Gay and Transgender Issues in the Workplace

          The Human Rights Campaign (HRC) gives out too many “100%” ratings to corporations.   

          If a teacher gives every pupil an “A” as a grade, he or she has eliminated the incentive to learn and to improve. My French teacher in college had a crush on me and she gave me the answers to the final exam. I loved the help but she should have failed me. I wasn’t ready for French II, which I failed because I had a different teacher. I had to write an extra-credit paper to graduate.

         I liked my French teacher, just as I like very much Daryl Herrschaft and Samir Luther, the two very hard-working men at HRC who grade corporations. But the 260 “A”s they awarded companies in 2008 eliminates the incentive of those companies to actually create a safe and productive work environment for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender employees and consumers. Most gay and transgender people who work at companies with 100% rating are still afraid to come out of the closet because non-discrimination policies and domestic partner benefits do not change corporate culture.

     No corporation should receive an “A” unless it provides across-the-board comprehensive diversity training on gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender workplace issues. To get 100% from HRC, a company is required to say that they provide education on the topic, but HRC’s five out of 100 points for mentioning gay issues during training and their five out of 100 points for mentioning transgender issues during training are give-aways. Only a handful of companies, to my knowledge, actually provide their employees at all levels the information they need to walk the company’s talk on valuing diversity. Why should they do so when they know that other companies are getting a 100% rating from HRC just for saying that they include the subjects in diversity training? Where’s the incentive to improve?

     Out of the possible 100 points that can be secured by a corporation, HRC should assign at least 25 points, if not more, for comprehensive diversity training specifically on gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender issues to which every employee would be expected to attend. As much as I love and respect HRC for its workplace efforts, I have been frustrated for years by its lack of focus on the real means of transforming the workplace. The reason that I keep pushing them to place more value on training is that my 34 years experience as an educator on these issues underscores the reality that policies don’t change behaviors. Awareness changes behavior. Awareness comes from education, not from company ideals.

     When the Employment Non-Discrimination Act (ENDA), which will prohibit discrimination against gay and transgender people in the workplace, is passed this year or next by Congress and signed into law by the President, what will HRC do then with the 30 points they currently assign to such corporate policies? Hint. Hint. Add them to the score for training and don’t give the company that says it provides education an “A” unless they prove it and really deserve it.

     “I recently had a male employee that lost his Life Partner. I did struggle with how to share the news as while he is somewhat open about his relationship I wasn’t really sure how to handle the situation. I know his close personal friends/co-workers knew of his relationship but I didn’t want to share too much with the branch. However, looking at it from my perspective, if I lost my husband, I would want everyone to know so they could be sensitive to the issue.”

 *  * *

     Thank you for your thoughtfulness and sensitivity. Your instincts are right on target. You don’t want to share information with your employees about their colleague being gay, and yet you don’t want to have your grieving employee feel there is a double standard on how gay family issues are handled. Nor do you want your employee to return to a workplace in which people show no awareness of, or sensitivity to, his significant loss.

     If I was your gay employee and Ray died, I would want the support of people at work who knew I was gay and with whom I was friends, but I wouldn’t want to spend my time at the wake or funeral educating others about my relationship. When I returned to work, I’d want people to understand that my world, as I knew it, had ended tragically, but I wouldn’t want to have to guess who knew and who didn’t know that I was gay and grieving.

     Yet there are gay men and women throughout the world who would feel very differently from me, and that’s the challenge you face. It seems to me that the key elements to consider are:

1.      What’s the company’s practice when the spouse or child of a heterosexual employee dies? Are flowers sent? Are memos circulated? Does a representative of the firm attend the wake, funeral, or memorial service?

     I suggest that you consult with Human Resources if you’re unsure of the company’s “best practice.” If the company has a standard operating procedure for these situations, try your best to provide an equal response when the employee is gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender.

2.      What’s in the best interest of the employee?

       I’d find out, to the best of your ability, what response the employee would prefer. You don’t want to compound the emotional stress they are already experiencing. If your relationship with your bereaved employee is personally close, you could visit with him in person (or call if necessary) and share with him your concern. You might say, “Is there anything I can do to support you at this time? How would you like me to handle news of your loss in the office? If it was me whose spouse had died, I’d want my colleagues to be told so that they could, if they wanted, show support by sending flowers, attending the wake and/or the funeral, or by being sensitive to my feelings when I returned to work. But you may not feel that way.”

     Lacking a close personal relationship with the employee, I would explain my dilemma to someone at work who I knew was a close personal friend of his and I’d ask if he or she would discreetly inquire how the widowed person would like the matter handled at work.

     In the absence of any personal connection with the gay or lesbian employee who has lost his or her spouse, I would consult with Human Resources and agree upon a plan. I would indicate to HR my intention to pay my personal respects by attending whatever public service, if any, is arranged.

3.      What is the most helpful approach to take with his or her colleagues?

If I was a colleague of a person who had suffered a great loss, I would want to be told so that I had the opportunity to show support, if even to volunteer to take on the person’s workload in their absence. At the very least, I would expect to be personally told, or to receive a memo, that explained that so-and-so has experienced a tragic loss in his/her family and will be out of work for awhile. I would like more information so that my comments to my colleague were appropriate and helpful when they returned and not unintentionally burdensome. But if they preferred that details not be given, I would respect that.

4.      What will best ensure that you and the company are seen by all persons concerned to truly value the diversity represented by each employee?

        Providing a sensitive, balanced, heartfelt response, both personally and as a representative of the company will communicate to everyone that they are valued, particularly if the same sensitive, balanced, heartfelt response is given both personally and as a representative of the company the next time the death of an employee’s spouse occurs.

       In these challenging situations at work, if you feel there is no help available to guide you in how best to respond, I think that it’s best to trust your heart and the wise voice inside you that says, “Treat them as you’d like to be treated.” Worry less about doing the wrong thing and more about doing the right thing. 

     The United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) had, as of the first of the year, 31,676 employees of which nearly 13,000 are special agents. Several years ago, my friend Mary Lee Tatum told me that she was at a Washington D.C. dinner party at which an FBI agent stated with full conviction to a room full of politicians and other capitol insiders that there were no homosexuals in the FBI. “Everyone at the table laughed,” she said.

     During the 48 years in which J. Edgar Hoover was the director of the FBI, there were probably no openly gay or transgender people in the organization. But today, there are, of course, out and proud gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people who work for the agency, as well as many, many men and women who are our strong allies there. One such outspoken ally is the cherished big brother of a dear lesbian friend, Kim Cromwell.

     Though he has recently retired from the FBI, Bob Cromwell was for many years one of the strongest voices and most influential leaders on our behalf. Every gay person at the agency who I know speaks of Bob with great respect. When I told Kim this week that I planned to write about Bob and the FBI, she replied:

     “Bob has been a wonderful ally in so many ways.  You might ask him about his work supporting transgendered people and about when he introduced Barney Frank at the Department of Justice.  While there are ‘big’ issues he’s championed, I must say that it’s probably the ‘little’ day-to-day conversations that Bob initiates which will change the world.  I frequently hear from people about Bob discussing our civil rights — our right to marry, the very dignity of our lives — with straight people he knows. Many of those people, I suspect, have never heard from a straight man who holds these issues so close to his heart.  I couldn’t ask for a better big brother.  He’s one of my best friends, and a true champion for equality.”

      I started thinking about Bob Cromwell and the FBI when he wrote me this week in response to last week’s blog.

     “Your blog is excellent.  As I have roamed through them, I have yet to be disappointed.  Your comment in your recent post concerning the brave transgender person reminded me of an agent in the FBI.  He was 10 years on the job, with a wife and two children, the best shot in the office, and the leader of his division’s SWAT Team; we’re talking a poster-child for Soldier of Fortune magazine.  After years of therapy, he concluded he was born a woman in a man’s body.  He went through the steps recommended for someone in his situation and announced to his friends and colleagues his intent to change gender.  It was not well received.  A request was even made to headquarters for a ‘lack of effectiveness’ transfer.  We found as a man, he was an aggressive agent doing work appreciated by the U.S. Attorney’s office and as a woman, nothing had changed.  She was an aggressive agent doing good work appreciated by the U.S. Attorney’s office.   And, I think it fair to say, she’s one very brave person. (I ended up putting together a Power Point with background provided by HRC on transgender issues and one of our Assistant Directors went out to the Division to educate them and lay the matter to rest.)”

     The FBI officially welcomes gay people to its ranks. The agency director, Robert Mueller, has stated:

     “We believe that the diversity of American society should be represented at all levels of the FBI…Today’s FBI demands that we become more diverse and we are working harder than ever to be more inclusive – for all people, regardless of ….sexual orientation.”

     Though I haven’t done any diversity work with the FBI, I suspect that like their sister organization, the National Security Agency (NSA) with which I have done training, it seeks to create an environment in which all employees feel not just accepted but valued so that they might attract and retain the best and brightest people. “Gender Identity and Expression” is not yet in the government’s Equal Opportunity statement but I believe that within the next couple of years, both gay and transgender people will be protected from discrimination on a national level by the passage of the Employment Non-Discrimination Act.

     Nevertheless, despite the assumption of an agent who probably has since retired that there were no homosexuals in the FBI, the agency seems to have done a good job of making sure that talented transsexuals aren’t lost despite the lack of legal protection, and that gay people and their strong allies like Bob Cromwell have the ability, through their own lives and words, to educate their colleagues on the issues. I want to believe that would ultimately have pleased J. Edgar Hoover. It has made it a stronger, more effective FBI.  

     (To learn more about Brian’s work and his educational resources, please go to www.brian-mcnaught.com.)

     In my youth, if someone called you a “homo” or a “moron,” the reply was usually, “It takes one to know one,” meaning “You’d have to be a homo to recognize another homo.” It was an inane comment but it usually shut them up more effectively than “So is your mother.”

     Today, that same phrase – “It takes one to know one” - has a completely different and much richer meaning for me.

     Alan Goldstein was the Jewish boy who lived behind me growing up in Flint, Michigan. He was my best friend for many years. It was through the time I spent with Alan and his family that I initially learned about Jewish celebrations such as Hanukkah, and also about the sting of anti-Semitism which I saw in Alan’s face when another Christian eight-year-old in the neighborhood called him a “kike.”

     Dr. Sol Gordon, my recently-deceased wise mentor and generous sponsor in the field of human sexuality, also had a profound impact on my understanding and appreciation of Jews. His wife Judith’s family narrowly escaped a concentration camp when they learned at the last minute that their Christian neighbors, who coveted their farmland, had turned them into the Nazis.  Both Sol and Judith made lifetime commitments to issues of social justice. Knowing them and knowing Alan Goldstein enabled me to better know Jews and their unique experiences of life. Thank you, Alan, Sol, and Judith. It takes one to know one.

     When I was being harassed by other employees at The Michigan Catholic, the diocesan newspaper from which I was fired for being gay in 1974, my biggest ally and best friend there was a big, beautiful black woman typesetter named Mildred McIver who pulled me aside one day and in tears told me that she was being pressured to sign a petition that decried me. It was Mildred, in better days at the paper, who told me about going to movies as a child and being forced to sit in the balcony with other black people, and how they used to deliberately drive the white folks on the first floor crazy by bringing friend chicken with them to eat. “They kept turning around and looking up, wishing that had some of that good-smelling chicken too,” she laughed. We lost touch after I was fired and moved away, but I hold her dear in my heart and always will. Mildred wasn’t the first black person I met, but she was the most self-affirmed.

     That was, until I met Pam Wilson, my soul mate, fellow trainer, and mentor on issues of race. Pam taught me (and still does) a great deal about being black in America, its many, many joys and its many, many challenges. It was through Mildred and Pam that I knew better what it means to be black. Thank you, Mildred and Pam.  It takes one to know one.

     My youngest sister, Pam, was born with multiple birth defects and died at the age of fifteen months despite all of our prayers and petitions in her behalf. As a family, we spent most of her short life trying to get her to make eye contact with us, to smile, and ultimately to live. My earliest experience of disability was therefore weakness and need. Then I met Deb Dagit, the director of Diversity at Merck, who is anything but weak and needy. She’s a powerhouse who with her cane, crutches, or wheelchair runs circles personally and professionally around most “able-bodied” people I know.  It is through people like Deb, and many others with disabilities, that I have come to understand how minimally a physical disability can impact a person’s ability to live full, happy, and productive lives. Thank you, Pam and Deb. It takes one to know one.

     Growing up, I always hated the stereotype of gay men wishing that they were women. I was therefore cautious and uncomfortable with the transgender issue until I met Jackie, a 6’2” former infantryman transsexual, and Roberta, a shy heterosexual male cross-dresser, one summer at a weeklong program in human sexuality. While I was polite and gracious to them at first, I was nevertheless confused enough that I kept my emotional distance for the first couple of days. But quite quickly, they each won me over with their happiness, their courage, their determination, and their powerful stories of struggle to become the people that their inner voice called them to be. Thank you, Jackie and Roberta.  You’ve got to be one to know one.

      Don’t you think that it’s true for all of us that meeting someone different from us and connecting with them as human beings is what bridges the gap created by ignorance on the issues with which we flounder in fear? I received an e-mail message this week from an “almost 65-year-old” Irish Catholic nurse friend of mine. She wrote:

     “I figured it out when I was 25-years-old and went to a conference in Montreal for nursing education units.  The presentation was by the Gender Identity Clinic of Hartford and for me - the young RC (Roman Catholic) nurse - scandalous to the max.  The presentation was about transsexual surgery (we are talking almost 40 years ago) and encompassed the story of a male child who saw himself to be female and went through all the family, school, adolescent, adult “challenges” and how he eventually applied to the clinic for surgery.  It took us step by step through every single aspect of this situation from the genetic, physical, psychological, emotional issues with the young man, to the same aspects of the procedure, and all that was required to make this happen.  To make a long story short, the voice of the “patient” was used in many presentations with his/her perspective and the second from final piece was slide by slide detailed pictures of the surgery. Already captured by the pain of the patient, I was caught in the middle of watching and not watching (because it was so destructive and unethical and UNCATHOLIC)…so I peeked.  When it was over there was a panel Q &A session and the leader asked if we would like to meet “Susan” and of course we did.  As it turned out, Susan was in the audience all week, pretending to be a nurse, eating meals with different groups and going out with a few for sight-seeing of Montreal.   I was changed.  It colored the rest of my life.  I have many gay friends, male and female.  Because I spoke up in situations of prejudice, many people came out to me and that would never have happened without that exposure….and I would hate to think of life without those friendships.”

     Valuing diversity in our lives opens us up to a far richer life than we would otherwise have. But to value diversity, we need to be exposed to it. To know it, we need someone to “be” it. Likewise, for them to know us too, we must “be” it. It really does take one to know one.

     Maybe we could all take just a minute to reflect gratefully on the people who have helped us better understand the different experiences of human existence. 

     (To contact Brian directly and to learn more about his work and resources, please go to www.brian-mcnaught.com)