During the first week of June 2020 I had one-on-one conversations with four white male CEOs, pushing them to publicly speak out in support of black colleagues, staff members, and education customers. At that time, none of them were planning to speak publicly, though they were all paying attention to what was happening in the world in response to George Floyd’s homicide (among innumerable others). Fear of backlash and concern about the appropriateness of their voice were two themes that emerged from those conversations. I didn’t let them off the hook. Here’s what happened.

So, what happens when a white male executive (me) speaks to other white male executives? 

The start of change...  

I originally wrote “Change” in answer to that question. Upon re-reading, however, I needed to be clearer that when someone takes a first step, they have not completed the journey. Likewise, the start of change is not transformational. They are just steps. We won’t recognize change until long after it’s actually happened. So, what happened was really the start of change. 

The CEOs who did take some form of action received my push in the spirit it was intended and three of them came out publicly with a statement of solidarity. They might have come to that place on their own, though it seems unlikely. They certainly would not have arrived there as quickly. However, three CEOs did start to change and are now better positioned to affect change more broadly. They accepted a push that would have been met with curious stares just two months ago. They reflected on their own place in education and on how they need to use their voices. To a varying degree, they realized that, like me, they are late to the movement but they can no longer stay on the sidelines. They are looking closely at hiring, operations, and cultural dynamics within their organizations so that their teams are empowered. Now, just so we are all on the same page, one statement doesn’t amount to lasting change. Reflection is not the same as action. And good intent means little without lasting impact. Yet, it’s a start, and that’s what so many of us lacked the courage to do for far too long.

What about the CEO who chose not to act?

Well….

Interestingly - I edited the question above. It originally read, “What about the CEO that didn’t act?” But I rewrote it specifically to state that he is making a choice not to act. Let me repeat...he is making a conscious choice to remain silent. 

It could be that I didn’t have the language necessary to break through. I’m pretty good at this work, but not experienced enough and certainly not an expert. CEO #4 was open to taking my call and listened with what seemed like an open mind. He was cordial, asked questions, and thanked me for calling him. However, his language contained many of the key phrases that reflect implicit bias and white supremacy. By stating “the national response to this whole thing has been looting and rioting,” he is demonstrating a lack of empathy and understanding that so many white male executives fail to see in themselves. I shudder to what that organizational culture must be like for people of color.  

CEO #4 was polite and respectful, but that offers no reprieve from the choice not to act. It’s a shame, but not a surprise. Racism comes in many forms; in this case it took the form of one white man “politely” (and unconsciously) expressing racist views to another. I sometimes wonder how CEO #4 would have responded to my call to action if I were black or a woman, or a black woman. I think he’d have been scared shitless, but more from a liability standpoint than a place of authentic concern.

These four reactions demonstrate what happens when someone uses their voice. Change happens in the streets, in the classroom, and in the boardroom, but it also happens when no one is watching. It happens when you make that one-on-one phone call to someone you know and respect, even if you put that relationship at risk.

If you are a CEO or organizational leader reading this, you have a special responsibility to lead by example. Everyone else...we have the responsibility to call on peers, managers, and company leaders to do more and to do better.  You might lose a customer, get passed over for promotion, or even lose your job. But the fear of losing a client pales in comparison to the fear that people of color have when they walk out the door. 

And for you, the others I am writing this for, I hope you heed my call to make calls of your own. This goes for anyone, but I’m particularly concerned with the education industry - my industry. No provider in education should claim to address inequities in education unless it demonstrates a lasting commitment to change, starting with a very clear, very public anti-racism stance. 

I made four important calls and am encouraged by the changes I see as a result. It’s not ground-breaking and I’m not the only one, yet I suspect there are others out there wondering if they should make a similar call to someone they know. The answer is yes. And if you need help figuring out what to say, call me. 

Thanks. 

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Please Note: 

I am mindful of what Robin DiAngelo writes in White Fragility about the efforts of white progressives: “...to the degree that we think we have arrived, we will put our energy into making sure that others see us as having arrived.” This is a really important statement and keeps me in check when evaluating my motives for sharing. I was hesitant to post this article because my personal journey is not everyone’s journey, and it is also not altogether unique. Many others are fighting (and have been fighting) for social justice quietly and out loud, so this reflection piece is offered humbly and with the hope it might serve as a model for others who are unsure about whether and how they can contribute their voices. Please call me, or call me out, if the language or tone is not resonating. 

It is also worth noting that this article is not an instrument to promote companies that are taking positive steps, nor is it a space to publicly shame companies that are not strong enough to take a stand. There’s a place for that, but it’s not my place.