Privilege: practical steps

This is part three in a series on the subject of privilege. Review my first post, privilege definition, and second post, for context.

In the American tech workplace, women and minorities are often marginalized. As a member of the technology marketplace, it’s my responsibility to advocate for the fair treatment of my colleagues. As a privileged person, I don’t have to overcome many of the obstacles that my colleagues face, but I can help tear those obstacles down. There are two ways I’ve offered an opportunity to others at work.

First, I’ve advocated for job access. When I learned that a former colleague wanted to take on a new project, I contacted the manager to offer examples of my friend’s expertise. I was conscious that my friend, despite skill and commitment, had been overlooked for promotion on previous cycles and I was not satisfied that the company would recognize my friend’s dedication in the shadow of more privileged colleagues. His performance was so exceptional that the project lead offered him a permanent position on the team!

Second, I’ve given voice to the absent. The marginalized aren’t invited to the decision-making meetings or sought out for their opinion. They’ve faced this pattern for years and have often given up fighting to be heard. When I’ve attended meetings where the absence of my colleagues is obvious, I ask for an explanation and do my best to speak up for their position as though my absent colleague was there. When my colleague is present but unresponsive, I draw out their voice by opening conversational space and asking for their opinion.

The other category of the vulnerable for whom I advocate at work is my wife and children. My wife doesn’t get a voice in the decision to add an evening meeting. My son can’t articulate his sadness when I’m not home to read him bedtime stories. Have you noticed how business talk about making sacrifices rarely includes the people who sacrifice most? I’ll give you a practical example.

Advocacy Example

Last year, a three-day, company-wide business meeting popped up on my schedule. These events happen infrequently, and the company does a stellar job with these events, so I looked forward to what the event coordinators had planned. The only wrinkle to the schedule was a two-hour evening event labeled “team-building exercises.”

Amie and I discussed the event later that day and realized that it would be a hardship on Amie if I were absent three evenings in a row. At my next one-on-one with my manager, I raised the schedule conflict. I notified him that I might skip out early if these evening events were only happy hours so I could get home to help Amie. The conversation didn’t go well.

The first conversation was heated and ended without a resolution. Neither party had enough information about the event schedule to determine its priority. While I leaned towards flexibility, my manager pushed for absolute commitment. The meeting ended without resolution and a second was scheduled the following day.

The next meeting ended at a stalemate. I promised to accept whatever might come from leaving the event early while my manager reiterated that it could look bad to others. Yet another meeting was scheduled, but no agreement was made. Finally, we agreed it was fruitless to continue and I was left to make my own decision.

Ultimately, I stayed for all the events. But the experience proved to me how costly it can be to advocate, and how crucial it is to give voice to the absent.

I have never been disappointed that I spoke up, even when it cost me, but I have regretted staying silent.