Together We are Stronger

I have been deeply shocked and saddened by recent events across the U.S., including the tragic death of George Floyd, which happened so close to Ecolab’s corporate headquarters in Minnesota.

In reaching out to some of my African-American colleagues and friends in recent days, the most common words they used were “exhausted” and “frustrated.” Exhausted from having to emotionally cope with these disturbing events, witnessing fellow citizens who look like them being brutalized and killed. Frustrated by the lack of progress.

 As one colleague put it, “This is not new. It has happened all the time since I was born. The only difference is that now we have cameras and social media.” Another friend said, “I am fearful about my family, particularly my son and my husband. It could have been them. I always knew that I had to have this conversation with my kids, but I never thought it would have to be so soon; they are only four and nine.”

I am familiar with being part of a minority. First, as a southern European who was raised as a Roman Catholic in a majority Arab/Muslim country in northern Africa. Then, working for many years across Asia, and my entire career in Anglo-Saxon companies. I'm married to an Asian who faced discrimination in her own country because of her religious and ethnic background. (There seems to be a pattern of prejudice against dark skin in every continent.) Yet, as a foreigner, I have been struggling to understand the racial divide and disparities that continue to plague the great and prosperous country that is America.

As I try to learn and understand better, I’ve been looking at the data. And whether it’s access to education, healthcare coverage, incarceration rates, unemployment rates, executive and political representation, COVID deaths, police shootings – you name it - the numbers are unequivocal. The African-American community tends to have the short end of the stick. I realize I’m not able to comprehend the deep roots of what we are seeing across America.

I came to the U.S. first as a graduate student 15 years ago. I remember during my first year at business school we were discussing the American constitution. It was an economics class, so we had a passionate debate with 90 students from all over the world about how forward-looking the Founding Fathers were. We discussed the smart mechanisms that enabled the American entrepreneurial spirit to flourish and create the most advanced economy in the world. Things like the rule of law, property rights and bankruptcy laws that incentivize risk taking. Then, as we wrapped up, the professor paused and posed an open question: “Were there any flaws?”

I still remember the awkward silence, until a classmate raised her hand, cleared her voice and timidly said, “Well, the constitution effectively legalized slavery, putting a large part of the American population out of the economic system.”

Ever since, I’ve been trying to educate myself about the issues that led to this vicious cycle of discrimination and inequality. Reading and talking to friends have helped me a lot, but I still feel that I have a lot to learn. And that I have a responsibility to do something about it regardless of my nationality and cultural background because as Martin Luther King wrote from the Birmingham jail, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

Stay close to your friends, colleagues and professional networks, particularly those of African-American descent. They are likely going through a lot, feeling shocked and exhausted. They might not show it, but they are probably hurting. Reach out and check in if you haven’t already. I’m sure they will appreciate it, and you will expand your perspectives. An awkward conversation is better than silence.

Let’s foster a diverse, inclusive and empathetic workplace and society.

Because together we are stronger.