My On-ramp to the MBA

I guess I should announce that I’m going to grad school at Washington University in St. Louis, and the MBA part of my MBA/MSW starts next week. Surprise! Maybe I’ll write more another time. But for now…

Yesterday concluded the 56th annual Orientation Program (OP) for The Consortium for Graduate Studies in Management (CGSM). CGSM is an alliance of two dozen business schools, supported by corporate sponsors, that grant membership to MBA students aligned with CGSM’s mission of increasing representation of Black, Latinx, and Indigenous people in MBAs and business.

Olin Class of 2024’s Consortium members

Most MBA students who are part of The Consortium apply for membership before applying to business schools, and they submit their MBA applications through The Consortium. A small portion of students, like myself, are referred for Consortium membership by their schools after admission, based on whether the school thinks they’re a good fit for CGSM’s mission. I was familiar with The Consortium before I applied to business school, but I didn’t think I was an appropriate fit, as a white man whose own social and racial justice mission only got underway in the last few years. I’m not sure why other students don’t apply to CGSM before applying to business school, but I’d guess some of them are like me.

Among students admitted to The Consortium (the vast majority of applicants are admitted – something like 90%), about three quarters of them receive full-tuition scholarships to their MBA programs (the money actually comes from their schools, I learned), and they’re called Consortium Fellows. The other quarter, like myself, do not receive financial support but still receive invaluable access to the Consortium network – we are Consortium Members.

OP is a gathering for incoming MBA students from the two-dozen member schools in the summer before starting the MBA. It’s primarily a networking and job-seeking event, where employers seeking diverse and high-quality employees are vying for students’ attention, applications, and energy. I also found that it’s a wonderful introduction to the energy, vibes, and skillsets that are awaiting me in business school. There were about 400 students at this event held in Aurora, CO, the first in-person OP since the pandemic started. Because the two classes of students before me only attended virtual OPs, I didn’t have a great idea going into OP of what to expect. I want to share some of my experiences and perceptions in case it’s helpful for anyone.

The conference was 5 days, and I was grateful for the length, because I experienced an acclimation process that was really valuable. On the first evening, I was extremely intimidated walking into a massive conference hall full of 300 people socializing and “networking.” I stuck to the back of the room and left after a few minutes. I was grateful that the first night was set aside for school-specific events. The WashU cohort of nine incoming MBAs, plus a few alumni, second-years, and staff all went go-karting, which was very fun (I did a lot better than I’d expected and was one of the fastest in the group; perhaps not surprising, given how much driving I’ve been doing in the last 18 months). It was a great opportunity to start to connect with my classmates and establish a solid social baseline from which we’d be able to go network with others at the conference.

Over the course of the next few days, between meals, employer-run sessions, and random encounters in the hallways, I grew more and more comfortable. I knew that this is an incredibly unique opportunity to connect with talented students from other schools. What’s more, I knew this was a self-selected group of MBA students who, unlike your average MBA student, had some level of awareness and passion for social justice and anti-oppression.

One stand-out and inspiring event was the “Diversity Theater,” where a participatory theater troupe acted out business scenes, and the facilitator created discussion among the audience about biases and behaviors we witnessed. It may not sound exciting, but it was amazing for me. It was challenging and uncomfortable in all the right ways, and I wish the rest of the conference had revisited those themes. At some point, I felt bold and stood up and invited anyone interested in discussing white accountability groups to come find me. I admit I’m pretty disappointed that no one approached me about this in the subsequent 3 days.

Me inviting conversation about white accountability groups

Because I was keeping it COVID safe, most of my deep connections were one on one, away from large groups. But I really had some wonderful conversations with brilliant, deep, thoughtful people. I only wish I’d been able to have more of them.

One conversation was with Ade, a student at Berkeley Haas. I initiated the conversation when she told me she wanted to get into consulting, and I challenged her by asking “Why?” I had had many conversations with students at OP, where they told me the type of work they wanted to do (consulting, marketing, etc.), but rarely the “why” of what drove them. What was the impact they wanted to make? I want to know who they are and what drives them. In business spaces, that conversation is rarely the default. After some time with Ade, she revealed that she is passionate about supporting education in her home country of Nigeria. But she also inspired great humility in me when she happily admitted that she is going to business school to make more money. She told me that she has family in Nigeria who rely on her remittances for eat. She also has two children. The ability to be intensely values-focused the way I am is very much a privilege. This was a wonderful reminder to me of something that my partner Julie likes to remind me of a tenet of the DBT psychotherapy modality: Everyone is doing their best… and everyone can always do better.

Everyone is doing their best… and everyone can always do better

To the latter part, I do firmly believe that we can all do better. Much of what drives our desires for material wealth and safety is manufactured by our culture of consumption, rather than being based in true human need. However, that is not at all to invalidate or diminish the deep, felt need to accumulate material safety, whether or not having a large house is truly a basic human need. Everyone is doing their best, given the set of circumstances, histories, traumas, and cultures they move through. I have great love and appreciation for wherever people find themselves. My work is going to be holding safe, non-judgmental, loving space for everyone to question the systems that drive their conceptions of what it means to be doing their best, and to embrace that they can be doing better.

Employers at OP

Something magical at OP that took me a couple days to realize is that it is not a typical career-oriented conference. The attendees are pre-vetted, from top schools and exceptionally qualified for most jobs. The employers are explicitly seeking these types of employees – at worst, because they want to be able to say they have a diverse workforce; at best, because they truly see the value of having diverse voices and experiences; but either way, they want to hire Consortium students. The effect of these circumstances is that guards are down, and employers and students are free to have authentic conversations to find mutual compatibility. When a student approaches an employer, there’s no need for that initial performance of “here’s why I’m worth your time.” Sure, lots of people are still going to start with that anyway, I didn’t find it to be necessary. I had wonderful experiences leading with curiosity and authenticity – “here’s who I am and what I want; what do you think?”

There were so many instances where I told an employer rep about my passion and vision. My desire to drive more compassionate and humane workplaces that help people grow into the best version of themselves – not simply the best employees, or the best input/output machines. I told them how I want to eventually develop trusted therapeutic and coaching relationships with business leaders to help them navigate the process of examining their privilege, work through the fear of change and attachment to status quo, understand the systems they perpetuate and the harm the systems cause, and build the courage to act boldly and radically.

I told many people this vision, with all the passion that I have for it, and they were literally moved. I felt so heard, seen, and understood. And in so many cases, they told me “You have GOT to talk to so-and-so leader of such-and-such relevant area.” For instance, I walked into Humana’s invite-only evening reception that I hadn’t been invited to, and I ended up being directed toward Chantelle, AVP of Workforce & Culture. Chantelle not only heard me deeply and understood my vision, she immediate started asking me questions and thinking about how we could work together. This interaction was a THRILL (and epitomizes the idea of networking working as it should, where you land on a connection that really fits).

This experience with Humana, and others like it, also really drove home how powerful it can be to have access to these sorts of spaces. Spaces where you are pre-vetted and pre-trusted, and the people in the room have power. These spaces are the elite universities, the country clubs, the private social clubs, and the invite-only conferences. These are the spaces from which people of color, working class folks, and other marginalized people are excluded. And it’s this exclusion that holds these people back in ways that are impossible to even be aware of. This is one of the most sinister parts of privilege: having access to powerful-infused spaces where belonging is presupposed, and opportunities are abundant. I’m extremely glad that Consortium exists to create such spaces for people who are often excluded from other such spaces.

At the same time, I remain cognizant of the ongoing problems of class and in-group/out-group dynamics that characterize all these spaces, regardless of the skin tones in attendance. I know that many Consortium students come from poor, immigrant, marginalized, humble, or otherwise non-elite backgrounds. However, I do wonder how many of these students will maintain their class consciousness and awareness as they rise in their careers. How many are aware of the elite classism of our MBA programs, and groups like CGSM? And I ask myself, as much as anyone, even with awareness, what are we to do about it?

A Note on “Networking”

I’m going to lose the scare quotes from “networking,” because it’s really not scary, and it’s also not as eye-roll-y as many instinctually believe. I see networking (and have written about it) as socializing with openness, receptivity, and creative thinking. There is a cynical conception of networking as goal-oriented socializing, like talking to people for the express purpose of trying to get a job. Can you do that? Sure. Do people to that? All the time. Is this the best way to navigate social networks to find deep alignment, purpose, and authentic connection? Probably not.

At the heart of effective networking is curiosity and vulnerability. It is deep socializing where you are curious about someone else, and you feel inspired to build something with this person. And it is vulnerable, because you need to admit to yourself and your interlocutor that you need help. That you can’t get where you want to go alone. It’s the epitome of interdependence.

I have one classmate who was at OP, Kwasi, who is a dual MD/MBA. He wants to be a doctor and eventually to work in Ghana (where his family is from) helping people with severe injuries. He attended OP, but he wasn’t sure of his place there, since he doesn’t want a job at any of the massive employers there. On the first night, we had a long talk where I encouraged him to network with a open mind, and just see what connections he can make. I was so pleased to see him at Humana’s reception (the same one I attended above – I actually walked into the reception because Kwasi and a few other classmates were already there). He made really satisfying and fulfilling connections with the folks at Humana, including Chantelle. They are planning on continuing to talk! That’s the essence of networking. Open-minded and open-hearted connection with others, with curiosity about what might arise, and creative thinking about what you can create.

Networking at OP

There is a ton of down time built into OP, and thus lots of unstructured time to meet people. Attendees are free to use this time to prepare for interviews, recharge by resting, or use the hotel facilities, but my recommendation is that people take this extremely unique opportunity to connect with peers at other schools in ways that feel comfortable.

I’m still keeping my COVID caution level high (there was at least one confirmed case at the conference!), so I was not going to the bar at night. But I got so much deep satisfaction from many deep and meaningful small-scale connections with students.

At this stage in my life, I’m going to approach most interactions seeking deep authenticity to understand what people are passionate about.

I felt so much satisfaction from digging deep with people to understand who they are as humans, and how they want to help the world be a better place. I found that many incoming MBAs are pursuing jobs because they want a certain work style (like consulting or marketing). That’s great, and that’s where I was in my 20s, which most of these folks are. But my hope is to get my peers asking the deep purpose-driven questions much earlier than I did. I often found myself asking people why they want to be consultants, for example, and urging them to feel empowered to make a real difference sooner rather than later.

OP draws students from top-50 business schools. These are people who are truly going to be extremely influential and powerful in very short order. Yet one part of The Consortium’s mantra of “Be humble” (to which all, somewhat ironically, respond “I am humble!”) means that most of these students are coming into business school uncomfortable admitting or realizing the true power that wield. To be clear, this humility and imposter syndrome exclusively benefits the status quo. CGSM is explicitly about empowering people whose voices are systemically excluded or marginalized. It is not only about creating economic and vocational opportunity for people are often denied opportunity. It is also about creating a felt sense of empowerment and possibility by insisting that marginalized voices not only belong in the halls of power, but are necessary for the next stage of society.

An Unsettling Reality

This brings me to my discomfort at OP, which is reflective of the business world at large. The world is burning – socially, politically, and environmentally. The flames can be seen in India (in an endless heat wave), Uvalde, Hungary, and Ukraine; the hot embers glowing in Ferguson and Minneapolis, Manila and Brasilia; the smoke gently wafting from approaching ecological tipping points[LINK]; and the piles of tinder looming ominously in corporate profits, failing schools, and reactionary political wins the world over.

Through individual conversations at OP and overheard murmurs about “capitalism” or “impact,” it was clear that everyone knows this. And yet it was all hidden away. We all put on our business dress, printed our resumes, and talked confidently about why we want to be consultants. The consultants, for their part, told me with resignation that, at the end of the day, their job is to do what the client wants – there’s only so much they can push clients on questions of social good. There’s talk of incremental change all around, with strong scents of marketing ploys to attract scarce talent.

At the career fair, I had a conversation with a representative from Hershey’s about my concerns with their product. Levels of sugar consumption is a terrible curse on society, and I have major issues with the companies that make massive profits by poisoning people with sugar. I put this in polite terms to the representative, suggesting that they drastically reduce the sugar in their products. I proposed that Hershey’s, Mars, and Nestle get together and agree that sugar is a scourge, and they are going to work to change tastes and making all products 30% less sweet. Her response was only that they respond to consumer demands. She told me people tell them they turn to Kit-Kat when they want an indulgent treat. This illustrated to me a distinct lack of courage to do what’s right, even if it’s hard.

There was a distinct lack of courage, among everyone – myself included. I fantasized about standing up at one or another session and naming the unspoken in the room: that we are all thinking the same thing about this dehumanizing and world-destroying system, and no one will say it. But of course, I didn’t. On a couple occasions, I did pose challenging questions to employers, but nothing terribly scandalizing, and the questions were evaded expertly. I’m extremely grateful to the one student who asked the consulting panel what they were doing to combat the gentrification that consultants are perpetuating. As expected, the question wasn’t answered with any candor or directness. I was told by one student that the way to get the real answers is in one-on-one conversations. Which is exactly the point I’m making: it’s all hush hush. People will talk about it individually, and totally avoid it when it matters. But the problems aren’t individual – they’re systemic. We are all afraid of stirring the pot, for fear of retribution or consequences that harm our personal wellbeing.

That’s where collective action comes in. I wish for an OP one day where all students openly talk to each other about the world’s big problems, and we agree to move and act in solidarity, so that no employer can ignore our demands for radical change without sacrificing top talent.

Maybe this is a pipe dream. But if it is, I’m afraid for what the future holds for all of us. I’d rather hold onto hope, because at least that helps me keep going.

Gratitude

I sat politely at the opening session of the conference, sensing subtle apprehension about being in a large social environment and uncertainty about my role as a white man at a conference for underrepresented minorities. I listened to a speaker telling the audience with pride “You belong here,” while wondering if she was talking to me. I thought about my own experiences of discrimination as a Jewish person, and wondered to what extent that experience actually informs my ability to empathize with the experiences of those around me. I tentatively participated in the call-and-response from CGSM’s CEO, wondering if I needed those reminders as a white man:

Be proud (“I am proud”)

Be humble (“I am humble”)

Be gracious (“I am gracious”)

Be ready (“I am ready”)

Being in that space, I was indeed struck with great humility, honor, and gratitude, that only grew over the subsequent days as numerous interactions with my peers showed me such kindness, respect, and love. I am honored to have been welcomed into a space of empowerment for Black and brown bodies. I am humbled by the wonderful grace so many people showed me in engaging with me with deep kindness, love, curiosity, and appreciation. And I am extremely grateful to everyone who got me to Consortium and created space for me to be there. None of this would have been possible if the folks at WashU’s Olin School of Business hadn’t identified me as a good fit for The Consortium, and if Mikale in admissions hadn’t reached out to me and urged me to apply to The Consortium. I suspect that I may have been overlooked for Consortium if it had been another (larger) school. I don’t know where my Consortium affiliation will lead me in life, but I’m pretty sure this was a critical opportunity for me.