The Big Problem with My 27 Bosses

In almost 30 jobs across 40 years of working, my supervisors have all had one troubling thing in common.

By Craig Irons

Earlier this year, I had the pleasure of recording a podcast with Michael Brenner. Michael is a widely recognized marketing expert and thought leader, and author of the book Mean People Suck: How Empathy Leads to Bigger Profits and a Better Life.

As I prepared for the podcast by reading Mean People Suck, one of the things that really intrigued me was something Michael said in the first paragraph of the first page. He pointed out that over the course of his work life, which started at age 12, he had held 53 different jobs. As I wanted to delve into this point during our recorded conversation, I sat down and made my own list of the jobs I have held. I didn’t have as many as Michael, but the list still reached 27 jobs.

Twenty-seven might sound like a lot or, given your own personal work history, maybe not. But as I have just wrapped up a job I had held for nearly 20 years, it’s an opportune moment to take stock of my work life to date.

My 27 jobs have included manual labor (mowing lawns, washing golf carts), mundane jobs (removing staples from papers—for an entire eight-hour shift), challenging jobs (college professor, public relations account executive), fun jobs (newspaper reporter, bagging groceries in a small-town supermarket), not-so-fun jobs (bellman at a Best Western), jobs I was good at (writer on an internal marketing communications team, academic advisor), and jobs I was I terrible at (short-order cook).

For all of the variety in my lifetime of employment, though, it has lately occurred to me that not once, across 27 jobs, have I had a direct supervisor who was a person of color.

I am embarrassed that I had never stopped to think about this before. In this year when we are finally waking to our society’s many shortcomings when it comes to race, this hasn’t been my only “aha” moment. But it has been a profound one. And statistics bear out that my experience probably isn’t unique.

The Numbers Don’t Lie

According to the U.S. Census, African Americans (13.4 percent) and Hispanic Americans (18.3 percent), account for about 32 percent of the total U.S. population. While these numbers come from the 2019 estimates and I held most of the jobs prior to that year, all things being equal, I still should have had closer to eight supervisors of color (about 32 percent of 27) than zero.

But, of course, all things aren’t equal. Data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics showed that in 2018 41 percent of Whites worked in management, professional, and related occupations. That’s 10 percentage points higher than African Americans (31 percent) and nearly 20 percentage points higher than Hispanics (22 percent). (Interestingly, 54 percent of Asians—13 percentage points more than Whites—were in management, professional, and related jobs, according to the same data.)

Geography matters, too. During my formative years, when I had my earliest jobs, and also during my years as a graduate student and as a young professional, I lived and worked in West Virginia. West Virginia is 92 percent white.

"Sometimes it’s only when we make personal connections that we can truly recognize a problem."

Since the late 1990s, though, I’ve lived and worked in a significantly more diverse metropolitan area (Pittsburgh), which is about 67 percent white. Yet, while I’ve lived in a neighborhood that is more diverse than the one I grew up in and benefited in innumerable ways from having jobs in diverse workplaces (thought, admittedly, they weren’t as diverse as they could have been), I still haven’t had a supervisor of color.

Also, while the numbers help to tell the tale, they certainly don’t provide a satisfactory explanation. Thinking back, I can’t believe it was purely a function of the numbers. I recall few of my employers expressing a commitment to diversity and representation in their leadership ranks, even though there must have been highly competent and skilled individuals within those organizations who wanted to lead and who would have been great in those roles.

But I do find my experience to be a way to connect my own work past to the work and career advancement prospects that are too often denied to others. Sometimes it’s only when we make these personal connections that we can truly recognize a problem.

I understand now more than ever that my lifetime of white supervisors is a problem. But awareness is one thing. The real challenge is to identify how the absence of diversity in the managerial ranks occurs and what I can do within the system to help effect change.

A Problem of Bias

I can talk about geography and other factors when examining my history of white supervisors, but no factor looms as large as racial bias. In addition, recruiters and hiring managers carry many forms of unconscious bias into interviews, where they make snap judgments based on race, gender, age, etc., often without realizing it (thus the name “unconscious bias”). If they aren’t aware of their own biases, they won’t identify them as problems and take steps to correct them.

Additionally, fighting against our own unconscious biases requires an awareness of how we’ve benefitted from them. When I was hired into my 27 jobs, which included leadership and supervisory roles, how often did I get selected because someone else was unfairly disqualified? I must accept that unconscious bias has benefited me in my career. I also must accept that my own biases have likely impacted my career decisions. Is it possible I’ve declined offers for biased reasons while believing other factors carried more weight?

My Own Commitment

So, what can I do with this information?

I am currently conducting a job search amid the economic fallout of a global pandemic. One small thing I can do is acknowledge that even this challenge has been made easier for me by privilege. I will also be more conscious of my own bias as I select opportunities to pursue.

Most critically, the next time I am in a position to interview job candidates, I will be much more aware of and diligent about checking my own unconscious biases. And if involved in a discussion in which a hiring decision is made, I will actively speak up if someone questions whether or not a candidate would “fit in.” I will challenge words that get tossed around in hiring discussions, including “nontraditional” and “corporate culture”—even “professional.” We can’t continue letting racism sneak in behind code words.

In the big picture, I know these are small steps and they aren’t enough; I need to find ways to do so much more. But I can’t help but wonder how many more great people would have opportunities if everyone involved in making hiring decisions took even these small steps.

Nothing can change within organizations until diverse voices are in “the room where it happens.” (Yes, my wife has been watching Hamilton on a loop). We are beginning to see changes as many employers commit to diversity, not just in hiring but also in mentoring and promoting. Of course, more progress needs to be made.

When all is said and done, I hope I don’t end up having as many jobs as Michael Brenner has had. But regardless of how many more I do have, I hope to join my colleagues in identifying and shedding our biases, embracing the diversity, and contributing to the demolishing of organizational racism.