Friday, June 17, 2022

DEI vs. HR

 

Spring 2022: Presenting and Doin' My Thang at Stanford.

It Wasn’t Intentional…

“It wasn’t intentional.” I hear top-level administrators say that a lot when we challenge the lack of diversity in the workplace. That's the problem—we must be intentional in creating and sustaining a dynamic, diverse, and productive workforce. The reproduction of sexist and racist ideologies permeate in ways that show-up in our everyday culture and workplaces. Many institutions invest a lot of time and money educating their workforce on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion or "DEI" practices. This education and/or training is usually parallel to development opportunities connected to human resources practices. Such practices include employment searches. 

Throughout my career there has been much strife regarding the quality of employment searches. Specifically, the recruitment piece and what job qualification barriers may exist allowing staff and faculty to appropriately mirror the students they serve. While our students are becoming more and more diverse, our administrators are often homogeneous; still mostly white and male or white and female AND when women outnumber men, women often are not paid as much as men. Non-binary? Gender fluid? Unfortunately, we are years away from those terms being fully accepted and incorporated into human resources practices. When we go to a restaurant, we expect to have more than two beverage options. However, with gender expression, maybe not so much. I look forward to our collective progress as a society on the gender expression front and elevating trans individuals. Having worked in higher education, it is a privilege to be on the forefront of this progress. Example: Black Lives Matter vs. All Lives Matter? Please. Undergraduates in my area at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas were having that discussion back in 2016—4 years before the tragic murder of George Floyd.

Diversity: The Presence of Difference and That’s All

When we think about diversity, it is important to be explicit about what precisely we are talking about. Typically, administrators will showcase diversity as a pathway to inclusion—if not nirvana. In reality, diversity is simply the presence of difference. There is a diversity of cars in this parking lot. There is a diversity of candy in this dish. Diverse people are just that—lots of different types of people. Research shows diversity in workplace settings actually leads to more conflict. This, because homogeneous work groups frequently know the implicit or “unwritten rules” of engagement when it comes to conflict; what is normal or what are the "norms?" What are the acceptable forms of conflict and what are unacceptable forms of conflict? How do you confront someone? Who defines “respect?” What does respect [even] mean? Is your idea of respect the same as mine? Is there one universally accepted construct of respect? (Spoiler: No.) In a conflict-adverse society—where conflict is viewed as inherently bad and should be avoided—conflict tends to harm the most vulnerable and those who do not have as much power in the organization. Ultimately, conflict can be the point of growth within an organization—but managers needs to engage in the conflict with expertise to allow for future growth. Is your organization suddenly more diverse than it was previously? Be prepared to engage in more conflict. 

Belonging, Inclusion, and Generational Differences

When we think about inclusion, most higher education professionals are truly attempting to talk about belonging, or cultivating a sense of belonging. The goal is for everyone to feel comfortable in the organization. When people feel psychology safe, they express themselves more freely. Yet, the idea that being included for “inclusion” purposes is simply not enough. This is because inclusion does not account for power dynamics. Who has power and control in the organization and who does not? Seniority, title, and positionality typically hold more power and influence—even when that person is wrong. On the flip side, many younger employees lack the maturity to understand that, although being your full authentic self is admirable and desirable—not everyone deserves to experience your full authentic self. Afterall, this is capitalism. Not everyone is worth your time and expertise. Pause. Reflect. Repeat.

We all have to play the game in order to get the paycheck. Knowing that, what are your non-negotiables? Are the people challenging you worth your time and energy and your “full-authentic self?" Likely not. Some folks do not deserve to hear what I have to say; so, I’m going to keep my mouth shut—until it matters most. "What are the consequences to my team or myself if I do not take a stand or speak-up in this situation?" Is it worth it? Do I need to lay down, flip it and/or reverse it?" I like to think of this as different layers of “pick your battles.” Frankly, this is maturity. I expect to hear high school students, undergraduates, and new professionals say “I’m gonna be my full, authentic self no matter what.” However, those with more experience need to ration our energy better than that. Afterall, we are not getting younger. These divergent approaches elucidate competing values that are rooted in generational differences amongst various age groups in the workplace.

More than Burning Crosses

When we think about sensitive topics such as identity, race, discrimination etc. it is critical to understand this is more than the Ku Klux Klan burning crosses on lawns; that is an extreme. Harmful stereotypes and ideologies are learned behavior based off of how we are socialized. This is all reinforced by families and institutions such as schools, media, churches etc. Boys wear blue and girls wear pink. We learn these “rules” at very young ages. Who taught you that? Is that true in every culture? Why is it true for you? We must UN-learn many “truths” we were taught at a young age so that we do not perpetuate harmful systems and behaviors; these behaviors negatively impact those in our new families and other people in the workplace who are more vulnerable than we are. 

Education Level

The snobbery in higher education is real. By requiring a master’s degree as a minimum qualification, you are excluding many first-generation students from opportunities for advancement. What does your organization have the capacity to teach? Can a certain number of years of professional experience substitute for another degree? Do you value military experience? Why or why not? Do you value trade experience? Why or why not? Think about it. Especially think about it if your organization is more homogeneous.

Manipulating Search Processes

Throughout my career, I have witnessed many hiring managers manipulate search processes so their homies can get hired. This, at the expense of other qualified candidates typically outside of the institution. If you want to hire an interim, hire an interim. Just please do not waste your institution’s time and money interviewing people who clearly do not have a fair shot at the actual position. You can invest time and money into developing your talent upfront or you can invest money in a employment discrimination lawsuit later on. You pick.

Always Learning

In the Spring of 2022, I had the honor of co-presenting and developing a workshop on these topics with Dr. Emelyn dela Peña, who is now Vice President for Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles. We explored many of these nuanced concepts for our full-time professional staff and resident fellows in Residential Education at Stanford. In that presentation we covered: implicit bias, microagressions, and microaffirmations. How did I learn this stuff? I read books. I watched documentaries. I listened to those around me. I made a conscious effort to do those things. I do not consider myself an expert. Rather, I try to empathize with folks by remembering when I first learned something new about identities different than my own. I look forward to continuing these conversations and therefore getting better and better with age and practice.

Thursday, June 16, 2022

Purrfect Match

Me and Garfield. He is wearing his lion mane.

Throughout my time working professionally in Residence Life/Residential Education in Student Affairs, I have been privileged enough to work for institutions that have pet policies allowing staff to have animals live with them. This is crucial for live-in professionals. It is tough to work where you live and live where you work. In order to fulfill your job responsibilities in an authentic manner, not only do you have to meet basic needs, your home should be comfortable. After all, live-in professionals sacrifice a lot when they choose to live amongst college students. You lose privacy. At one of my earlier gigs, students told me they sneakily came up to one of the windows of my apartment one night and then said: “we saw you in your boxers working out with dumbbells.” Cringe. Usually your apartment is outfitted with extremely sturdy fire-rated furniture that is far from glamourous. Regardless, there is always a give and take to the decisions we make.

As a child, we never had small animals as pets. My mom already had to clean-up after me and my brother. Mom did not want to clean-up after pets.

As an adult, I have now owned many pets over the years. I would like to share more about my furry friends to readers in future posts. Now, we honor my cats, named after cartoons, that helped me start my professional journey.

I did not adopt any furry pets of my own until I moved-out and started working on at a job with a live-in pet policy. I was living in New York City and working in Residential Education at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT). No fashion for me, just res life. The school had a pet policy for live-in staff such as myself. Many of my colleagues had small dogs and cats.

Felix

Felix was a tuxedo cat. He was part black and part white—just like me. Felix was abused by his original owners. They shot him with a BB gun. Felix’s tail had to be partially amputated. Felix came from Angelical Cats Animal Rescue in Manhattan. I adopted Felix and his foster dad dropped him off at my studio apartment. This was the day before Thanksgiving in 2009.

Felix was a good cat. Small, quiet, and polite. He always looked stunning in his single-breasted Dolce & Gabbana tuxedo. Yet, he was very reserved. I thought simply” “he might be lonely.” I figured I would get Felix a friend.

Garfield in 2009

Sweet Cat in Manhattan Needs a Good Home

It was December 2009. "Tik Tok" was not a social media app, but a song by a new artist named Ke$ha. Meanwhile, Manhattan was digging-out of a major snowstorm. Me? I searched Craigslist for a potential match for Felix. I came across a listing entitled "Sweet Cat in Manhattan Needs a Good Home." Garfield’s owner was a young woman who was moving back to Tennessee after living in the city. She originally cancelled Garfield’s adoption with me after I told her I was interested. The reason for the cancellation was Garfield was supposed to be a Christmas gift for another Craigslist prospect. I said to myself “Oh, well. It wasn’t meant to be.” Then I get a message on my phone stating the other person backed-out of the adoption and I could still adopt Garfield if I wanted. Then, I heard the voice of my grandpa whisper in my left ear: go get that cat. 

Garfield is the first and only Craigslist purchase I ever made. As Garfield traveled home with me on the subway, his quiet meow contrasted his huge 16-pound frame. This trip on the subway would be the first of many trips Garfield would take with me. We went to the vet and eventually moved to Philadelphia, then to Las Vegas, then to Henderson, Nevada, and eventually to Palo Alto, California. When we got to Stanford, I told Garfield he is my “from sea to shining sea” kitty. Merica.

Felix died in June of 2016—with Garfield by his side. Garfield would go on to out-live two other cats: MC Skat Kat Spinderella and Oro. I have many fond memories with Garfield. I remember petting Garfield after the 1 October mass shooting in Las Vegas. I was working at UNLV at the time. “All those people died” I told my big orange-ish kitty as I stroked his fur.

I often use pets as a way to soften my image and appear more approachable to other people. Ironically, my connection to animals humanizes me more in the eyes of constituents. This is crucial because I am frequently the only man of color in the spaces I am in, if not the only Black man. I am automatically perceived as threatening to others—no matter how many times I kiss a kitty cat on the forehead. 

Nowadays, not allowing pets with live-in professional staff is nearly unheard of. So many professionals adopted pets during the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. This turned so many non-pet owners into pet-owners who love their fur babies. Yes, we treat them as children since they are extensions of our family. Pets are comforting. People who do not understand do not need to. However, when it is my decision, I will always allow pets for my live-in staff.

Garfield and Felix


Friday, April 29, 2022

Kindergarten Cop

 

Picture Day 1990. This was my "going out" vest purchased from JC Penney at The Citadel shopping mall. 


Kindergarten Cop

Most psychology research suggests that children form key aspects of their personality around the age of five. One of my fondest memories at such a young and impressionable age is a trip where my grandfather took me to watch the movie “Kindergarten Cop” starring Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Growing-up, my mom worked very hard. She still does. My mom is a proud hair-dresser. She still does hair. Fabulously single and self-employed, my mom always did what she needed to do taking care of her two boys: myself and my older brother who is eight years older than me.

My brother and I were fortunate enough to be raised with our grandparents in the same household. As we do in real life, we’ll refer to them as Grandma and Grandpa. Grandma was an Army wife and part-time housekeeper. She loved playing Bingo and drinking Crown Royal whiskey. Did I mention she was from Louisiana? Grandpa was retired from the Army and a professional chef by trade. Grandpa was Sous-chef at the Penrose Room, a swanky restaurant at Colorado’s swankiest hotel—The Broadmoor.

As my Mom did hair throughout the week, she would save her tips. Cash. Then, at the end of the week on Sunday (because my mom worked Saturdays) we would go on our weekly excursion for entertainment. Yes, my Mom worked on Saturdays. This, because she has to work when other people are not working since that is when they have time to get their hair did. As a child, I was always surprised, and somewhat annoyed, at how many people did not understand why my mom worked on Saturdays. “Gasp! Your mom works on weekends? Yes, stoopid.” Anyway. On Sundays, we would go to the Citadel Mall in colorful Colorado Springs.

I would ride in the backseat as my mom drove through the busy traffic on Academy Blvd. The radio was always tuned to 98.9 Magic FM. Probably the first time I heard Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up” was likely during one of these car rides to the mall.

Once we arrived, we first stopped by the pet store and admired the animals. Then, we walked around to different stores and through the food court. Back in the day, The Citadel had these decorative fountains in the middle of the food court. Every few minutes the fountains would slowly grow taller and taller and then quickly shrink back down. The thrill of the fountains growing was very delightful for me as a child. I was always amazed at how the tiniest sprouts would shoot-up to these tall looming pillars of aqua delight and wonder. Think: Bellagio but a lot smaller and in a 1980’s food court with lots of turquoise accents and fake plants. I’m sure it was even more impressive for my tiny five-year-old stature.

Then, we would get back in the car and drive across the street to Citadel Crossing shopping center. Yes. Quite the original title. Here, we would indulge in the one dollar priced movies. Dollar movies. Yes, we would see the last matinee because that’s what we could afford. My mom would stuff her purse with lots of snacks and strut us into the movie theater. She was not paying for movie theater snacks. Full-price movie tickets were not in the budget and neither were overpriced treats from the theater snack bar. 

After the movies, we would go back in the car and head to Peter Piper Pizza. Think: Chuck E. Cheese, but without the giant mouse and a lot more Black and brown people. Don’t be scared. It was fun! There, we would take Mom’s tip money to get game tokens to play arcade games and pinball. The pizza was tasty too!

Those were the days. Those were Sundays.

The lead-up to Sunday was, naturally, Saturday. On Saturday nights, we would watch the tv shows “Cops”, “America’s Most Wanted” and then “American Gladiators.” All in that order before going to bed. Thank you, KXRM-TV FOX 21. However, on one particular Saturday, my five-year-old equilibrium was disrupted; thrown way, way off. You see, the universe converged in such a way that:

  •       Grandma: Went to play Bingo
  •       Mom: Went out with friends (how dare she!)
  •       Brother: Went to a sleepover (as many 13-year-olds do)
  •       Grandpa: Came back from work and had to go to bed early
  •       Orlando: Had to stay home

I could not understand why I was not allowed to go with my older brother. Yet, I was simply too young. My mom told me I needed to stay at home with Grandpa and go to bed. In fact, she dressed me in these ratty light blue-colored pajamas that I used to wear all the time, and put me to bed. I remember her shutting off the light and closing the bedroom door as she went out on the town. (Maybe a wedding or a night club? That's none of my business.)

Before I could fall asleep, Grandpa opened the door and turned the light on. I was dazed and confused. You know, but for a five-year-old. Grandpa told me to get my coat. I asked: “Where are we going?” “Just go get your coat and put your shoes on” he replied. I put my coat on over those ratty blue pajamas. At some point, before getting into to the car I learned where we were going. It was to the movies. At night! I was SO excited. I had only been to the movies during the day. I asked Grandpa if Pops could come. Pops was my teddy bear. Grandma bought him for me during a trip I took with her to Louisiana; Pops came from a Walgreens. They had a giant bin of black teddy bears, brown teddy bears, and white teddy bears. I picked a white bear. Foreshadowing. Anyway. Me and Pops were headed-out for our OWN night on the town—with Grandpa! Citadel Crossing, Sat-ur-day NIGHThere we come!

We rolled-up to the Citadel Crossing. It was all lit up in purple and turquoise neon in all its glittering 1980’s glory! The movie theater was crowded. Young people were there with lots of energy. The vibe was very different than what I was accustomed to during the sleepy Sunday matinees. Grandpa, Pops, and I stood in line to buy fresh, buttery popcorn. This was full-price popcorn to accompany full-price tickets. Swanky, right? Then we went into the actual theater. Pops got his own seat (because I treat my people right). The movie was “Kindergarten Cop.” “Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina.” That was my favorite line in the movie—said by a character my age—and about all I could remember of the film. 

Grandpa took me home and tucked me into bed. I slept soundly into the next day, Sunday.

Several years after starring in movies like "Kindergarten Cop" and, my personal favorite, "Terminator 2" Arnold Schwarzenegger would later serve as governor of California. Many years after that, I would move to California to continue my career in higher education. On a trip back home to Colorado, I visited Mom. She still lives in the house I grew up in. She and I were driving somewhere, I cannot recall where. I do remember telling her: “Yeah, I was watching “Entertainment Tonight” recently. They did a story on the 30th anniversary of the movie “Kindergarten Cop.” The kids in that film are about my age now. I remember when Grandpa snuck me out of bed so we could go see that movie in the theater.” “What?” Mom replied. “I never knew that.” My mom never would have let me out of the house in those ratty blue pajamas. Apparently, both Grandpa and I were good at keeping secrets.

Grandpa 🖤

Me wearing the ratty blue pajamas. The stuffed sheep pictured was a gift from Grandpa; he would call me "Bobeep" because I always carried around that sheep. Not pictured: Pops the teddy bear. 

Thursday, April 28, 2022

One Step at a Time

 

Stair climb training. I really should be using my arms and pushing off the guard rails. 

One Step At a Time

As a young child, I had many interests: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, bike riding, Bazooka Joe bubble gum that only costs 5-cents with the comics inside the wrapper. I had some eccentric interests too including architecture and skyscrapers. I was fascinated with the idea of urban living—being peppered with media images of places like New York City (where the Ninja Turtles lived in the sewer system) and Los Angeles—all heavily influenced by TV and movies largely produced on both coasts of the United States.  

Fast-forward to 2012. I had just moved to Las Vegas to begin working at a major university. There are plenty of tall buildings in Las Vegas. However, the tallest was—and still is—The Stratosphere. The Stratosphere is a hotel, casino, and tower in the middle of Las Vegas; right in between Downtown and the famous Las Vegas Strip.

Built by maverick businessman Bob Stupak in 1996, The Stratosphere or “The Strat” complex of buildings includes the tallest free-standing observation deckwhich is also one of the tallest buildings in the United States. To literally stand-out in a place that is all about being flashy and different is a major statement. I’m all about making statements.

Yes, the original (and later phased-out) World’s Fair theme of The Strat was quite cheesy. Still, there is an elegance and allure of the tower that always inspired me to reach higher.

As I was getting acclimated to my new home in Las Vegas, I saw a clip on the local news of the “Scale the Strat” event. It was a bunch of people running up the stairs (in intervals) inside of the emergency exit up the 108 floors to the top of the tower. It’s roughly 1,400 steps up to the top. The event is a fundraiser for the American Lung Association non-profit. People doing something out-of-the-ordinary (and perhaps a bit strange) brings awareness to respiratory health and clean air quality. I thought: “I could do that! How hard could it be?

Running up 108 floors is a lot of physical activity. Let’s explore that aspect. Growing up, I was never an athlete. Although I took P.E. as an elective my senior year of high school, I was always drawn to choir, drama, and TV production. Never sports or even weight lifting. In my 20’s I was “gymtimitated.” I was intimidated by the gym environment. I did not have the confidence to go to the gym nor did I feel I had the competency to workout properly with all the equipment. Also, people. People at the gym. Managing people and their energy, mostly at work, is exhausting for us introverts. As I got older, I wanted to prioritize my health and wellness in more productive ways. In addition to exploring personal trainer options in the area and researching proper nutrition, I thought—I could “Scale the Strat.” That’s a goal I’d like to reach.

One year later in 2013, I registered for “Scale the Strat”. While raising the minimum fundraising amount, I trained for three months leading-up to the event by running-up the seven floors of the building where I lived. I could reach the roof in 28 seconds. That’s fast! Unfortunately, that’s not sustainable for 108 floors. Womp. Womp. The day of the actual event, I sprinted as hard as I could. I needed to stop at every oxygen station on the way up. The paramedics asked me if they needed to take me down; they thought maybe I was too exhausted to finish the race safely. It took me almost one hour to get up all the 1,400 steps to the top of the tower. However, I pushed through and I made it to the top.

In 2013, I very much thought of this run like a “bucket list” item. I would do it once and that was that. Never again.

2020. I’m at home in lock-down during Pandemic 1.0. I’m learning all about the impacts of COVID-19 on lung health and respiratory nurses. Then my brain remembered my past connection to lung health. I recalled the American Lung Association AND the stair climb in Las Vegas. By 2020, I was in a lot better shape both physically and mentally after starting a new job at Stanford. The 2020 "Scale the Strat" took place just a few weeks before COVID-19 shut down the world. The 2021 event took place outside at a local stadium (not the Stratosphere). At that point, I set a goal of completing the 2022 “Scale the Strat.” Yes. Again. All 1,400+ steps up to floor 108. 

I fundraised again and had the support of wonderful new colleagues at my new-ish job. In January of 2022, I began training. This training consisted of running-up the stairs of one of the tallest buildings at Stanford—where my office is conveniently located. I worked with my personal trainer to experiment with different paces. I properly prepared for this climb as someone older and wiser. In February 2022 I went back to Las Vegas and I completed the “Scale the Strat” building climb again. This time, I finished in under 15 minutes. No stopping and I did not need to visit at any oxygen stations. It was exhilarating! I remember thinking: “This is as close as I will ever get to the Olympics. (Shout-out to two-time Olympian, Figure Skater Maria Butyrskaya).  I came in number 62 out of 367 climbers and finished just outside of the top 10 in my age group. Side note: As I am closer to 40 years in age, I'm still unsure if it is fair to compete against 30 year-olds 😉.

What I appreciate most about this experience was having a goal outside of work. Professional goals are important. However, we do not always have control over the stressors of work and capitalism. My spirit benefitted from having something to focus on outside of my professional identity. I also recognized my growth allowing myself to be more vulnerable and asking for help. Many cisgender men are socialized not to ask for help in favor of assumed competence. That’s nonsense. This time, I asked for help and I did much better.

In fact, I was so inspired I decided to complete my new hometown stair climb in the Bay area. I completed the San Francisco stair climb in April 2022. The race was held at 555 California St. in downtown SF. I finished 1,300 steps in just over 13 minutes. Elite runners can complete these races in under 10 minutes. For the SF climb, I finished in the top 25% of runners. Now, I have new goals. By the way, why do we even have stairs if everyone can use a ramp? That's an important conversation for later. For me, I like reaching higher. One step at a time. 

How it started vs. how it is going

2022 Scale the Strat Time

Victorious

2022 San Francisco Stair Climb at 555 California St.

Much Better Technique

Like Sands Through the Hourglass: Reflections on Five Years at Stanford University

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