It's important to have a broad understanding of workplace diversity and inclusion.
This is uncomfortable to write.
For most of the three decades I’ve been working, I was what my friend and colleague Daniel Gorlin calls a “heads down” Jew: while proud to be Jewish, I didn’t advertise it—especially when my observance had the potential to make things uncomfortable.
What this means is that I’d tell colleagues and clients that I’m Jewish only on a need-to-know basis. Since I’m more than just casually observant, however, there were many times they needed to know: when I’d go offline to observe Jewish holidays, for example, including some that many Jews are unfamiliar with, such as Shemini Atzeret; when I needed to be home and offline by sundown, which is often before 4 p.m. during the winter, and on Passover and fasting days, when I can’t even try to partake in mealtime meetings.
I provided these Jewish specifics only when necessary. Anyone sending me an email on a Jewish religious holiday, for example, would receive an “auto-reply” message that would say, “I cannot access emails until DATE. If you need assistance, please contact NAME [my administrative assistant] who can direct you to someone who can help.” I didn’t explain why. I just wasn’t comfortable putting my observance out there on email.
Of course, colleagues who worked closely with me knew that I’m religiously observant. Junior team members even joked among themselves that they’d know exactly when a holiday ended because the email barrage would start shortly thereafter.
Why was I so heads down? I’m not really sure. There were probably a number of reasons. Maybe I was afraid I wouldn’t be liked—or that I’d be discriminated against—if my coworkers knew I was one of “them.”
You hear things that make you wonder about people—even people who you know are not antisemitic, at least not intentionally so, such as the senior partner who told me in my first year on the job, when I was explaining at a team dinner what I could and couldn’t eat, “nobody who is intelligent” keeps Kosher anymore because we have such great food safety laws. Well, I guess that makes me a dummy. Or at the wedding of a business school friend, having to explain to a classmate’s wife why I didn’t want to taste the amazing scallops wrapped in bacon and she replied (seriously), “Oh, your people are just so good with money.” Intended, but not received, as a compliment. Awkward.
Maybe I hid the truth because I was embarrassed. Like every other group, we certainly have some embarrassing members—but why do I feel responsible for them? Or when I’m expected to endorse or condemn something the Israeli government does; why is that part of my portfolio?
Another reason I kept my head down was that I didn’t want to be considered different. I just wanted to fit it. And I especially didn’t want to feel the pressure of representing “the tribe”—either in the good sense (intelligent, well-educated, hard-working) or in the stereotypical sense (intelligent, over-educated, aggressively-ambitious). For these and other reasons, some of which may have been subconscious, I kept my head down. Nobody needed to know unless they really needed to know.
And, as Gorlin put it: “I didn’t want to cause waves.” For various reasons, we’ve all been in this position at one time or another during our working lives.
Several things happened over the past few years, however, that caused me to pull my head up. I realized, for example, that:
Others can’t hide; why should I enjoy the privilege? There is ample evidence—just ask South Carolina Sen. Tim Scott, a likely GOP presidential candidate, who recounts (without bitterness) being pulled over by the police for “driving while Black”—that some people still judge others by their outward appearance. Since that’s something most people can’t change, or hide, even if they’re inclined to do so, why should I be allowed to put my head down and hide? It’s not fair. Putting my head up, in a way, became an act of camaraderie.
Many colleagues with similar backgrounds also were keeping a low profile. As Mark Shields, the late political commentator and Democratic campaign strategist, famously said: “There is always strength in numbers.” Like so many other companies, BCG has had networks for women, Black, Latino and LGBTQ employees, but never for Jewish employees. I never thought we needed one. Somebody else did—and before I knew it, the Jewish@BCG Slack channel had more than 400 members. Due to seniority, Gorlin and I sort-of became unofficial co-leaders. We started getting questions from much-younger Jewish employees about how to handle work during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the High Holidays, and how to discuss the holidays with managers and co-workers. On a more-personal level, every holiday—even the obscure ones—came with celebrations on the channel and even some holiday cooking events via Zoom. Today, we have a vibrant and fun community.
There’s work to be done and it can only be done with our heads up. We’ve all seen the disturbing statistics about recent increases in antisemitism. The antidote is not silence. One of the Boston area’s most prominent business and civic leaders, New England Patriots owner Robert Kraft, joined the fight against the centuries-old hatred some four years ago, in 2019, when he established the Foundation to Combat Antisemitism (FCAS). Earlier this year FCAS launched a nationwide campaign, “Stand up to Jewish hate.” Commercials launching the campaign, in partnership with NBC’s popular show, “The Voice,” made me want to hold my head up high and be counted. Thank you, Mr. Kraft.
So, now I put the names of the Jewish holidays I’m celebrating in my auto-reply messages. I explain Kosher food when I dine out. I hosted the very first Holocaust Remembrance Day event at work, inviting an Auschwitz survivor to be the guest speaker; 900 people attended.
When colleagues wish me a Merry Christmas or Happy Easter, I explain—careful not to embarrass them in any way—that it’s a holiday I don’t celebrate. And no, Hanukkah is not a major Jewish holiday; it’s not the Jewish equivalent of Christmas—those would be Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Passover and Shavuot. Yes, we have many!
The transition from heads down to heads up made me realize how important it is to have a very broad understanding of workplace diversity and inclusion. No two of us are alike. Don’t hide. Celebrate that fact.
It feels great.
