“There’s a diversity problem in tech” — [Insert VC, Founder or CEO name here]
Last week, I met with an impact entrepreneur and aspiring philanthropist. We met to chat about his new start-up. In the next hour, we told our stories, touched upon his experience getting funding and spoke about the start-up culture in SF. Towards the end of our conversation, I decided to ask him about a VC I’d come across. I had a particular interest because this VC has been working on changing the diversity landscape in tech for some time. They had also recently posted an analyst position, and I was in need of a job.
“It’s no secret that there’s a diversity problem in tech,” he said. “ But that VC focuses on funding and hiring entrepreneurs of color. It’s been their model since inception, so I’m not saying they don’t hire white males, but you’d probably have better luck looking at a different firm.”
I’m still an outsider to the tech world. I’ve not yet worked in the industry, and up until two months ago I wasn’t even considering it a career path. But, as they often do, things change. For the past two months, I’ve been in SF on the networking circuit. The diversity issue has come up a few times. Each time, I’m left with some questions: What constitutes diversity? What does a diverse hire actually mean? Do they have a specific skin color? Do they have to be bilingual? Does sexual orientation count, or is gender the only label crowned diverse when talking sexuality? Do the hiring managers put a gold star next to diverse candidates during the recruiting process? Is it all about self-identification, or is perception paramount?
The impact entrepreneur I met took a look at my fair-skinned complexion and assumed I was not diverse. Maybe it’s my stunning good looks? My clean-cut GQ style? Who knows? Whatever it is, he and others almost always perceive me as a white male. I don’t deny, being perceived as a white male has its benefits, but perceptions are not always true.
Despite my appearance and my lack of Spanish language skills, my great-grandparents immigrated to this country from Mexico in the early part of the 20th century. My grandmother was the only child born in the United States. She married a white man and had my mother. Thirty-five years later my mother married another white man and had me. That makes me a third generation Mexican-American, clocking in at 25 percent on the bloodline diversity scale. Maybe we add an arbitrary diversity multiplication factor as a person who identifies on the LGBTQ spectrum? Cool, now I’m doubled down on diversity. The only thing left for me to do is to let the world know. I guess I need come out twice — first as a mixed-race Hispanic, second as a gay man. Easier said than done.
When applications ask for my race or ethnicity I mark mixed race, and when possible I specify that part of that mixed race is Hispanic/Latino. They seldom do, but when an application asks about sexual orientation I happily identify as homosexual. In person, however, when I’m out on the networking circuit, things are different. Diversity is a hard subject to speak about. It’s a socially taboo subject, and the temptation is great to avoid taboo subjects when you’re trying to impress others to get a job.
Let’s say I take the formula of reaching out and cold calling employees at a company I’m interested in. It goes something like this:
“Hey. Let’s have coffee! I’ll tell you my story. Tell me about your company. Oh wow so cool! I think that’s revolutionary because [list of reasons]. Here’s how I think I can contribute [list of value-ads]. We have some common experience. Awesome. What are then next steps?”
From what I’ve been told, this is the tried and true method of a job hunt. As a discerning candidate, though, somehow I also need to work in my own diversity narrative. Why? Because someone said back in the day to “speak truth to power”. Hoorah! I’m all for social justice. But let’s be honest, the less noble part of me wants to improve my chances in the job market. It goes something like this:
“Oh, and by the way, I’m diverse even though my last name says otherwise. Don’t worry, I’m not at risk of becoming another Rachel Dolezal. At least I think I’m not, but actually who knows. I don’t know what the cut off is to be considered a diverse hire. I think I’m diverse, though. I check the right boxes. So hire me, please?”
Ok, in real life I don’t actually say this. That’s certainly not the way to go about the networking process. Is it? If it is, get in contact. I’d love to get coffee and learn of your success.
Anyhow, I’m willing to bet that there are lots of techies, aspiring techies and even non-techies out there with similar stories. They’re trying to navigate their own experience with diversity while trying to build a successful career in a historically hostile environment. Perhaps they end up perplexed on how to honor these competing identities. They want a rewarding career, but they want an empathetic company as well. They see companies talking about diversity:
“Hey. Here are our diversity numbers. We need to change them. Less white males more everything else! Check out these cool affirmative action programs. We want you, [insert non-model minority status here], to work for us! Come be our token. But make sure you can hop through our hoops. We’re not gonna lower the bar, after all.”
Well, fellow diverse people, I don’t know what else to tell you other than don’t give up. You’re not alone. I’m trying to figure this shit out as well.
A special thanks to @Shaft for his article a few days ago. You don’t know me, but your article and its responses inspired this post. Also, thanks to Ev Williams and all the Medium staff for providing such a valuable tool for public discourse, the real way to solve the diversity issue. Hire me, please?
