What Now, What More, What Next?

This is a very difficult and painful time. Amidst the coronavirus pandemic, we are also witnessing and experiencing the epidemic of racial injustice. The horrific and tragic death of George Floyd under the knees of police officers in Minneapolis last week, and so much of what has happened since, has left me sad, mad, and at times feeling hopeless. The unrest that is happening now is not just a result of last week but of so many other tragic chapters of lost lives, lost opportunities, and lost dignities. Breonna Taylor shot eight times in her own bed in Kentucky, by police trying to arrest someone who was already in custody. Ahmaud Arbery chased down and killed while jogging. And the vulgar weaponizing of racism and privilege endured by Christian Cooper in Central Park simply because he asked a woman to put her dog on a leash. These events are just the latest in a very long string of violence and hatred that has existed in the US since before our country was founded. This is a very difficult and painful time…but it is nothing new.

         It is also disturbing to see the blurred dialogue about what is now happening in our streets. Much of the communications I see are summarizing all of what is happening as “rioting”. Or, “It’s happening in the big cities”. Or, “Why are people damaging property instead of protesting peacefully?”. This dangerous, marginalizing, and demeaning overgeneralization misses the point of so many people who are rightfully angry, are engaging in peaceful protest, standing in solidarity with neighbors of all colors, and showing kindness and empathy even while suffering. In the last week, I’ve been heartened by these peaceful and respectful protests – and outraged by the violence and destruction which is coming from many sources. Having lived in Minneapolis for seven years and having grown up in Chicago, I am very sad to see what is happening in two cities that I love dearly. But - this is not just a “big city” issue. I have seen racism and hatred everywhere, including small town Indiana. It makes me sad, and mad.

Seeing these images, hearing the sounds, and talking with friends and colleagues over the past week have stoked emotions that I have felt for many years, going back to growing up in the south suburbs of Chicago and seeing the change in neighborhood demographics being accompanied by ignorance, fear and hate. I saw the community college I was attending there never get the funding it really needed because many voters in the area were more affluent, were sending their kids to more premium colleges, and did not see the need to invest more in strengthening communities by advancing education for all. The professors were frustrated and disillusioned, and I felt that same emotion.

Amidst all of this, there are also visible and powerful examples of hope, love, kindness, leadership and respect. We have to be willing to look for them and we have to be a creator of them.

In 2016 I had the privilege to hear Dr. Karl Reid, Executive Director of the National Society of Black Engineers, speak at a breakfast at the NSBE annual conference, where I was there to recruit. Dr. Reid spoke about the significant problems facing black students in America in visualizing and achieving their dreams because of the barriers to education. He talked about how nearly 50% of predominantly black high schools in the US do not even offer the STEM courses that would enable a student to move on to college to pursue a career in Science, Engineering, or Math. They are stopped before they can even get started. Dr. Reid’s talk brought back the emotions of my community college experience and motivated many of us to create a chapter of the NSBE “Summer Engineering Experience for Kids” (SEEK) program which inspires and teaches 3rd-5th graders about engineering through experiential learning and teamwork. NSBE is pursuing a strategic goal to enable the graduation of 10,000 black engineering students by 2025.

       But I have not done enough. Not nearly enough. I will turn my anger, sadness, and disillusionment into fuel for a renewed commitment to action and real change. I must. I've realized that working generally on diversity and inclusion, and convincing myself that that is enough, isn't good enough.

        Many years ago in a meeting, I witnessed a racially charged comment made by a team member. During a break in that meeting, I spoke with the individual, who became more aware of what they were saying, and I saw improvements in that person’s behavior. That day, though, I made a terrible mistake. By not calling out that vile behavior in the moment, I inadvertently sent a message to others that the individual’s ugly comments were ok. They were not. Did I lack the personal tools – or the courage – to respond in the moment?  Was I so shocked that I locked up and needed a few minutes to get my mind around what had just happened so that I could respond in an appropriate way off line? I’ve thought about it many times, and believe it is some combination of all these things. What’s clear is I was wrong and my wrongness contributed to what we have in this country and elsewhere today. I’d like to think I would respond differently today. I commit to being better. To doing better. To doing more.

         Several years ago, the Technical Women’s Circle in our engineering team in Fridley Minnesota worked with our human resource partners to create the Facilitated Discussions on Inclusion. This courageous group of women paved the way for conversations that have now touched over 4,000 Cummins employees worldwide. They showed that anyone can be a leader, an influencer, and that they can make a difference – not just for women but for us all. And, more deeply, these dialogues call us to examine our own biases, and the sources of those biases. We all have them. There is scientific evidence that our brains are wired from birth to have biases. It is said that “if you have a brain, you have biases”. The point of this is that we should not beat ourselves up for having biases. We’re human and they are the product of our biology, our upbringing, our life experiences, our family dynamics, our culture, etc. What’s important now is that we examine our own biases. That we work to understand the roots of them. And, that we equip ourselves to dismantle our biases and do not let them impact our behaviors toward others, which includes ensuring equal opportunities for all in our communities and in our company. The inclusion dialogues teach us how to deal with situations like mine above in a proactive and positive way, whether we experience the bias, we are a witness to it, or we are personally called out for it. 

         In talking with friends and colleagues from various parts of the diversity spectrum this past week, we have shared pain, anger, and ideas for where to go from here. I’m developing a list of ideas and actions, and commit to implement them, beginning by engagement. Even though most of us are working remotely, we can still have valuable discussions about what is on our minds, and how we feel. And we can each make commitments to do what do we need to do together to become an even better team. We must.

         There are many places in our society where trust is broken right now. I am grateful for the trust that is generously afforded to me as a leader at work and in our communities. Friends and colleagues have trusted me with their thoughts and feelings. I will not betray that trust with inaction.

I commit to working harder on creating equality in education, in housing, in career opportunities, and in inclusion.

I will be better, I will do better, I will do more.