Michael’s Take: Growing up - I heard derogatory comments on a regular basis. They always hit closer to home than peers would have been able to see from the color of my skin.

I’m white. Like, really white. If I’m outside for 22 minutes, my skin turns red. The color of someone’s skin doesn’t tell a person’s story. I love going to Doomsday Coffee in Fayetteville. Rosie is one of the owners and is from Mexico. She always jokes about how we share the same homeland and her cooking and accent brings me back to my Aunt Arlene’s house in El Paso.

My dad was born in Chihuahua, Mexico. He was an illegal immigrant until I was 13 years old. We’ve all heard the racist and derogatory comments towards Hispanics. Growing up in North Carolina and Missouri, everyone had plenty of zingers they thought were funny. The perspective on how people are from all walks of life and parts of the world (making them each uniquely incredible) was lost on these zinger-giving-people.

I remember walking across the border from El Paso to Juarez with my family in 4th or 5th grade. We ate at a hole in the wall restaurant and one of the young men serving recognized my grandfather from decades ago in Chihuahua. He came over and gave him a long hug. That moment is ingrained in my memory and makes me proud of my family. It shows that across borders my family treated everyone with respect and dignity that transcends generations. It made me proud of my family and made me want to be like them in that way.

When the insults and poorly formed jokes were flowing in my communities, I found myself correcting them quite often. Feeling the sting every time.The racism towards Hispanics was always out in the open as if it was acceptable behavior. Disgusting and accepted.

The racism towards the black community was a bit more suppressed. It was subtle because it was not socially accepted behavior, it was passive. Maybe in the passivity it’s even more dangerous. More volatile. It’s like hearing the passive comments from from an in-law at Thanksgiving. If you address them it’s going to be awkward … “I didn’t say that”, “I didn’t mean that”, etc… Meanwhile the damage and the pain is there and brooding even more.

What we all know is what is lurks beneath the surface at some point comes up. The racism of a police officer impacts their work. The racism of an HR leader fosters a culture of discrimination. The racism of a CEO influences the decisions of a leadership team. Subtle or overt - people know and grow weary.

The country has grown tired of it. Everyone is tired of the hatred. I hope…

A few years ago we were in Memphis, enjoying great BBQ, we saw the basketball great Grant Hill and then walked the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial. We talked to our kids about racism in the past and they were confused and didn’t understand it. In our church, in our community, they didn’t see how or why people would be so hateful.

It pains me to sit across the from the table and teach them about the hatred that still continues today. I wanted them to grow up in a better world. What pains me more is knowing that my friends with black children have to not only teach their kids about racism they have to prepare them for when they experience it. Prepare them for discrimination. Prepare them for when they get pulled over. Prepare them for when they get passed over.

So how do we respond in all of this?

What do we do?

Can we make company policies? Yes.

Can we vote better leaders in? Yes.

Does that solve the problem? No.

Racism and hatred stems from our homes and bleeds into our communities and places of work. It’s the responsibility of everyone to no longer turn a blind eye and say, “that’s just [insert name], they don’t mean it”.

It’s no longer okay to passively allow hatred to infiltrate our work places while applying for awards like “Diversity Employer of the Year”.

We can’t legislate discrimination away - our commitment to valuing people has to rid our companies of fostering the ability for hate to live.

It’ looks like this:

A COO changing a bank’s policy so single black women can receive promotions based on performance and are given opportunities for continued certifications. This versus being stuck in poverty perpetuating low-level jobs while walking by the slave trade memorial on their way home from work.

A HR Leader taking the stance to not allow racist leaders to work at the company, even when that meant disrupting the norms of the location and community.

A Communications leader encouraging a team member to write a heartfelt blog to the company to open the conversation of real life to give everyone the courage and confidence to dialogue .

This is a time for business leaders to realize that this is simply about doing what is right. It’s about treating others they way you would want to be treated. It’s not about politics. It’s not about the bottom line. It’s not about a slogan.

It’s about doing the right thing and I pray you have the courage to do so. If you don’t know how - we can help you. We can’t continue as we have been and think the world will get better. Our kids need a better world than this. Let’s not wait for them to create it. Let’s finally move the needle forward. It’s time.

Laura’s Take:

I grew up in the heart of Detroit - 5 Mile Rd. & Grand River Ave. You’ll hear me joke that Eminem had it easy over there on 8 Mile Rd. since the typical rule of thumb was that the lower you got in the mile markers, the rougher the neighborhoods got.

As a kid, I had no idea that it was a rough part of town that I called home. I knew that I had great neighborhood friends, that I laughed, played, stayed outside until the lights came on, etc. I felt safe. I knew I was loved. I was happy. I was color blind.

Now, I’m not going to say that everything was perfect, we did live in a rough part of town. I remember having my brand new bike stolen right after my 5th birthday. Of course I was sad and angry and confused. When things like this happened, and they did regularly, my dad would pull us together and explain that whoever it was that took our bike or whoever it was that broke into our house, that they needed those items more than we did. Not in a dismissive way, but in a way that opened our tiny eyes to the fact that others didn’t have the same things we did…and it didn’t make them bad people. They were just in need. We learned early to try to think about what others might be going through before jumping to conclusions.

You see, early in life we develop the ability to distinguish between kindness and meanness. That was the most important characteristic in our forming brains..is this person being a nice friend or are they being mean to me? That’s what mattered. I didn’t care that my friends had darker skin than I did. I thought it was cool and can remember often saying, “I wish my skin could be brown like yours”. I was the minority in this situation and was envious of what others had that I did not.

I’ve obviously grown up and have had experiences along the way that have educated me in the realities of how different I was than my childhood friends. Not only the color of my skin, but also in how we were treated, how people looked at us, how I was afforded privileges that they were not. The hardest lesson that I learned (and continue to learn) is that my own unique experience was not the same for others. Not my black friends and not my white friends. Not everyone had the same type of parents who encouraged respect and understanding. Not everyone had the pleasure of growing up in a culturally diverse community. Not everyone chose to be kind. I was blinded by my own experience and had to consider how other people’s experiences may have seeded beliefs and behaviors that were unimaginable to me.

Here’s where the rubber met the road for me though. I had a choice to make as an adult. What pieces of my upbringing would I hold on to and what would I choose to change through education and experience? I could choose to stay in a state of disbelief and confusion. I could choose to believe that everyone was raised like me and the world was a happy, loving place where everyone got along. I could choose ignorance or I could choose to open my eyes to the injustice that was surrounding me.

I chose the latter and was determined to be steadfast in my values. I decided to pursue a career in Human Resources to make sure that I was in a position that could eradicate the injustices of the workplace. I chose to make a small difference where I could.

Every job interview I’ve ever been on, when asked the question, “what are your weaknesses?”, my response was consistent. I would say, “I have no tolerance for unnecessary rudeness (mean people) or disrespect of others”. Period. Zero tolerance. That was my answer then and would be today as well. You can imagine that answer wasn’t always seen in a positive light. I can remember being told that my stance on these items was too harsh and that, in HR, I needed to practice more diplomacy in situations where rudeness or disrespect would arise. When that happened, I would have a choice again. A choice to remain centered in my values and lead accordingly in an effort to shift the culture in the right direction, or a choice to let company politics dictate how I would lead.

It’s hard to consistently do the right thing and lead in a way that you can be proud of. You will be tested, that’s the reality, but you always have a choice. You can choose to make a positive impact in the injustice that is playing out in front of our eyes. Choose to be the leader, parent, community member that makes a difference, right where you are - no matter where that is. Whether it’s the streets of Detroit, the country club golf course, or the boardroom. They all provide the same opportunity for you to treat people with kindness, respect, and appreciation for what uniquely brought us each to this moment in time.

What I wouldn’t give to have our world be the place that I thought it was…when I had the eyes of a child. Unfortunately it’s not, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t make a choice every day to open those eyes and make a difference. Will you?