Corporations Compassion Culture. Keesa C. Schreane
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me for a bit and melted away.
By this time, no one was talking with me or engaging with me at work. No one addressed me in meetings or bantered with me outside of meetings. If I asked why I was being ignored, I got a pat answer. “I can't really understand your comments during meetings.” Other times a colleague would act as if I needed an interpreter, turning to another with, “What I believe she is trying to say is . . .”
If you've ever had this kind of experience, you know it can be an elusive one to describe and pin down. Because how do you depict a lack? A something-that-is-not-there? The encouragement that's ABSENT. The nods of interest that DON'T EXIST. The inquiries about your comments and thoughts that NEVER HAPPEN. It's not until these things build up into unmistakable avoidance and silence that you understand SOMETHING is going on.
Like this incident:
A colleague and I bumped into each other when turning a sharp corner near the ladies' room.
“Excuse me,” I said.
She gave me a good, slow look up and down. Then she walked off without a word.
This woman was a terrific conversationalist, always ready with a quip or a punch line. She was not the sort to be caught short by a stumble near the bathroom.
My colleagues seemed to be following some secret rule book with regard to me. And they were following it to the letter.
I decided I needed to do something. I would meet with my immediate manager. I had no job description, no training, and was excluded from the team. But, dwelling on that wasn't going to get me anywhere. I reasoned there must be a way I could support the success of the team and engage professionally (at least until I found another job). Maybe my manager could help.
I approached her with a simple question: What could I do to better serve the team?
“To be honest, Keesa, I really feel your brain synapses don't connect with each other.”
Wow. I sucked in breath to steady myself. Lack of synapses? It was astonishing. I was ready for her denials. For the I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about comeback. Even for severe criticism of my work. But this woman was saying the problem was with my actual brain.
Of course, I pressed for her to explain what this meant. She went on to clarify that, in her opinion, I didn't understand certain concepts intellectually. This rendered me incapable of producing outstanding, or even adequate, work products. My brain and my neural connections were simply not up to the task.
To my best knowledge, this woman, who held an entire conversation with me focusing on brains and synapses, held neither a neurosurgeon's nor a neuroscientist's degree. What she did hold was my future at that firm—in the palm of her hand. I left her office.
A short time later, it arrived: failure.
I was called into HR. The managing director was there as was the manager with the opinions on my gray matter. They told me my services were no longer needed, effective immediately. They wished me the best, then the managers embraced each other—as if they were the ones who'd gone through an ordeal—and left the room. I departed the building with my possessions.
Nothing had protected me. Not my NYU degree. Not my Series 7 and Series 63 certifications. Not my previous accomplishments at that very firm.
I thought about warnings that elders and friends gave for years that I just hadn't wanted to believe.
“This is just how corporate America is when it comes to people of color.”
“They've been treating Black people like this for years.”
“Folks in charge could care less about people who work for them, especially when they're Black. They only care about making money and looking out for their own.”
Maybe it was all true.
But maybe, I could do something different with the situation. Something different than accepting how things were and just give up.
I took a little while, but I was able to find a way.
I realized I could choose to have compassion for a manager who insulted my mind instead of inspiring my work. So I chose compassion for her. I came to understand that I could choose to forgive my misguided colleagues who had bullied me instead of supporting me. So I forgave them. It dawned on me that I could find a different path, one that would change such realities in the workplace. I could dedicate my future work to improving others' corporate experiences and demonstrate kindness and equality in leadership. So I chose all of that, too.
I made these choices because if I and people like me don't speak about the need for greater compassion and equality in business, those words may never get spoken. If we don't do something about it, those deeds will never get done.
This is why I've written this book.
Sure, there are cruel, cocky leaders who build and operate the world's largest institutions. But kind, committed, and compassionate leaders are also at the helm. Those voices need to be amplified. What those leaders are doing and how they are doing it needs to be documented and understood.
Why? Leaders who choose kindness, commitment, and compassion as their leadership style see improved corporate performance and greater financial return as the result.
Yes, you read that right. Increasing compassion and empathy in C-suites is not just good for workers—it is good for the bottom line.
How can we learn from and be the leaders who choose kindness, commitment, and compassion as their leadership style and who see greater corporate performance and return—as well as greater humanity in the workplace—as the result?
This book answers that question.
Because many of us have experienced a work environment like the one I have described:
Being shut down or talked over on a conference call, repeatedly.
Seeing internal job offers that went from a sure thing to being rescinded under dubious circumstances or after the interviewer sees your complexion
Learning about the “meeting before the meeting,” where a decision was made before you entered the room, rendering the meeting to a mere formality.
It's disappointing—even outrageous—these situations still happen especially knowing the generation after us will have their own similar stories. I hope that people like me sharing our stories, will, at a minimum, let them know they're not alone.
During COVID-19, cruelty to workers reached a new extreme. Employers previously overlooked mental and emotional workplace hazards, especially “micro”-level activities that are hard to legislate and impossible to prove. Now, employers have shifted to actions that are more brazen: inflexible paid sick leave policies for workers who engage the public (largely marginalized populations), deficient work-from-home procedures, and insufficient platforms embracing employee innovation that could bring companies out of difficult business environments.
Confronted with these realities, employees are refusing to give up basic dignities and professionalism in exchange for a paycheck. Employers' ethical breaches and responses to employee well-being risks point to the need to commit to one overarching goal: employers should build cultures that nurture employees' purpose and talents and inspire them to create solutions that enrich employees, serve customers, and increase revenue. This can only be done in environments where every employee feels just as important as the shareholder. Each of us at every level of leadership—managers, directors, associates, and assistants—arrive at work with a choice: choose actions and words that affirm productivity, inclusivity, creativity, and profitability.
And if you and your company don't know how to achieve inclusion, equality, productivity, compassion, and increased revenue in the workplace, you can learn.
Let's get started!