Being gay, here’s what my ERG means to me
How you can activate and empower employees in a real way, right now
I am gay.
You know what’s harder than being in the closet? Coming out of it. I should know, because I spent a long time there, afraid to say those words. It’s really a difficult place to be in many ways. So, when I finally stepped out, I was very fortunate that the friends and family surrounding me were supportive and understanding.
Every day, I feel grateful for that privilege — but I know that not everyone is as lucky.
Coming out is not a singular event
Anyone queer knows that coming out isn’t a singular event, or a flipped switch. Rather, it’s an ongoing process that never really ends. It’s something you learn, and a skill to continually practice. My practice began when my career kicked off.
I went to university where I grew up, while living with my parents. During that time, I came out — but only to people who could figure it out for themselves. Why? Because I wanted to believe that coming out wasn’t as important as completing my studies.
In starting my first job, I finally left my hometown and set out on my own — which meant my excuses for staying in the closet had dried up. This presented a new challenge, though, where I really learned what people meant when they said coming out wasn’t a one-time thing.
Once I decided to be honest and open about my sexuality, I knew I’d have to come out to the people closest to me. In and of itself, that’s a big thing — but all of a sudden, I had to figure out how to deal with being openly gay at work, too.
When you come out, it’s like stepping into shoes you always knew would fit you, but that still feels odd at first. With family and friends, there’s a comfort layer to the experience; a bit of cushioning, if you will.
With colleagues, it’s way more complex. You’re revealing your sexuality to people you’ve just met, because you work together and don’t want to hide it, but they may not necessarily share your background, or world view.
To do it repeatedly and sometimes unexpectedly? It makes it so much harder.
Sharing your identity is not a linear decision
My first role out of school was a rotation program at an automaker. I had five short-term placements in two years, in various locations. Among my stints in the engineering offices, I worked at an assembly plant. At one point I found myself in Northern Ontario for a winter.
Coming out was on my mind through every placement. How do small-town Francophone Ontarians — a culture with deep historical ties to Catholicism — feel about homosexuality? More specifically, how would they feel about me?
While I was working up north, an adventurous intern decided he wanted to have his nails done for the novelty. The alarmed response from the locals at the mere suggestion of a man getting a manicure made me uncomfortable enough that talking about my sexuality became a total impossibility there.
At the assembly plant, among other issues, the hyper-masculine culture was palpable enough that I moved on to my next placement early. In retrospect, I never gave most people the chance to accept me. But I wasn’t in a position to handle their rejection then.
Looking back, I know that part of why I struggled to be open was because I had no support at work.
No-one was particularly homophobic, but even if they were allies, how could they help someone who wasn’t even comfortable admitting they needed help in the first place? Obviously my family and friends would do all they could for me, but they didn’t have many ways to relate to my experiences, and I didn’t really know anyone in the queer community either.
Surely I wasn’t the only gay man employed, but I had no idea how to connect with anyone else on that level.
The chance to make a real difference
In my second year there, a newsletter came out looking for volunteers to help start an LGBTQ+ employee resource group (ERG) within that automaker’s Canadian division. I took notice.
It took another year before anything came of that request, and it took me even longer to join the effort. Once I did, though, I found something I’d been missing. As a leader of the ERG, I kept telling myself that it was purely resume padding: a leadership experience and skill-building exercise.
What I had really wanted the whole time was a sign: some signal that, as far as my employer was concerned, it was perfectly acceptable to be myself at work, and that I wasn’t alone.
The mere existence of that ERG, and someone deciding that people like me were worth acknowledging and creating space for, meant everything. To be an active part of it? Even more so. It meant that I would be able to make my workplace the kind of place that I, and others like me, needed it to be.
I left that role to join Xero in June of 2021. In my first week, I saw a message inviting volunteers to help start an LGBTQ+ ERG for Xeros in the Americas.
My manager (who hardly knew me at that point) made it clear that I had his full support in volunteering, even as I was still trying to figure out how to set up my laptop. Throughout the recruitment and hiring process, I’d gleaned that Xero was an inclusive and welcoming place, but it was clear that Xero was looking to be supportive of its LGBTQ+ employees specifically and in a meaningful way.
I volunteered immediately.
Continuing the good work
That summer, Iridescence — the Xero Americas LGBTQ+ ERG — was founded.
We’re working to give our community a voice, to educate ourselves and our fellow Xeros on challenging and important topics, and to cultivate a compassionate and inclusive culture at Xero.
In the last year alone, we’ve run incredible events like our ‘Leadership Coming Out Panel’, powerful talks from guest speakers, and of course regular membership meetings and communications. The best part? We’re just getting started.
If there’s an ERG relevant to you at your workplace, find a way to connect with them and contribute. If there isn’t, consider advocating for one.
They need your support to exist, to survive and to thrive. And if you’ve ever wondered why ERGs exist, or why anyone runs them or participates in them, I hope my story gives you some insight.
I know what an ERG would have meant to me when I was trying to find my way out of the closet in my first job. If Iridescence can help provide that kind of support, or signal of acceptance, to even one Xero, I think we’ll have succeeded.
