Below is the copy of an email I sent my team on June 30, 2015:
On Friday afternoon, I sat down to be interviewed by a high school student interning at my company this summer.
She had prepared a number of thoughtful questions about the path that led me from the classroom to running a company, including this one: what's the best part, and the hardest part, about being CEO?
I explained that, for me, the answer was the same for both questions - what I enjoy most about my role is being in charge - setting the vision, charting the path towards that vision, inspiring others to join me on that path, deciding when and how to adjust course in highly ambiguous situations. And what is most difficult is the fact that no one is telling me what to do, advice is often conflicting, and there are many people relying on me to make decisions in situations where there is often no "right" answer.
Yet, as I've been reflecting this weekend, there's more to it.
When you're the CEO, your words and actions carry more weight than the average person's. The feedback you give to employees, the questions you ask in meetings, the topics you choose to discuss - and those you gloss over - send a message about what matters within your company.
That weight has felt heavier than ever to carry in the past two weeks.
I woke up two Thursdays ago to the news of the shooting in Charleston, and started my work day by leading my company's Board meeting - without stopping to acknowledge the terrible news.
In the emails and meetings and Hangouts and Skype calls with colleagues since then, I've continued to skip over current events like the tragedy in Charleston, the history-making Supreme Court decision about marriage equality, terrorist attacks abroad, instead choosing to proceed like it's business as usual.
All the while, I'm beating myself up on the inside for not knowing what to say, for being afraid to say the "wrong" thing, for wondering what good it will do to invite dialogue about inequality and injustice in a work environment, for knowing that it will require us to own our struggle to build a truly diverse team and acknowledge that we're far from perfect.
For feeling like talking about prejudice and inequality isn't enough. And simultaneously feeling that, as a mission-driven company, we're already working to address injustice in our country's education system; what more can we do?
As Gabrielle Blair writes:
"There are deeply smart, endlessly eloquent people that have written, and continue to write, thousands of good, moving words on the subject of race in America, and specifically the brutal killings in Charleston. What can I possibly add to the conversation? Well, probably nothing. But that’s not the point. The point is to have the conversation. To talk about this. To not just read and click “like” and move on. But to actually talk about this, to discuss it, to communicate about it. To share an opinion, and to be open to having that opinion change if necessary. I can read something or follow a hashtag and shake my head in disbelief and shame, but if I don’t speak up and talk about this with everyone that falls within the sound of my voice, then I’m adding to the problem, not helping."
As hard as it is to admit, adding to the problem means that when I, the CEO, keep my mouth shut about current events, I'm sending a message to my team that these topics aren't important, that you shouldn't be talking about them at work, that we're too busy or have more important things to do.
So here's what I want to say to my team: That's not true. We can't show up to work acting as if it's business as usual when it's not. We need to be able to acknowledge current events happening beyond our corporate walls, even if we don't know what to do about them. Because talking about it isn't enough, but that doesn't make it ok to ignore the conversation all together.