George Floyd was killed nearly four weeks ago. The riots are over. The National Guard presence has drawn down. Social media is no longer dominated by a singular subject. Are we all just moving along? Dare I say, “back to normal?”

Normal isn’t acceptable. I have not moved on. I’m not “over” George Floyd’s death.

I’ve spent a great deal of time thinking about what all of this means to me. I think about what I can do about it. I’m not finished thinking about it, but I thought now would be a good time to share my thoughts so far.

White privilege

That term, for a while now, has bothered me. I remember first hearing it used in every day language around the time the Black Lives Matter movement got underway in 2013. As a white person, I don’t feel privileged. I look back at my life experience, and I see struggle, toil, setbacks, hard work, and lots of grit, to achieve any success I’ve enjoyed. The word “privilege” evokes imagery of an ivy league education, social connections, country clubs, and inherited wealth. I’ve never experienced any of that.

Over the past four weeks, I’ve started to think about it differently. I’ll share some stories to illustrate.

I have lived in the second-most diverse suburb in the Twin Cities metro, Brooklyn Park, for 19 years. My neighborhood within the city, has a great deal of diversity. From my house, it’s about a five-minute walk to Walmart. I shop there often and am typically among just a few white people in the store.

On one such shopping trip, I noticed an employee at the exit checking everyone’s bags. The employee was making sure the items in the bags matched the receipts. I waited patiently for my turn and opened my bag. The employee looked at me and waved me through. He didn’t need to check my bag.

I was confused at first, but then I realized that I was the only white person in line at the exit. Even at Walmart, where my whiteness made me an ethnic minority, I received a privilege. I received the benefit of the doubt, that as a white person, I was highly unlikely to shoplift from Walmart. That is white privilege.

A geek that didn’t fit in

My life has been really good and I cannot complain, but I want to share a challenging season of my upbringing that was formative for me, because it gives me a starting point for empathy.

In grade school, I was very small. Some of you remember when teachers lined you up by height for the annual school photos. In my classes, I was next to last or dead last, depending on the year. That also translated into underdeveloped athletic abilities. Not only was I picked last, but my team members denigrated me for ruining their chances of winning.

I dreaded recess. I was bullied often. I couldn’t wait for the whistle to blow so I could return to the structured safety of the classroom. You may think that I made up for this deficit with a genius intellect, but that’s not the case. I struggled as a student and needed outside tutoring. I only succeeded academically once I made it to high school.

Fast-forward 30 years, and I am in the exact opposite situation. I am a white male geek, working in a profession that is perfectly optimized for white male geeks: Information Technology. I fit in perfectly. I speak the lingo and I look the part. I cannot help but acknowledge and credit a portion of my success to things about me that I cannot control: white, male, and nerdy-looking.

People take one look at me and give me the benefit of the doubt: This bald white guy with glasses probably knows what he is talking about, and he’s also unlikely to shoplift at Walmart. This is my white male geek privilege. Black non-geeky women do not have the same advantage.

The image at the top is a prime example. I source imagery for this blog from the website Unsplash. I typed “geek” into the search bar, and this picture of four white dudes was the first result with people in it.

Where to go from here

I brought up some unpleasant memories from my childhood as a starting point for my own empathy. Let me be crystal clear: This does not mean I know how it feels to be discriminated against based on color or gender. I don’t. I really don’t. Anything negative that has happened to me doesn’t come close to comparing to the stories I’ve listened to over the past few weeks.

However, I can start to imagine. I think about people of color and women navigating the Information Technology field, or more specifically, working in my department. I think about my experience in grade school and am horrified to imagine that anyone could feel that way working for me on my team.

As a leader, I have a responsibility to push hard and never stop. I’ve hired and promoted plenty of women and people of color. Good. I am I done now? Is that enough? No.

Without a doubt, we continue to live with systematic inequities. People of color have been desperately trying to change things for hundreds of years. It is the privileged white people that need to be bothered enough by the status quo to do something about it.

It’s hard to change something you don’t see and aren’t conscious of how it benefits you and hurts others. It’s impossible to care without proactively developing as much empathy as you can muster. I’ve grown a bit in the past few weeks, but I have a whole lot more growing to do.

I don’t want anyone to feel the way I felt in grade school, yet many experience much worse. Join me. Let’s work to make our professions, our companies, and our teams more inclusive.

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