The Job of Young People

A non-profit leader I know was presented with a letter from younger employees, demanding change to what they called racist and oppressive policies and norms. 

The leader was shocked. Not just by the accusations and demands, but more by the antagonistic approach. 

Why hadn’t they asked her and other members of the leadership team to speak with them about their concerns? She could have assured them that some of their issues were fixable, and explained the challenges with some of the others so that they could collaborate on solutions. 

It hurt her that her team didn’t see her this way. She had been an advocate and organizer for mission-driven causes for her entire career. 

How had she suddenly become “The Man”? 

She wasn’t the only one. I’ve talked to several leaders who have faced internal revolt from younger employees since 2020. 

For some it was outrage over systemic racism; for others, it was return-to-work expectations that provoked an unexpected backlash. 

It’s the job of young people to push us. That’s how we make progress. 

Each generation looks at the one before and decides, do they want to live that way? How could our world be better? 

As a no-longer-young person myself, I have empathy for my peers in this position. It feels awful to be questioned about your commitment when you are used to being viewed as progressive. 

But inclusive leadership requires humility. We may know a lot, but we don’t know everything. 

A good first step is to remember that many of us behaved similarly when we were young.

Next step is to find ways to collaborate—to marry young people’s desire for change with the practical concerns of senior leadership, like keeping an organization solvent and focusing on mission.

The experience of older leaders can help to translate the vision of younger leaders into strategies to achieve a common goal.

Inclusion means everybody has something to offer—and everyone has to feel valued in order to offer what they have. We need to listen and engage, even if the ideas aren’t presented how we would like them to be. 

It hasn’t been easy or comfortable for leaders who have given space for young employees’ voices. But when people feel heard, they can begin to listen. 

The organizations that incorporate all the voices will be the most successful.

Go Public With Your Anti-Racism

Are you openly anti-racist?

Would people know that you are committed to racial justice? 

Have you shared where you are in your journey toward understanding—especially if you are white—and invited conversations about it?

Andrew Bopp, Ph.D. has. 

I caught his LinkedIn post last week, about a tactic he uses when white colleagues or family members say something biased. 

It’s an excellent piece, both because of the advice he gives about interrupting bias, and because of the vulnerable way he names the path he has been on himself. In the first sentence, he describes his “transition from an all-lives-matter-I-am-not-racist white man to a woke, pro-DEI antiracist,” and credits inspirations from his therapist to scholar Ibram Kendi. 

It’s clear that this white man is unlearning the racist and sexist “programming by society” that he grew up with, and I give him kudos for that fundamental work. And I like the approach he describes: using first-person anecdotes to provide alternative perspectives to bias, rather than directly challenging someone and risking a defensive response.

I’m also really struck by the act of posting itself. 

I don’t know Dr. Bopp, but I now know he’s a “pro-DEI antiracist.” 

Based on the active and supportive comments, other people are drawing on his example. In his responses, he continues to model curiosity, humility, and passion about building a fairer world. He’s not apologizing, hesitating, or tiptoeing. 

How often do you hear that from white voices? Especially ones with corporate job titles not explicitly related to DEI, as Dr. Bopp appears to have?

So there are three lessons here:

• the tactic for responding to a biased comment,

• the example of one person’s self-reflection and education,

• and the power of going public with all of it.

Wherever you are on your journey, let the world know about it. Invite reactions. Even if some people criticize you for it. 

Especially if you have a privileged position in your racial identity, gender identity, or job status, where criticisms aren’t likely to have a material impact on your life.

DEI’s attackers are not shy on social media and TV. Its defenders can’t afford to be either.

It’s a little bravery that makes a big difference.

Still Thinking About Claudine Gay

I’m still thinking about Claudine Gay.

I’m imagining a white man in the situation she was in: a Congressional hearing, giving legally informed answers to hours of loaded questions.

I don’t have to imagine, actually. We’ve seen countless white male corporate CEOs testify, on the hook for spreading misinformation or pollution or AI. 

All of them return to their jobs and their nine-digit salaries, even after lackluster or embarrassing performances.

But the Ivy League leaders at this House Committee hearing were women. Their treatment was quite different, both in Congress and the media.

Harvard’s first Black woman president was especially hounded, first about the wording of one of her answers, then about alleged plagiarism from decades-old papers. 

The difference would be shocking, but to Black women it’s actually familiar. 

Dr. Kecia M. Thomas, Juanita Johnson-Bailey, and Rosemary Phelps (with a hat tip to Dr. Shelomi Gomes) call it the “Pet to Threat” phenomenon. Black women may experience a honeymoon when chosen to take on leadership roles. But often the workplace culture “scrutinizes their every move” and “leaves them unsupported in critical times,” as author Brittany Cole puts it. 

That’s Claudine Gay’s story. And the story of far too many Black women professionals. 

A study from Black Women Thriving quantifies the disparities. Of Black women:

• 66% report not feeling emotionally safe at work. 

• Only 33% believe that job performance is evaluated fairly. 

• Only 22% have participated in a mentoring program sponsored by their organization. 

• Only 41% trust that their coworkers will stand up for what is just.

It’s the lack of peer support that really strikes me. 

A Harvard Kennedy School study found that Black women are the only group whose retention goes down the more white colleagues they have. In other words, the more white people work alongside a Black woman, the more likely she is to leave the organization. 

Read that again.

I’m sure this isn’t due to deliberate malice, at least most of the time. After all, LeanIn found that “77% of white employees consider themselves allies to women of color.” 

But they also found that “only 39% of white employees confront discrimination when they see it, and only 21% advocate for new opportunities for women of color.”

That’s a disparity each of us can tackle. Ask yourself: what can I do to support my Black women colleagues? What can I do to remove barriers to their success? 

I’d start with Harvard Business Review’s article “Creating Psychological Safety for Black Women at Your Company” 

Then check in with the Black women you work with. You may not fully understand what they are facing. 

Make sure they know you stand by them. Strategize about what they need.

They’re probably still thinking about Claudine Gay too.