Diversity

Having recently started a new job, I have been trained every which ways in various degrees on various topics. There are certain types of training that one seems to get at every job - the type of training one sees is on the agenda at every job and which now one will have to go through at every job thereafter, again and again; not just the instructions on how to account for your time or how you are judged in consideration of a bonus but training in how to act human to one's co- workers.

At first glance, this seems ridiculous and confined to larger companies. You ask yourself why: does one lose one's people skills in a larger business? Is it because one may be dealing with more people? Why do I need to have it drilled into my head that people are different and that I need to be nice to everyone- don't I already know that? That seems like the obvious reaction and a reasonable one at first glance.

This recent training did get me thinking. Being of "a certain age," I now view people in their teens and early twenties as kids, for example. This means I grew up in the 1970's and 1980's, learning from parents who grew up in the 1940's and 1950's. It did not seem to mean much at the time, but looking back I see how significant it is. When my parents were growing up, the Civil Rights Movement had not occurred. People of other races were literally segregated. Because their outside appearance was different. It is just mind boggling to think about. (note: it does not excuse attitudes- it explains them a little better.)

When my sister and I were growing up in New York State in the '70s and '80s, you were aware-very aware- of racial differences. It was a negative thing. Each group was a very separate group and no one seemed interested in anything but staying away from the other group, let alone celebrating differences and trying to achieve understanding. The main other groups in our area were African-Americans and Puerto Ricans. They seemed to keep to themselves and we kept to ourselves and maybe there was some fear on our part toward them. I can't say how they might have felt toward us. Our parents used words which we would never repeat nowadays and I like to hope that by the time my parents each died, they had realized it was not right to describe people that way either.


There was another smaller group which we were aware of- doctors and professional people from the Middle East, mainly Iran and Israel. These were people we looked up to for their education, professional abilities and success. They were the only ones who drove Mercedes and high end cars other than Cadillacs. However much we were interested and well disposed to them, though, they had their own group and it was rare to meet any of them outside a doctor's visit or whatever.

My first glint of enlightenment came during the horrors of elementary school. Being the skinny, glasses-wearing eccentric person I was (and basically am today), I was not exactly in the hip crowd, so when someone--anyone- was nice to me I took notice. These two girls, Iris and Ana, were very nice to me in art class and it occurred to me: wow, they are Puerto Rican but they were nice: meaning- they were something other than their ethnic group. They were personalities and individuals in addition to their heritage.

Certainly I learned well that both friendliness and cruelty can transcend race, social status and every other label. In high school I read a book which really crystallized it, a novel called "Who Is Julia?" by Barbara Harris, 1977. In retrospect, maybe it was a little heavy for a 14 year old to read. This is the plot-here are two women: one is short and homely, married. The other is tall and beautiful, a model. (I cannot remember her domestic situation). Through a freak series of events, the model's body is destroyed and the homely woman's is declared brain dead, and the doctors at the local medical center are placed in a position where they can finally attempt a brain transplant. It raises many questions about consciousness, personality, physical reactions vs psychological reactions and is a good read. It got me thinking about how if people are "reduced" to mere bones, flesh and blood what really makes someone who they are is what happens to them personally- memory, upbringing, intellect. Not what is on the outside.

Definitely one could also use this book as an illustration that reading takes one to other worlds and expands one's thinking, which it does. But it triggered in me the realization, once and for all, the the outside of a person is (or should be irrelevant). The good news is that it helped me with external diversity issues, but made me feel more justified in looking down on ignorant or what I consider to be stupid people. A whole other issue for another time.

The training this week made me realize that I have been very fortunate to throw off attitudes which would prevent me from getting to know other other people. People are generally interesting and especially if they are really different from one's self. I think and hope that maybe my generation was one of the last to not understand why diversity is a good thing.