to do so, inclusion must be a part of every facet of our lives, from dining room table discussions all the way to the boardroom.

Privilege is part of a much larger system that exists to protect the majority and its power, and the unconscious biases support that system. That said, the goal of Inclusion Coaching is not to remove privilege and bias from the workplace (which is impossible anyway). Rather, it is to meet people where they are so that they can do the self-work necessary to acknowledge their truth, understand how it affects their decisions in business and beyond, and use their privilege for the betterment of the organization as a whole—including those employees who are not afforded the same opportunities.

Regardless of which segment of society we are a part of—whether it’s the majority or a minority, male or female, straight or gay, able-bodied or disabled—we must remember that we all want the same things from life and understand that in order to ensure that others have them as well, we can’t accept excuses from anyone—even ourselves. This is why I believe that coaching—and the accountability it brings—is a powerful and effective way to move D&I forward.