Roles.
A recent experience has helped me more clearly see the role of subtle discrimination and implicit bias in our society.
Thought I’d share:
Our media coverage at Miracle Messages tends to focus on my story and the contributions that I have made as the Founder and CEO. While I’m very grateful for my leadership role and fully appreciate the staying power of our founding story, we have been a collective effort for a very long time.
At the forefront of what makes Miracle Messages a collective movement rather than an individual odyssey is the partnership that I have with my colleague of the past two years, Jessica Donig. Jess started as a volunteer, then became program manager, then director of programs, and now is my full-fledged partner in this venture.
We know what makes Miracle Messages work is the collective. But all too often, this is not what the world sees or portrays.
A few weeks ago, CBS contacted us about doing a story on our work in Union Square, San Francisco. Our collaboration with the Union Square Business Improvement District is significant: an innovative public-private partnership with results, and our first-ever paid service contract in a city.
Last night, that story aired on KPIX CBS San Francisco Bay Area. We are thrilled that our collaboration with Union Square BID is getting the recognition it deserves. However, there were a few key omissions in the coverage: Jess’ name was not mentioned, a dubious omission given that she is spearheading this collaboration. Also overlooked were our volunteers at Zumper who were instrumental in the reunion and homecoming of Wayne and his niece, Jasmine. And Brian and Beverly, our two Community Ambassadors, were referred to as “two formerly homeless volunteers,” despite being interviewed by the reporter.
This is not about getting credit or having one person’s name included and another person’s name omitted. This is about power and perception: the narrative of the sole leader (usually a man) swashbuckling his way into success is a staid cultural artifact that, as long as I’ve been a social entrepreneur in Silicon Valley, I’ve never actually seen. (Have you?)
And yet, the language in the piece echoes our country’s mythology of rugged individualism and the self-made man:
“Kevin Adler and his group”
“That’s when [the Union Square BID] turned to Kevin”
“Kevin’s group”
“two formerly homeless volunteers”
None of this is to blame the reporter (who is great) or the local station (which has been very forward-thinking in spotlighting innovations in this space). We all play a role in contributing to — and tacitly accepting — these narratives.
I know I do.
For far too long, despite championing my partnership with Jess as an equal one, I defaulted to industry standard salary ranges for each of our job titles as the basis for varying our salaries. Fortunately, I kept at least one ear open, and have a partner in Jess who is very patient with me. Instead of writing me off as part of “the problem,” she took time to discuss why we should both be compensated the same if I truly saw us as equal partners.
And you know what? She was right.
As of February of this year, thanks to these conversations and a supportive board, we have set our compensation as equal. We finally thumbed our noses at outdated industry standards and their irrelevance for a two-person innovative startup nonprofit like ours. (How about yours?)
Now, back to the media coverage.
I’m beyond grateful that Jess and I have a partnership and friendship that is built on trust, courageous conversation, giving each other the benefit of the doubt, and genuine care for each other and ourselves. A few days after she sat on the sidelines while the CBS crew interviewed everyone on our team except her, at one point idly waiting for my arrival, she confided in me about what had happened, and told me that, thought it was not a big deal, it bothered her.
I realized that internal equilibrium in responsibility and pay were not enough. As long as our titles diverged in their perceived power on the outside — me as the CEO, her as the Chief whatever whatever — people would continue to lessen her stature and aggrandize mine. From being inadvertently overlooked in occasional media coverage to the more overtly sexist comments that presumed Jessica was my “assistant,” “secretary,” or “helper,” I realized that we cannot fight for just one cause alone — be it relational poverty, or homelessness, or the stigma associated with either — without standing up against any form of discrimination and belittlement that we encounter.
And so, last month we we decided to update Jess’ title to be commensurate with her importance to this movement: Executive Director.
Our playbook now is to avoid telling people that I exist, unless in reference to our founding story or absolutely necessary. I feel that this is not only the right thing, but makes good business sense: I want to be less of a bottleneck for the thousands of volunteers who have reached out asking how they can make Miracle Messages their own in their communities, for the hundreds of partners who want to offer this life-changing service to their clients, for the scores of funders who want to invest in expanding the impact of our work, and for anyone else inspired to make a difference but waiting for permission.
To paraphrase Marshall McLuhan, there are no passengers here on Spaceship Earth. We are all crew… and we are all learning as we go. By sharing vulnerably this small vignette about how our team at Miracle Messages encountered an instance of someone not being treated with the respect they deserve, and took a few small steps to try to address it, I hope others can identify their own potential for affecting change in their spheres of influence.
Our world will be better for it.
