People come into our lives to teach important lessons and, if we are lucky, so will a dog.
Our furry friends can show us how to love unconditionally, get through to those who speak new languages and understand how to become a better friend and neighbor.
My late dog, Gabby, was a master teacher. Among the crucial lessons she left behind: When people talk, tilt your head to one side and listen. Always jump up and down when friends arrive. Use gestures and words that your intended audience can embrace and understand. Fight fair. Show empathy even when you really don’t have a clue as to what’s really going on. Forgive the people who yell at you. When under attack, roll over on your back and wiggle your legs until somebody comes up with a better plan. Color and size don’t matter when it comes to choosing friends. When new dogs arrive at the park, sniff and growl all you want but let them in. The park doesn’t belong to you.
Though I facilitated diversity workshops for many years, Gabby provided more powerful lessons than any book or workshop ever could. In fact, over the years, her responses to our challenges generated the most thoughtful and meaningful conversations at my workshops.
Gabby had a knack for making dispirited strangers, and other dogs, feel special. It wasn’t always that way. When we first became a newly committed couple, she was stubborn, willful and even a little mean. Chow Chows are known to have a real attitude.
In the beginning, during walks, Gabby lunged at other dogs and babies in strollers, she buried my things in the back yard, took the food from her bowl and spread it around the kitchen, and tugged on the leash so hard I fell over. I was looking for a dog that would go fetch the morning paper and help me to meet cute guys. What I got was Gabby, a dog that wanted to be in charge.
I considered taking her back to the shelter. But something inside of me kept telling me to try one more time. One day, I realized that she craved praise, more than treats or anything else I was using to motivate her. The more I fussed at her, the more desperate and angry she became.
It dawned on me that instead of correcting her bad behaviors, I should begin each walk with praise. I’d say: “Hey, Gabby do the good dog walk today. You are so smart. I know you can do it.”
Corporate managers are taught in Management 101 to understand the importance of catching workers getting it right. Yet, when it comes to diversity, CEOs and diversity advocates often do just the exact opposite. We catch the people making mistakes, then punish and embarrass them.
What if I had done that to my dog?
How much time do we currently invest trying to identify the people within organizations who understand diversity the best, and are leveraging it to get top sales, create innovative products and generate the most website clicks? What if, rather than ganging up on those who are stubborn, willful and dug in like Gabby, we identify the doctors, lawyers, police officers, politicians, and journalists getting it right, and we begin to probe their techniques and strategies, and share their insights. We yell it from the roof tops and put it on the front pages and evening news.
This, I know: You can’t master core cultural competencies during a series of two-hour diversity workshops. An article in the Harvard Review on Why Diversity Programs Fail, suggests the positive effects of diversity training rarely last beyond a day or two, and a number of studies suggest that it can activate bias or spark a backlash.
We humans, and our dogs, develop advanced cultural expertise by taking in the cues we receive from strangers, making mistakes, and then figuring out how to do better.
Making mistakes is a crucial part of the growth process. Ask any dog.
So let’s afford our fellowman the same dignity we give our pets. Let’s use our “good dog” tone when discussing diversity issues instead of trying to jockey for position or lifting ourselves by demeaning others. Let’s use words and concepts that a skeptical audience, or dog, might hear instead of language like “wokeness” and “racial reckoning” that terrify the very folks we seek to reach.
Experience has taught me that we can advance diversity and inclusion much faster by catching culturally competent people in the act, and then explaining why and how they have succeeded. Give them an extra day off. Award them a bonus. Send hand-written notes of encouragement. Elect them to Congress or as Mayor.
As for those in our families and among our friends who lag behind? Well, I recommend that we tilt our heads to the side and listen, before we speak.
That’s what my Gabby would do.