True Color

In today’s charged political climate, many of us choose to remain silent, anticipating that anything we say, no matter how well-intentioned and reasoned, will cause grievous offense and that the ensuing rage would cost us dearly. We are careful with whom we share our thoughts and if we dare, signal in subtle ways our honest leanings.

While in London this past weekend, I’ve figured out how I can show my true colors. Not red, black, white, and green. Nor blue and white. Not even red, white, and blue.

With Remembrance Day approaching, people had on red poppies in honor of military casualties from the many wars waged since the first world war when this practice started. Citizens of the United Kingdom and other Commonwealth countries pin facsimiles of the blood-colored flower on their clothing and lay red wreaths at war memorials.

Although I’ve seen remembrance poppies before, I’ve never seen white ones. Yet there they were, not as plentiful as the red ones, but present, here and there.

Like the red ones, white poppies are worn around Remembrance Day. In 1933, members of the Co-operative Women’s Guild, many of whom had lost loves ones in World War I, distributed white poppies as a reminder of the vow made by nations after the bloodshed, “never again.”

White poppies symbolize three things. First, the remembrance of all war victims: civilians and members of the armed forces, as well as refugees and victims of colonial conflicts. Second, the objection to war and militarism, along with their justification and normalization. Third, a commitment to peace and nonviolence.

Peace Pledge Union, one of the UK's oldest pacifist organizations declare, “In wearing white poppies, we remember all those killed in war, all those wounded in body or mind, the millions who have been made sick or homeless by war and the families and communities torn apart. We also remember those killed or imprisoned for refusing to fight and for resisting war.”

As I wear a white poppy, I will think of the ongoing conflicts in Gaza, in Ukraine, and in many other places of drug wars, terrorist insurgencies, ethnic conflicts, and civil wars, where countless innocent children, women, and men have been killed and more than 114 million displaced. And I will ask myself, what can I do in my own small way to foster peace?

Honestly On Dishonesty

I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but “honestly” seems to be this generation’s “literally.” I’ve heard twenty-somethings and younger use the word every second sentence, as if whoever they were speaking to doubted what they said or worse, they habitually lie.

Though honestly, I have been mulling about dishonesty lately. The New Yorker magazine recently published an article about the alleged data tampering of celebrity academics who studied, of all things, dishonesty. Gideon Lewis-Kraus narrates how Dan Ariely and Francesca Gino manipulated data to suit their desired findings, which literally brought them fame and fortune and now, notoriety.

I can see how academics can be tempted to “massage” data to achieve statistically significant results. It’s publish or perish after all. Some individuals might convince themselves that their data distortion is inconsequential. They know that done just right, their “tweaks” will be inconspicuous, totally harmless. They calculate the probability of exposure close to nil. Until their research makes them the next Ariely and Gino, under investigation by Data Colada, the professorial triumvirate that exposes fraud in peer-reviewed scientific papers.

At the start of this fall semester, I had a conversation about the use of ChatGPT by students. I shared my opinion with a colleague that if a student chooses to use AI and claim full authorship for their work, then the one they’d be cheating and hurting the most would be themselves. Especially if they get away with it. How can they take pride in their Ivy League degree if they know that they didn’t deserve it? My friend countered that for some people it’s about gaming the system. In other words, winning is of higher value than honesty.

Author and educator Irshad Manji recently posted on LinkedIn that “colleges and universities need to be offering a truly liberal education. By ‘liberal,’ I don't mean anti-conservative or even progressive. By ‘liberal,’ I mean curiosity-led; an education in which students, professors, staff and administrators embrace inquiry rather than fear inquisition.” Or rather than chase status and advancement. An education that teaches us how to be good persons and citizens.

How May I Help?

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you worked here.” A woman remarked when she realized that I in fact didn’t work there, was a customer just like her, and that she was interrupting my conversation with the sales associate. Now, I was not dressed in the store’s distinctive uniform … what could possibly have made her assume that I was there to serve?

At another time and place, I would have retorted, “Is it because I’m brown?” I couldn’t help myself. After three decades in the U.S., I have been mistaken countless times for the help, from the delivery guy to the building supervisor to the bodega stock boy to the receptionist of the company I ran. Not that there is anything wrong with such labor – my first jobs in America included selling shoes and restocking school supplies – but there is a whole lot wrong with acting reflexively based on ingrained stereotypes such as black and brown folks holding subordinate or servile positions.

I suspect that it was unconscious or implicit bias on the part of the woman who interrupted me earlier. Same goes with the many others who treated me as they did without much thought or consideration.

During my first year in New York, when I was studying arts administration, I rang the doorbell of a gallery in the Upper East Side, to do research on an early twentieth century artist. A woman looked up from her desk and shouted through the locked glass door, “I didn’t order anything.” In the late 2000s, while my husband and I rented at a “luxury” apartment building in Washington, D.C., a fellow tenant entered the elevator I was in and told me askance, “You’re coming to my apartment later to fix the lights, right?” Our building supervisor was Salvadoran, and I swear, we did not look alike (he was lighter skinned and taller). And so forth and so on and here we are, in 2023.

I try to be conscious of my thoughts and reactions and this time, I caught the spark before I could combust. I thanked the salesperson who helped me, smiled at the woman and said, “She’s all yours.”

Wisdom for Worries

As a new semester begins, I have no reason to be anxious. I have taught the same courses before and my school’s DEI initiative, which I lead, is well into its third year with trainings and events lined up for this academic year. I will be undergoing a major faculty review this term, but even then, I’ve submitted the best teaching portfolio I could muster and I’d like to think that my record speaks for itself. No reason for any trepidation whatsoever, right?

Well, fact is, I do feel a little apprehensive. Not a surprise, really. Last fall was tough and traumatic. I was accused of racism and antisemitism and was grossly overwhelmed by the demands of my diversity role, which was, is, supposed to take but a fraction of my time and energy. I could see myself careening into a wall but couldn’t stop. I crashed spectacularly. I was tempted to walk away from it all.

Thankfully, I didn’t. I had the ear of friends and the wise counsel of colleagues. The spring semester was mostly uneventful and over the summer, I purposely and selfishly slowed down. I set boundaries and took care of myself. And I leaned on philosophy. Not the esoteric kind, but the practical sort that helps us lead good lives. In particular, Buddhism, which I’ve subscribed to for years, and Epicureanism and Stoicism, which I lately discovered.

From Zen, I sat and calmed my thoughts. From Buddhism and Epicureanism, I remembered that suffering and anxiety stem from inordinate desires. From Stoicism, I accepted the fact – or am trying to anyway – that few things are under my control and oh so many others are not. From all, memento mori, life is fleeting.

So, here I am. I’ve done my best and intend to continue doing so. That I can control. What I can’t control is the future and how those around me think and act, so to quote Alfred E. Neuman, “What, me worry?”

DEI and Ethics

A few days ago, a couple of friends and I were talking about the practice of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) and organizational ethics. We all agree that DEI – despite the recent Supreme Court ruling on Affirmative Action and prevailing angst over its implications for nonprofit and corporate DEI initiatives – will survive, in one form or another. Whether you believe in it or not, DEI has been proven to be good for business and that ought to be incentive enough in our capitalistic society! Moreover, younger generations of the labor force expect and clamor for a more diverse and inclusive workplace.

At a deeper level, centering DEI in our organizations is the right thing to do. Employees, regardless of social identities chosen by or imposed on them, must be treated fairly. In the U.S., DEI is also part of the ongoing work to rectify past and address current racial and social inequities.

My thought partners and I believe that equity is the paramount value in DEI as it stems from the fundamental belief that each of us has intrinsic worth and is entitled to being treated with dignity and respect. Diversity, inclusion, and other ideals affixed to DEI lead to the fair and just treatment of individuals.

The reality though is that not everyone believes in equity, in theory much less in practice. In our own organizations, we have colleagues who remain skeptical of DEI and who can sabotage efforts to promote diversity and inclusion and ultimately, equity in the workplace. I know passionate and committed folks who insist that these DEI doubters and deniers, especially in leadership roles, must change their hearts and minds.

Here’s the thing: we can’t force others to change their values, ideas, and motivations. The best we can do within our organizations is educate everyone, empower those from minoritized groups, set clear guidelines for what is unacceptable, and model ethical behavior.