Why is a white woman doing dei work?

By Michelle Tenner Cantor

Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work is not easy

Frankly, as a human performance and change management consultant for more than 20 years, I could have chosen a lot less controversial area to focus on, like leadership development. And just as frankly, it is an industry where being white is not an advantage. 

But when I became the Diversity and Inclusion Program Lead for Accenture’s NA Strategy practice, it became crystal clear that you cannot optimize ANY aspect of human and organizational performance without incorporating a diversity, equity, and inclusion lens. How can an individual perform at their best when they are receiving repeated and subtle messages that “they are less than,” “they don’t belong,” “they will never get to the top”?

Since then, my commitment to this work has been reinforced daily by the past and present accounts of seemingly small actions and comments that colleagues, clients, friends, and even I have experienced throughout the years. Some of these interactions may have been well intentioned, but nonetheless are riddled with unconscious bias and assumptions.

Here are a few examples:

·       “You are the first Jewish person I have ever met. Do you have horns?”

·       “Now that you have a baby, we know you won’t want to travel anymore, so we have figured out a great new role for you.” 

·       “Good for you!” – Repeatedly told to the Latina woman engineer.

·       “I didn’t think you would be interested given your work and family schedule” – The response when an individual asks why she was never informed or considered for an open position. 

·       “I can tell within five minutes whether someone is a ‘fit’ for my company.”

·       “I would never hire anyone my age. We are too old.”

·       “I have a PhD, am 6 feet, 3 inches tall, and am afraid EVERY day on my way to work of being pulled over by the police.”

And these do not even cover the personal stories people share that are not necessarily work-related but impact everyday life. The kinds of stories that we all are hearing today, but unfortunately are not new or isolated. 

Owning my bubble 

And yes, as a white woman I have lived in a bubble like many of us. I am privileged in many of the typical ways, being white, well-educated, and upper-middleclass. One of the less obvious privileges I have had was going to a small, private suburban school from kindergarten through 10th grade. But this school was not privileged in the way you are most likely envisioning, with elite facilities and pedigreed families who were all rich except for the scholarship students. Wrong. In fact, this school had a hodgepodge of buildings ranging from domed structures to trailers to a 100-year-old house. It was diverse in every aspect of our world – race, culture, ethnicity, religion, demographic location, socio-economic category. It was a school founded in 1941 by “educational pioneers” George and Annemarie Roeper. As their website says, “after fleeing Germany to escape Nazi persecution, they established a school in Detroit with the goal of educating children to become thoughtful, humane adults.

The privilege of this school was not due to sterling facilities or societal prestige. It was its philosophy and its environment. It was truly a place of free expression, free pursuit of intellectual passions and complete acceptance.

However, Roeper was also a place riddled with stereotypes and biases. Riding the free bus with the kids who attended schools in the surrounding area, I heard every day:

·       “You go where all the weird people go.”

·       “Say something smart.”

·       “Why would anyone go to a school with igloos?” (referring to the K-1 dome buildings)

These questions and comments made it clear that while Roeper was my “happy” place, it wasn’t a “normal” place. When I hit my teenage years, I headed for the “normalcy” of public school and never looked back. 

Life outside the bubble 

Until, that is, I started doing DEI work. I then realized that it was like trying to get back to Roeper, a place that is diverse, fair, and inclusive. A place where anyone could find their passions and their belonging. I found myself holding tight and appreciating those 10 years of complete acceptance and wondering how I had strayed from the path of seeking places like Roeper that embrace, optimize, and thrive BECAUSE of differences.

Today, I celebrate those differences daily. Not just as a DEI professional, but as a world citizen who has learned that life outside the bubble is a lot more interesting, satisfying and fulfilling – for all of us.