Ain't We Brothers? - LGBTQ Representation & the Mining Industry

Jun 27

Jun 27 Ain't We Brothers? - LGBTQ Representation & the Mining Industry

Last Friday, I had the opportunity to see a new play in Chicago, titled “Thaddeus and Slocum: A Vaudeville Adventure”[1]. The play, written by actor and playwright Kevin Douglas, follows the aspirations of a duo of vaudeville performers, one black (Thaddeus) and one white (Slocum), as they try to make a name for themselves in the Chicago theatre scene in 1908. Their goal is to perform at the Majestic Theatre, but there is a problem – the Majestic only allows one “colored” act in its program, and that slot is already taken. And Thaddeus’ skin color means that the pair won’t have the opportunity to demonstrate their talents in that venue. Slocum comes up with a plan – if the two pass themselves off as white performers made up in black face, then they could slip past the rule and claim a spot on the performance roster. So Thaddeus reluctantly agrees to cover his black skin in black makeup, masking his true self in order to gain access to an opportunity that he’s been dreaming of for his whole life.

From this fateful decision, the play moves on, and we see Thaddeus awakening to his true potential and his true self. It is a powerful, moving play, and if you live near Chicago and have the opportunity, I can’t recommend it highly enough.

The play sparked a lot of thoughts for me about race, and about the fact that, for some, the need to mask or hide one’s true self is a way of life. It’s a topic that’s been on my mind quite a bit in the last week, following the kick-off of our company’s Diversity & Inclusion Advisory Council. During our meeting, a colleague of mine raised an observation about the lack of representation from the LGBTQ community in our workforce. She noted that, in other companies and other industries where she’s worked, it was common for her to know several colleagues who were open about their sexual orientation, and about their lives outside of the office. At our company, not so much.

As we talked about the topic of LGBTQ representation, some pertinent questions arose:

Are there coworkers who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer in our workforce, and are unwilling or who feel unable to be open about it?

Is our industry and/or our company sending signals to prospective employees in the LGBTQ community that we’re not a safe or welcoming place to work?

To me, if either of these are true (and I suspect that they are both true), that’s a problem for an organization that has claimed diversity as a core value, and that is currently in the process of forming a strategy that highlights respect for, and inclusion of, all employees.

I want to spend a bit of time on each of these questions, because LGBTQ representation seems to be a problem for the mining industry, and I think we need to talk about it. So, let’s take a look at the first question – Are there coworkers who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer in our workforce?

Many studies have estimated that the LGBTQ community makes up anywhere from 5% to 10% of the population. That fact alone would indicate that some of our coworkers identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender or queer. But there are also individual examples and stories. An article in Corporate Knights magazine on LGBTQ representation in the mining industry [2]tells the story of Lynne Descary, a nickel miner who’s worked for Vale for over 20 years. During that time, she’s faced insults and harassment because she’s a lesbian, and she is open about it. She talked about the coworkers and managers who have contributed to a culture of exclusion, as well as others who have been supportive.

Sam Williams is another example. His story, told in a song by folk singer-songwriter Sam Gleaves, is the story of a gay miner in West Virginia, who stood up for his right to work in the industry and community that he’d grown up in. In the song, Gleaves writes:

I took a job and worked right by you, walked down in that hole beside you,

Thought I heard some whisper sound, I got found out, word got around.

I got made out for something I’m not, got called everything but a child of God.

They didn’t mind to show it out in the parking lot.

So I cut my coal with my head hung down,

Just like a stranger in my own town.

I got bitter day by day,

Went home every night with the mess they made.

First things first, I’m a blue collar man

With scars on my knuckles, dust on my hands.

You probably wouldn’t have ever known

That I’ve got a man waiting on my at home.

To tell you the truth, I don’t want to fight,

I just want to say one thing outright to you

Ain’t we flesh and blood all through,

And ain’t we brothers too?[3]

I’ve heard these stories, and I’ve heard anecdotes from within the company that I work for. I do have coworkers who are part of the LGBTQ community. But I couldn’t tell you who. Which brings us to the second question – Is our industry and/or our company sending signals to prospective employees in the LGBTQ community that we’re not a safe or welcoming place to work?

Joshua Collins, an assistant professor at University of Arkansas, has studied the experiences of LGBTQ workers in industries that have been traditionally dominated by men. He says that just because people aren’t complaining or coming out doesn’t mean there isn’t a problem, adding that the opposite should be assumed. Collins states, “If there is silence, it likely means that some aspect of the industry’s culture has discouraged speaking out, and that is a serious issue worth addressing.”[4]

There has been a tendency within the industry to point to a lack of complaints as indicative of a lack of an absence of any issue that needs to be addressed. However, the 2015 Corporate Equality Index, conducted by the Human Rights Campaign (HRC), shows that the mining industry is lagging behind other male-dominated industries, such as oil and gas, aerospace and defense, and automotive…The index ranks companies based on a number of indicators, such as access to benefits for same-sex partners, transgender-inclusive health insurance, existence of resource groups and diversity councils, and positive external relationships with the LGBT community.

So it does seem that we have an issue to talk about. I expect that it will be a lively discussion within my own company. And we’ll need to talk about “why” and “how” we should change.

There’s a growing body of literature that indicates that millennial workers, as well as the next generation (Z) that’s coming up behind them, value diversity and may be likely to reject organizations that don’t overtly embrace diversity and inclusion. Those who are members of the LGBTQ community and their allies, could very likely reject an industry or company that is not welcoming or, worse, is seen as inhospitable. As with so many dimensions of diversity and inclusion, there is a potential talent acquisition and talent management impact that needs to be considered and discussed.

From there, it’s on to how we change. How do we best show support for our coworkers in the LGBTQ community? How do we become allies?

Orlando Bishop and Gloria Woods, both of the Kaleidoscope Group, published a post earlier this week about how organizations and individuals can best show their support for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer colleagues in the face of the recent mass shooting in Orlando, FL. They write:

As our world and the business landscape have become exponentially more nuanced and complex, as we recognize and engage a lengthening list of diversity dimensions, it has become increasingly clear that we need to exhibit a heightened level of cultural competence. In order to exhibit that heightened level of cultural competence, we must first develop that level of cultural competence. And, as with any development process, any growth process, there will be some growing pains. As we learn, we will make mistakes. The effective ally accepts that risk.

The effective ally takes the social risk of standing with those individuals and groups that have traditionally been regarded as outsiders in our organizations and in our society, at large.

The effective ally must, when the moment calls for it, embrace ambiguity, dare to venture into the unknown, expanding both their understanding of the people around them and of themselves.

To be an effective ally is not to be superhuman, but to be supremely human, feeling fear, for any or all of these reasons, and triumphing over it.[5]

There’s a lot to consider here. But as I work with our Advisory Council to develop the opportunity statement, and the business drivers, and the strategy, I know that we also need to be very clear about our vision. When we say we want inclusion, are we qualifying that? I hope not. And if we agree that everyone’s included, how do we drive a change in a culture that may not be ready?

We can build an organizational culture where people don’t need to mask who they are in order to gain opportunity. These questions are daunting, but exciting. And answering them will be part of our journey together.

[1] http://lookingglasstheatre.org/event_page/thaddeus-and-slocum/

[2] http://www.corporateknights.com/channels/mining/lgbt-employees-14232150/

[4] “Homophobic Culture Permeates Mining Industry”, Ashley Renders, Corporate Knights, February 6, 2015

[5] “Standing Together When Things Fall Apart”, Orlando Bishop with co-author Gloria Woods, June 24, 2016, http://kgdiversity.com/media-2/standing-together-when-things-fall-apart/