in solidarity…

response_recipe.jpg

by Sonja N. Robinson, Ph.D.

[Imagine text: Cut to the chase: There is a recipe for an impactful response.

  1. Start with empathy (statement of solidarity/apology).

  2. Point out the personal stake and behavior change (specific acknowledgement of the problem).

  3. Commit to action and outcomes (set up the process for monitoring and reporting your progress).]

This is a moment.

Embed from Getty Images

You can sense it. Something in you is itching to action, wanting to respond and yet you don’t quite know how. You are seeing various individuals and organizations do their version of the dance and you are starting to sway a bit with reciprocal motion. All around you, the air is alight with electricity and you inhale and exhale tension with every breath. You know people are watching, and since they also feel that underlying sense of “something” percolating, they are looking for your response, and wondering if it will be a model to follow or a case study in failure.

This is a moment. You are afraid to let it pass you by for many reasons. Maybe because you let the last one pass by, or maybe because you can tell that this one is not going to fade from top of mind for a long while - the wounds are deep and connected to previously unhealed hurts. Whatever the reason, this moment feels different from the rest, and that’s why you keep coming back to the screen, keep scrolling through the stories, and keep watching those who are watching you back.

It’s like that scene in the movie where a decision must be made and it either takes the protagonist to a hard-wrought victory or to a moral/spiritual/emotional/physical denouement of defeat. Yep, this is that moment; painted across the canvas of real life. When you sat in the audience or read the book, you knew exactly what you would do if the alien ship (read as: external threat) landed in your backyard… Well, welcome to the plot, my friend. What will you do?

“...this moment feels different from the rest, and that’s why you keep coming back to the screen, keep scrolling through the stories, and keep watching those who are watching you back.

As much as I feel lifted by the solidarity statements and relieved that some folks out there are actually getting the point of the rage crying out against injustice… As much as I am listening to the vocal reaction (powerful) and silence (equally powerful) of companies boldly taking a stance about human life and human rights… And as much as I am making brand loyalty adjustments based on these statements (more Nike and Ben & Jerry’s esteem for me), I am seeking something more.

If you are one of those individuals or organizations looking to take charge of this moment and looking to be present for yourself and those you lead/represent, the time for the simple statement of support is quickly passing (if it has not passed already). Whether or not you make it through that sliver of a time window, and whether or not it gains you a few points with your target audience, I dare say that it will not be enough. 

Coming from a sports background, I am especially tuned into conversations revolving around those industries. I, too, raise an eyebrow at the silence of the collegiate athletic directors and head coaches. A part of me thinks that we (the public) should not expect to hear their thoughts and analyses since they are likely reaching out to their athletes behind the scenes (I sincerely hope that is the case) but another part of me thinks that for the sake of these same athletes, the leaders who find it necessary to publicly comment about every other aspect of their players’ lives and performance need to show up here. For example, if we are friends and you effusively support me when we are alone but abandon me when others are around, I would need to rethink the whole “we are friends” premise immediately. 

“...the leaders who find it necessary to publicly comment about every other aspect of their players’ lives and performance need to show up here.

This is a moment - and whether you say something or not, you are making a statement with your response. Here is what I am looking for now: what will you do? That is, how will your behavior reflect your newfound realization that black lives matter? If you are aware that you have been implicit in your support of a status quo that marginalizes and creates disparate outcomes, what will you do to alter it? And, I do mean, specifically. It’s time for the receipts.

So after the statement of support and solidarity, I am looking for the next sentence… the one that says:

As a result, we are actively changing our hiring practices to mitigate and eradicate the policies that create and maintain a workforce structure that allows white employees to get hired at higher salaries with fewer educational and experience markers than their Black counterparts.

That example might be too on the nose for most, but the point is, the response needs to be personal and true. For that to happen, there must be some reconciliation and understanding of where you are, how you show up, who you are seen as, and why your intent is not the same as your impact.

How do you do that work? If you don’t have the skills or capabilities to do that for yourself, then you need to call somebody. You can call me and my crew, call some other consultant, call a friend, or even call together some of your like-minded employees who saw your organizational culture burning down long before the fires started in the streets. 

It begins with a deep analysis of your operations (practices) and includes a review of all potential levers (inputs and stressors) that prompt reactions. It puts indicators (alerts) on the flow of things so you can monitor when all is good or when the alignment is shifting off course. What follows is not a pat on the back but a commitment to accountability. Just as a statement of support or apology is a snapshot that only speaks to one incident, the addition of the pledge to acknowledge and source out bad behavior is simply that: a one-time pledge. If you are to show a true commitment to improvement, invite your audience along for the results. Tell them how you will routinely show progress, measure improvement, and what they can do to become part of your personal movement.

While the above example referred to an organizational challenge and response, these same principles work for the individual: statement of solidarity/apology, followed by specific acknowledgement of the problem area(s), and finalized with the pledge to action and invitation to accountability. Here’s another example:

“In order to challenge the areas of elitism and learned bias/prejudice in my own life, I am going to read a book written by an author from a different race who is writing about an experience unfamiliar to my personal worldview. I am going to post a lesson I have learned about myself and how I will apply that lesson weekly until I finish the book.”

I’ve started to see some public figures putting out statements of apology recently. Some of these individuals have felt misunderstood by previous statements or actions, or have been accused of being out of tune or dismissive to the plight of others. Their comments range from “I’m sorry you were offended,” to “I misspoke and am sorry,” yet the statements are still missing some of the key elements of remorse and reconciliation. The apology is hollow if you aren’t going to a) change so you do no more harm, and b) bring me along for the proof of transformation.

This is a moment. Big or small, we each will decide what our response will be - even if that response is to be belligerent and ignore it. Just know that everyone is watching you watching them. If you are a leader of yourself, a family, a partnership, a team, or an organization, the challenge for you is if you will allow this moment to pass you by, or if you will take advantage of the opportunities and rise to the occasion, making sustainable and meaningful course corrections right now before crossing the points of no return. 

This is the moment. Think about it. Then, respond.

Or not.

Next
Next

checking on your black colleagues? don’t forget your own journey