Cultural IQ

If Diversity Turned Into A Game, What Level Would You Be?

Some companies make diverse workers feel supported and welcome, while others send conflicting signals that stir anger and resentment. The mission statement of the company may say that it embraces diversity, yet none of the photos in the building or marketing materials reflect the organization's rich diversity.

Over the years, I have worked for companies with authentic diversity messages and for those that were a work in progress. From those experiences, I've identified four levels that great companies reach in their journeys toward competency:

Level One: Resistant Learner

This stage is the hardest to exit. It is natural for individuals within companies to push back against change. Baby steps may be needed when there is no consensus or pain yet. I found it helpful to catch colleagues getting it right. Send brief notes praising colleagues with cultural acumen or cultural competence. Soon, you have a movement.

Level Two: Curious Explorer

Where do we go for help? Who can we call? At this stage, I found it helpful to do a test drive. Develop a small pilot program, and monitor the results. Call in the experts.

Level Three: Critical Thinker

Anticipate the responses to these new ideas. Before you do, listen to the people who dread change. Adopt language that addresses their specific concerns.

Level Four: Champions

Reward workers who lead by example and show colleagues how to get it right. People pay closer attention to cultural competence when they realize it can bring higher sales, more money, and a better job.

 

Learning the Code of the Street Keeps Us Out of Harm's Way

 

When journalists visit City Hall, they rarely expect the mayor to stop everything for an on-the-spot interview. Instead, they set up an appointment. They befriend the administrative assistant. They build strong relationships to ensure they can get information when they need it quickly. Yet when venturing into communities of color, journalists often expect residents to stop what they are doing to help them, even though they are outsiders who look and speak differently.  When we do not show sources how much they are valued, they may shut down or get rid of us by telling us what they think we want to hear.

Failure to understand the code of the streets may put us and others in harm's way.

While serving as a national correspondent for the Philadelphia Inquirer, I was assigned to interview residents in a housing project in San Antonio after several single mothers had been shot and killed, prompting the mayor to hold a press urging residents to "cool it."  Then-U.S. Congressman Henry B. Gonzalez decided to hold a congressional hearing in the neighborhood to hear what residents had to say.

When I arrived, I immediately went to the community center where a young man was standing guard, looking very much like he was in charge.  I explained I was there to cover the hearing, and to discuss the conditions in the neighborhood. What was daily life like for the people who lived here? What type of barriers did they face? I was here to listen.

The young man declined an interview, though we chatted a bit. Less than a half hour later, I was walking the streets when a group of women rushed over. They explained that the drug dealers had sent out word that I was not a cop and it was OK to talk to me.  I later interviewed a courageous child who issued a plea to Congress to help protect the lives of their vulnerable moms.

After that, I never walked into a housing development without a plan. That experience taught me the importance of recognizing and understanding the roles people within a neighborhood play.  

Here are some of the lessons I've been given as I sought to improve my work and my communication skills: 

1) Ask for directions and engage with the community members. Take time to develop relationships. Visit barber shops and beauty shops for insights into the roles people play.  Talk to dog walkers. Visit with folks on their front porches. Check social media. 

2) Clearly state the purpose of the visit and seek help in understanding the neighborhood on a deeper level. Make it clear that they care about the people, as well as the story.

3) Leave behind contact information and assure residents of returning, showing commitment.

4) Dress appropriately for the neighborhood to signal respect and understanding.

5) Show respect and give respect in interactions with the community members. That simple gesture unlocks extraordinary and unforgettable experiences. While walking around a new neighborhood one day,  a group of teens came from behind me and surrounded me. I smiled and looked directly into the eyes of the young man who appeared to be in charge. "Gentlemen, how are you this morning?,"  I inquired. The teens laughed. Mr. In-Charge curtsied and then replied, "Milady." He then helped me to step over a puddle - a gallant act of chivalry. We laughed and went our separate ways. 

 

 

 

Listening to the Compassionate Conservatives

 

A few decades ago, an email arrived from a good and decent man who asked a simple question: Why are Black People in my workplace so angry?

The man who sent that email eventually would become one of my greatest diversity teachers.

A conservative, my friend Lance saw the world through a starkly different lens. I emphasized societal barriers and injustice.  Lance thought more often about self-reliance and values like hard work and self-determination. I  held the community accountable for helping the less fortunate and eliminating social barriers.  Lance wanted to support people in rising from within.

Though we were miles apart on our politics, we wanted the same thing: A more loving, compassionate world.

 As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ Latter-Day Saints, Lance had felt the sting of prejudice and bigotry. When I wrote my column the Cultural Coach, he emailed me weekly about the articles and my experiences.  He approached diversity as one might approach a research paper: Why don't I know? What must I understand? He took time to explain why I lost him when I made specific arguments.  

Eventually, Lance and I began to work together and from time to time he posted articles on my blog. We recognized that we were opposite sides of the colorful American fabric.

My friend and advisor, Lance, passed away last year.  He contributed as much to my diversity growth as anyone else in my life.  He showed me that not all conservatives are racist, and many of them actually do want a world where everyone can succeed. 

Passing along some words of wisdom about promoting diversity from Lance.  We could have listened...

What If I:

• Focus more on what changes I need to make rather than on what changes I think others need to make.

• Commit to making no demand of others that I do not demand of myself, and lead by example.

• State more of what I am in favor of rather than what I am against – build up rather than tear down.

• Recognize that extremists do not represent the whole.

• Focus on providing solutions rather than on pointing fingers of blame.

• Focus more on building common ground rather than highlighting differences.

• Ask for clarifications rather than making emotional assumptions.

• Praise  my rivals when they do something I agree with rather than only criticizing.

• Make  counter arguments that are rational and respectful rather than emotional and ridiculing.

• Assume that everyone has a reason behind their beliefs and seek to understand those reasons.

 

 

As Americans flock to see the film Civil War, anguish and silence fill the air

After watching 'Civil War' in Philadelphia yesterday, I was struck by the eerie silence and anguish on the faces of the movie goers. It was a somber moment.

The film's cautionary message was clear: a civil war is made up of many isolated battles, and Americans, whether in uniform or not, will struggle to maintain their humanity. 

The ugliest battles took place off the battlefield, not over values or principles, but in combat solely designed to determine a community's winners and losers. 

 The racial fault lines were not a part of the plot as soldiers appeared united in a shared desire to destroy and kill. 

This is an unsettling movie with an uncomfortable message: Neither extremists nor their guns can save our Republic and protect our democracy.

If we begin to hold conversations that are civil and painfully honest, it will give us a fighting chance.

In A World Full of Hate, Be A Light

Every now and then, in the midst of darkness or despair we might encounter a bright light. It might be a street light offering security, a person providing comfort, or a happy dog that greets us warmly.

I encountered a bright light last weekend while having breakfast in a neighborhood restaurant. A fellow diner and I exchanged pleasantries, and that conversation turned into a dialogue about life, grief and loss, God and my African American ancestors.

Mary told me she had trained to be a lawyer and a teacher during her career.  Though she was retired, she moved like electricity in motion, with an energy level so high that she could lift the spirits of strangers around her.  A European American with deep roots in African American culture, Mary had joined a Black church when she was younger, where she found a religious advisor who was connected to the spiritual world.

 “I hope you don’t mind me saying this,” Mary said.  “You are surrounded right now by spirits, and the spirits want you to know that you are not alone. One spirit, in particular, wants me to give you a message: Remember, anyone with a purpose in life, who is heading toward a destination, will suffer and face hardships. “

I understood immediately who the message was from, and why it arrived now.

Throughout my life, strangers often have approached me to share poignant stories. More than three decades ago, I met a harried woman at Houston Hobby airport just days before Christmas.  She was waiting for her children's flight to arrive. The family was being reunited after a long separation.

That happiest woman in the airport told me she could not wait to see her kids though she wondered if they would be disappointed that she could not afford to buy them gifts. I was moved to help. I gave her the money I had set aside  for Christmas outings. 

Many of my friends told me afterward they thought the woman was a scam artist. A few weeks later, the same woman called the Philadelphia Inquirer’s Houston Bureau, where I worked.  She told me about her amazing Christmas, and said she had a story that might interest me. The woman was a teacher, and she had asked her pupils to write letters to President George Bush to advise him on the Gulf War. The letters were hysterical. The children advised him to get lots of sleep, worried that his hair was turning gray, asked about Barbara Bush, and provided sound practical advice.

President Bush had written them back on White House stationary to thank them, and let them know he was ok.

I went to the school to interview her class and see the letters; the story was prominently featured in the Philadelphia Inquirer.

On any given day, the light we see could be artificial warmth cast by a scam artist, or it might be an human who has been called to speak to us and connect.

Move toward the light. 

Naval Officer Eliminates Diversity Programs, Creates Unity Training to Bring Ship Together

 

 

 

Every now and then, somebody offers a bold new idea that seems a bit risky.

If we open our minds and listen, we might just learn something.

In his book “It’s Your Ship: Management Tips from the Best Damn Ship in the Navy” Captain D. Michael Abrashoff, former commanding officer of the USS Benfold, offers lessons learned as he built morale and a top-performing ship. 

In these stormy economic seas, who among us doesn’t have a vessel or at least a leaky boat that is in need of repair?

Some of his tips we’ve heard before: understand yourself first, praise your people, remember little things like birthdays, care about human issues and programs, build up people and recognize their achievements. The section of the book involving diversity is anything but standard operating procedure, however. His strategy there is likely to raise some eyebrows.  

Abrashoff felt diversity programs were dividing his team – rather than bringing them together. So he did a little reengineering. Rather than focus his message on differences, he focused on building unity.

This enabled him to discuss human similarities rather than racial and gender differences, and to create an organization that seeks to remove barriers for all. The objective was simple: Create a high-performing team  and an organization so good EVERYONE wants to belong. This is a change of pace from standard diversity programs, which tend to be supported by the folks who feel they will gain something and opposed by the folks who feel they stand to lose. The perception that diversity creates winners and losers has resulted in resentment, friction, and diversity fatigue. 

So here’s the Abrashoff alternative: He focused on building unity rather than diversity. (Keep in mind, representational diversity was not an issue on the ship.)

The Captain assumed full command of unity training, which sent a signal to all that this matter was of vital importance. He stressed why his team’s members should value each other instead of focusing on the costs of devaluing them. He made it clear: the ship had a zero tolerance policy for prejudice and sexual harassment. When incidents occurred, he responded quickly and dispensed justice fairly, keeping in mind the background of individuals. 

Did things get better? Abrashoff says yes. Surveys filled out by employees indicated some had a change of heart, he writes in his book. He discovered everyone wanted to be part of a team that truly cared about its members. And that they were willing to pay the price to get in. He learned it is better to create opportunities for interactions and learning rather than simply highlight cultural shortcomings and deficits.

I would argue the diversity backlash building in America is voicing strong disapproval of classic diversity strategies and messages. New thinking can and should be embraced. As Abrashoff found, skeptics might just embrace diversity if we show them they can end up as winners too.

 

On Easter Sunday, Philly Gets A Modern-Day Miracle

A man who was disheveled, and possibly homeless, walked into my Catholic church on Easter Sunday. Quite frankly, I cringed because I was afraid someone -  who harbored inner fears of people who look a bit different - might approach him and ask him to leave. You could smell the liquor quite a distance from him.

I watched as the man stood quietly on the side of the aisles. He waited until the ushers came by with their baskets - seeking support for the church. Our visitor walked over to the usher and dropped a small coin in the basket. It was received with gratitude.

Wow.

Incidents like these serve as a reminder that no one can take our faith from us. Even if we had no place to worship, and no church leader to follow, we still can live our faith, and practice our religion. We can feed the poor. Help the homeless. Support equal access to fairness and opportunity. 

Lately, there has been a lot of concern that Diversity, Equity and Inclusion programs are falling by the wayside. I am not worried. No one can take our beliefs from us, or stop us from putting them into practice. In fact, the more we demonstrate our commitment to DEI, the faster we win this battle.

The most effective leaders are those who lead by example - not those who tear others down.

Our Sunday service guide contained a simple message for parishioners: If a homeless person walks over and asks for help, please direct the individual to one of the priests so they may assist them.

The most effective congregations are those who open the door wide to miracles - like the one I witnessed on Easter Sunday.

 

 

Are We Our Brother’s Keeper?

 

Years ago, I answered the front door in Memphis, TN. to find two young African American kids standing near their push lawnmower. They were going around the predominately white neighborhood asking people if they had any work for them.

As I spoke with them, I learned that they had walked a long distance from their home on a very hot day. Though they had knocked on doors for several hours, they didn’t have a single dollar to show for their grit and determination.

Like many of our neighbors, we, too, had recently cut our front lawn. After seeing the disappointment in their eyes, I understood I could not send them away emptyhanded. They were doing exactly what society asked them to do – making an effort to earn money legally.

I gave the boys $20, not a handout but rather an investment in their business. My hope was they would continue to find the encouragement needed to remain on this path to entrepreneurship.

I’ve lived in both affluent and lower working-class neighborhoods – by choice. Anyone has done so is well aware of the privilege that comes with life lived in a wealthy zip code.

When you are poor or working class, other people often look down on you, and that can harden you and deepen frustration and resentment. I often felt that societal sting when I lived in a working class neighborhood in Upper Darby.  Our broken mail boxes in our apartment complex at times were left wide open - exposing our mail, as well as private financial information. Drug dealers hung out in the stairwells. Our complex sent out a letter telling us that selling drugs was a violation of the lease. However, if we saw such encounters, we should call the police -- not them.  One day,  I called 911 to report a gunman chasing another youth - and firing shots at him.  An officer arrives 15 minutes later to pick up the bullet casings from the street. No sirens. No canvassing. I never found out what happened to that boy being chased. But if his family feels outrage, I would certainly understand why.

We are each part of the problem because we looked the other way as this situation developed. Rather than confine ourselves to donating to charities providing temporary relief and assistance, we need to take intentional actions each day that break the cycle of violence and keep youth on the right track.

When they show up unexpectedly at our front door, we have to let them into our lives. We need to be part of the solution. That may mean:

Being willing to come back into the office to help increase pedestrian traffic in hotspots. 

Helping out people in trouble. One night, I got off the subway stop at the wrong location. As I was walking home, a young man approached and told me he would walk behind me until I reached my destination. "I won't come up to where you are because I don't want to scare you," he said. I thanked him after I got home.  He replied, "I hope someone would do the same for my mother or sisters." He was my guardian that day.  Isn't it better to prevent crime rather than invest in  new jails?

Being mindful of the assumptions we make about people who don't look like us or live in our neighborhood. 

During the presidential election of 2020, my dog Gabby wore this sign in front the polling place. There had been reports that our precinct might be targeted by groups wishing to intimidate Black voters. Believe me when I say my dog did not want to stand in line with me for two hours while I voted, but she did. She provided much-needed comic relief and protection. When I went inside to vote, people waiting in line took turns watching over her.

That is what a community does - neighbors look out for each other.

 

 

Airing Differences In a Heated Time of Debate

Some of the most crucial conversations may occur between perfect strangers who meet online, at coffee shops, on playgrounds or at neighborhood meetings. These discussions often arise unexpectedly, in very casual ways.

The better prepared we are for these chance encounters, the more successful we will be in getting across our viewpoints. After all, people are more likely to listen to friendly and knowledgeable cultural ambassadors.

Successful dialogues require patience, a sympathetic heart and good communication skills. Competent cultural facilitators allow others to explain their beliefs and ideas. They ask thoughtful questions. They use civil voices to express outrage. They also practice self-control.

When we begin making nasty or offensive comments, however, we notify others that we aren't yet ready for primetime dialogues.

Below I've outlined a few techniques that allow us to effectively air differences and persuade our opponents.

• Choose our words carefully.
Language is a currency that can be used to build or to demolish relationships. Use words to lay a strong foundation. Talk in a way that promotes healing and honest conversations. Respect, understanding, common ground and empathy are words  and themes that help inquiring minds stay open. Destruction, divisiveness, evil and hate are words that separate us and lead listeners to pick sides. Communicate in a manner that leads to productive results.

• Explain what we stand for.
We can win more friends and arguments by explaining what we stand for, rather than by talking about the things we oppose. Examples: We should not say that we are against racism; instead, tell others that we seek a nation where all people can excel. Don't say we are against religious discrimination; instead, say we value freedom. Don't say we are against the use of such cultural names as African-American; instead, say we are for a cohesive nation where all communities feel they are Americans.

• Practice the art of inquiry.
Ask thoughtful questions calmly. If we are trying to win the argument, then we aren't really listening — are we? So put aside all thoughts of victory. When we truly listen to opposing views, we show that we care about the issues. When people know we care about them, they listen to us.

• Invest our time well.
Don't spend a lot of time trying to change people who haven't altered a major position or opinion in 20 years. Instead, identify open-minded folks who continuously look for challenges. To advance racial, cultural and religious dialogues, we need skilled facilitators who can push us to grow. Whenever possible, participate in conversations that encourage self-reflection.

• Walk our talk.
Identify our own issues and fix them. Next, share our spectacular strategies with others. Instead of voicing constant complaints about other people or groups, let us count all the ways we are making life better for them. People who continuously blame outsiders for problems within their cultural group lack the credibility needed to influence others.

• Focus on our group first.
Diversity movements get stuck because cultural communities frequently strive to fix other groups before focusing on their own weaknesses. Some black people think white Americans need to change. Some white Americans think Latinos should change. Christians ask Muslims to change and vice versa. Cultural leaders should focus on changing behaviors among their own group's members.

• Perform cultural audits.
Members of diverse societies must upgrade their skills sets. We need new maneuvers for our playbooks. Cultural audits enable us to determine when our actions are inconsistent with our words or intentions. Audits expose our hidden biases.

Creating A Safe Place Where Everyone Belongs

I love my eclectic neighborhood, in part because it gives me an opportunity to view life through differing lenses. This morning, two women are studying for exams in the comfy lobby. Neighbors sometimes gather to listen to music or watch TV on the big screen. The channels change constantly, reflecting the building's generational and racial diversity.

For the most part, neighbors greet and acknowledge one another.  When I first arrived,  I moved a lot my household goods on a garden cart wagon. My old apartment was just a mile a away. Instead of renting a car, I bought a wagon and walked my smaller items - including my cat- over to the new apartment. (Take that, climate change.)

As I entered my new building, looking a little like a bag lady, my new neighbors smiled and greeted me warmly. They didn't make assumptions because I had decided to move by wagon. Instead, they rushed to open the doors so I could get the cart inside. A few volunteered to help me carry heavy items.

Community safety is not a topic that can be left to the police to solve. It is the community's responsibility, and each of us has a role to play.

 Here are a few of the lessons I've learned from my neighbors.

1) Get to know your neighbors. Look out for them. Be available to help.

2) Be available for friends who are experiencing trauma or going through a difficult time. After my dog Gabby died,  friends reached out to me and listened to my endless supply of Gabby stories. I wouldn't have survived that loss without them. When people are showing signs of mental distress, try to listen without interrupting them. Offer encouragement. 

3) Put those car keys away and walk to the grocery store, pharmacy, or the park - if it is feasible The more pedestrians we have out on the streets, the safer we become. Stay in well-lit areas and on streets with other people. 

4) Remain aware of your surroundings. If you are looking down at your phone as you walk or ride the train, you become an easy target. 

5) We need fewer guns and more courage and compassion. A couple of decades ago, I was lugging around a lot of packages when these three teens approached from behind. I didn't see them but another passenger on the platform did. All of a sudden I heard this calm yet booming  voice behind me: "I wouldn't do that if I were you," a man said to the teens. He went on to tell them that he had made a mistake when he was young, and had paid for it dearly. "I don't want that to happen to you," he said. They looked at him, then walked away from me. He created an opening for them to save face, and they took it. 

6) Have a walking buddy. It could be a dog, or a person.

7) Look at people approaching you in the eyes. Don't look down or glance away.  Muggers are less likely to attack someone who took a long look at their face. 

8) Let's resolve to stop limiting our safety concerns to our own neighborhoods. Find ways to support communities that are facing the greatest struggles with hopelessness, fear and violence. In the long run, those compassionate actions and sacrifice can accomplish more than adding guards at the corner. 

9) Be a champion for all of Philadelphia's children. It should not matter if you are related to them.

10) Support the greater good, not just your own financial interests. 

 

 

A New Measure of Character

 

PHILADELPHIA — Every now and then, there comes a time in an adult's life where a child opens our eyes so we can see the world's wonders far more clearly.

My moment arrived more than 15 years ago, as I was standing on a street corner in a West Dallas housing project waiting for the bus to arrive and take the children to their elegant elementary school in tony North Dallas. I, the well-educated reporter, was there to report on them, the poor, disadvantaged kids from the inner city who rode buses to affluent schools in an effort to achieve educational parity.

I wasn't there more than two minutes before our roles as adult and child switched. An obnoxious drunk began pestering me, and making lewd comments. I ignored him and cast my eyes away. A wary group of 6- to 8-year-olds watched the drama unfold. Finally, one of the boys walked up to me, tugged on my jacket and asked, "Lady, is that man bothering you?

 I looked into the eyes of a 6-year-old. "Yes," I said.

The child wandered over to the man, quietly reasoned with him, and my tormentor stumbled away. The children looked at me kindly, the way a rich child might reach out to a child who has no food. I could read the message on their faces, "We hope this woman will be able to make it through the rest of our day."

That experience dramatically changed my life – because it made me reconsider the labels I so freely used to define "other" people, especially those who fell short of societal standards. No doubt there was a disadvantaged person on the street corner that day, but it was the woman with the bachelor's degree and not the children from the projects.

Never again as a journalist would I refer to these students as "poor" or "disadvantaged" because I truly saw the injustice in describing only what they lacked, but never what they had gained.

It took a child to teach a journalist that even those who live in poverty have resiliency, survival skills, wits, intelligence, and abilities that give them distinct advantages, at times, over their better-educated peers.

The terror swirling around the sniper shootings in the affluent communities in Washington, Maryland, and Virginia made me think about these children and their advantages a lot lately.

News shows raced to educate parents on helping sons and daughters cope with fear. Schools closed their doors or locked students inside. Recess and football games were cancelled. People stayed home from work, and the economy dipped as malls, restaurants, and movie theaters lost customers to a competitor with whom they could not compete: fear.

Meanwhile, in urban areas like Washington, Philadelphia, New York, Boston, Los Angeles, Chicago, Dallas, and Houston, where violence and fear are in permanent residence, children continued to play outdoors and, on occasion, even take a standagainst evil.

In Philadelphia in September, an 11-year-old walked into a police station to report a terrible crime. The boy said his father made him sell bags of marijuana on street corners, and when he cried that he didn't want to do it anymore, he had been beaten unmercifully. Fed up, he took it upon himself to turn his father in. Strangers called him a "hero."

Who among us wouldn't desire our children to be so brave, so self-reliant, and so principled? Or to have the heart of Carnell Dawson Sr. and his wife, Angela, of Baltimore who were killed along with five children in an arson fire that police said was set in retaliation for the family's efforts to rid their neighborhood of drugs? The Dawsons were freedom-fighters. If we measured people by character instead of assets, they'd be considered wealthy folk.

My point is that every person and every group is advantaged and disadvantaged in some way.

So, when we use labels, let's use them with care. We have to stop and consider whose yardstick we use to measure others. When we measure others using our yardstick, they tend to come up short. When they measure us with their yardstick, it is we who may end up looking feeble.

Every human being has strengths and weaknesses. That is a lesson we can learn from children if only we take a moment to see the world through eyes of innocence.

• Linda S. Wallace, a former journalist, is a Philadelphia-based cultural coaching consultant and author of the advice column 'The Cultural Coach.'