Medcalf: DEI backlash is no surprise

If this is the end of Black Privilege — as an assault on diversity, equity and inclusion programs and policies takes hold — then I’d like to use it well. For so long, I’ve counted on my race alone to do the work on my behalf.

But those benefits will cease soon. Until then, perhaps I can still achieve my dreams. I’ve always wanted to live in a penthouse on the Mississippi River in Minneapolis. I think I’ll call a real estate agent tomorrow and demand a tour. The owner will likely offer me the spot at a steep discount. Because … well, you know.

Next time I’m stopped by a police officer, I’ll point to the melanin in my skin, too. No ticket this time, right? Phew. And before my Black Privilege Card expires, I’ll crash a boardroom at one of our local Fortune 500 companies and announce an immediate change: “I’m the new CEO. Pack your bags.” It’s just that easy when you’re Black.

For now.

The evangelists of bias — whether politicians, corporations or educational institutions — have adopted the ludicrous theology that DEI means white, Christian men have been rejected in favor of Black people and other marginalized folks, despite every meaningful statistic that proves them wrong. They never deal in good faith. They’re also careful, however, to ignore the impact of inclusive policies on women, the elderly, the LGBTQ community, disabled residents, neurodivergent folks, veterans and other groups that have been historically affected by discrimination. But that’s not a new concept.

And that’s why, in a turbulent moment for this country, I’m unmoved. I always knew Black folks would have our hearts broken. Again.

Nothing about the wave of DEI policies, investments, leadership hires, corporate statements or public declarations that followed the murder of George Floyd in 2020 was ever real. The cultural shift that so many groups promised then was the byproduct of strong emotions, not justice. Rooted in pain, rather than the belief that diversity is righteous, those policies were destined to disappear once folks wiped their tears.

For Black people and groups that have been othered throughout history, America has always been an unfaithful and abusive partner. The DEI push was just another delivery of flowers and candy to absolve itself of the guilt and shame it feels about its treatment of marginalized communities. Rather than confront its history, it sought to avoid shame. Whenever that happens, people of color and those who have routinely encountered barriers are always used as political pawns.

I understand why so many of us were hopeful that Floyd’s murder would finally shift this country, and the people who’d previously fought to maintain the status quo might also be converted. The year, however, was 2020, not 1963. This is just what America does. While the teary-eyed announcements and invented DEI positions seemed to imply change, the decisions and choices involved vast, forward-facing maneuvers created to appease those who’d embraced the Black Lives Matter movement.

I should know. I was in high demand after Floyd’s murder. I spoke to a multitude of groups and corporations about diversity, equity and inclusion. I told leaders across the Twin Cities that their expansive vows to embrace diversity were unrealistic. Instead of “50 Ways We’ll End Racism,” I suggested that they choose one idea and conquer it, because I knew those lists were not only impossible to achieve but also ridiculous.

The path to real change is more arduous. The only reason politicians, corporations and educational institutions can pounce on DEI policies is because they know they have enough supporters who will back the toxic rhetoric, so the battle ahead is a peer-to-peer challenge. It will involve immense courage, and also communication.

To those who’ve rebuked diversity, equity and inclusion: Which part of bias, unfairness and exclusion appeals most to you? We have to interrogate those around us and challenge them whenever they read from a script they didn’t write. We have to stay vigilant and vocal against those who spout anti-DEI beliefs, because it’s nothing more than a subtler form of discrimination.

But the real fight is not on a 24/7 news channel or in the comments section. The fight is in our homes. It’s in our neighborhoods, our workplaces, our group chats and our families. If this nation’s soil is watered with justice, the movements against it must die.

I have to believe that there are millions of people across this country who do value diversity. I also have to believe there are millions of Black and brown folks and millions of white allies who won’t stand for this. And I have to believe that there is a better world ahead for my daughters, even amid the current cloudiness.

Until then, I’ll take advantage of this Black Privilege punch card while I still have it.

Because I’m not sure what’s next. If everything I have is because of my race, then I’ll probably have to consider another gig.

I’ll log onto LinkedIn and, for the first time, create a résumé. I’ve never needed one.

I’ve always just carried a piece of paper in my back pocket.

It simply says — you guessed it — “Black.”