A Seat at the Table - Are organizations gatekeeping the gatekeepers?

Ana Masacote sits on bench on Commonwealth Ave. Photo by Enrique Yaptenco.

Ana Masacote sits on bench on Commonwealth Ave. Photo by Enrique Yaptenco.

It feels like a lifetime ago when people were posting black squares on their social media channels and businesses began hastily releasing BLM statements followed by their Diversity, Equity and Inclusion policies. The nationwide protests on racial injustice that erupted in 2020, undaunted by the global pandemic, could not be ignored and compelled individuals and businesses alike to face the inequity in our society. While some organizations like Ben & Jerry’s became the model upon which other organizations would aspire to emulate, others proved to be a blueprint of what not to do, highlighting the insincerity of an already visibly inequitable system.

Take Boston Pride, for example, an organization dedicated to inclusivity and progressive change, whose board released a statement that seemed more of a press release for its anniversary event than a stance of solidarity with communities of color. Not once, in its 434 word document, did they include the three word statement “Black Lives Matter,” instead choosing to market its trademark phrase “Wicked Proud,” leading to a community uproar, an apology from the board, and a promise that board members would undertake diversity training. There is a serious problem when an organization whose mission is to provide an inclusive space for diverse communities must be called upon to undergo training on how to be inclusive.

At the time, Boston Pride’s board was mostly white and no members were willing to listen to public demands for them to step down. The result? The further entrenchment of board members and a board still without meaningful diversity. As no other progressive organizations were willing to release statements against Boston Pride’s board or cut its funding, the BIPOC community decided to boycott the organization, an action antithetical to Boston Pride’s vision statement of promoting “community engagement and inclusivity.”

So what does inclusivity look like if those who are supposed to be committed to it are also falling short?

At a time when the terms diversity and equity have become the buzzwords in corporate America, it is no wonder communities of color see them as lip service. In recent years, while we have seen an uptick in drive for increased board diversity, there is still a long way to go. In 2020, women aged 16 and over held only 28% of the S&P 500 board seats1, despite representing 47% of the total labor workforce.2 Furthermore, only 20% of directors in the top 200 companies are minority executives1.

What corporations fail to realize is that you cannot just host panels on Black history in February. You cannot just march in the Pride parade in June. You cannot just host a salsa party on Latinx Heritage Month.

DE&I work is not a strategy you find in a step by step recipe book and must not be reduced to an annual training or workshop. It is a consistent commitment to analyzing the very cultural fabric organizations are built upon. It is about changing the systems and oversight that preserve power and keep organizations from being equitable. It is about bringing in individuals who reflect the communities that organizations serve and represent.

Following the misogyny of the 2016 election, I began to wonder what it meant to have a seat at the table. I had been invested in community work for years, but serving on a board had never crossed my mind. Boards were for people with lots of money and experience, weren’t they? Who would want to hear from an artist like me?

After attending a talk about the lack of representation of Latinos holding board seats, I began to question this assumption. So when I heard an organization I wanted to support was looking for board members, I expressed my interest in joining. I was politely dismissed. I was told they were looking for people in high positions of power, politically or financially - I had neither. Soon after, I was rejected by another organization in much the same fashion. I couldn’t help but feel that in trying to create advisory boards to lead their organizations, these boards had left out the voice of their own community.

Are organizations gatekeeping the gatekeepers under the guise of inclusion?

At this point, I thought maybe what I needed was education on the governance of boards. I applied for a fellowship designed to train Latinos to serve on boards, but in order to apply, I had to commit to attending a monthly bootcamp session over six months, without missing a single one.

As a working, traveling artist, that was a difficult ask, but I realized I could make all but one work. I contacted the organization seeking an alternative solution. Could I possibly zoom into the meeting (this was pre-pandemic, before people had gotten used to the idea of hybrid or virtual programming) or ask someone to take notes for me? I would do all the work necessary to make sure I was caught up before the next session, I explained, but they quickly declined the possibility of this request, leaving me wondering whether they realized the irony that in building a company to break down barriers to entry, they had developed barriers of their own. So what does inclusivity look like if those who are supposed to be committed to it are also falling short?

We talk about having a seat at the table, but most of us can’t even get a foot in the door. This then raises the question: are organizations gatekeeping the gatekeepers under the guise of inclusion?

NASDAQ’s newly proposed board diversity rules, announced in December 2020, would require boards to have at least two members serving on their boards who are “diverse,” as defined in their rules, or, if not, to publicly disclose why they fail to meet this requirement3. While this may be a start, when the average board of S&P 500 companies consists of eleven people, having only two women or BIPOC members will still leave them far outnumbered and without a meaningful voice. This rule will simply amount to another diversity box to check under the performative guise of enacting change.

Moreover, if these few “diverse” board members were selected through an already inequitable process, then are they really representing the diverse voices of the community they are meant to serve? How do we broaden the scope of included voices and think outside the box of what we see as diverse? Should this not also include essential workers, artists, youth, people with disabilities?

Once you get to the table, do you now ascend from prey to hunter?

There’s a cliché I hear frequently in presentations on diversity. Often from the very organizations advocating for diversity. “If you’re not at the table, you’re on the menu.” I wish people would stop saying this, as it diminishes a real problem down to a catchy phrase that then leads to a bigger issue: once you get to the table, do you now ascend from prey to hunter?

Call me naive, but I don’t think boards are out there to get us. The purpose of a board is to drive the strategic direction and work of an organization, while ensuring that ethical practices are followed. When diverse voices are left out of this visioning, their communities are not up for consumption as much as they are at risk of being forgotten, cast aside, and often harmed by the organization’s actions. This exclusion leads to larger systemic issues that inevitably require boards to respond to the inequitable impact they’ve helped cement. Hello public statements and task forces.

In a world where problems lead to solutions, and those solutions lead to more problems, we must confront the fact that we rarely stop to ask what has contributed to these problems in the first place. Worse yet, we don’t listen enough with a desire to learn and engage when others try to articulate the issues. And yes, the onus also falls on organizations championing diversity who themselves don’t commit to having diversity on their boards. What diverse voices are necessary for the betterment of the ecosystem your organization impacts, they may ask? How about starting with the voices of your own community?

Until then, we’ll keep putting out statements of words and not substance. Believe me, the community already knew where you stood before you released the statement.



Ana Masacote is an award-winning Afro-Latin dance specialist and arts leader who passionately believes that through dance, we can facilitate social change within communities. She has spread the salsa bug to more than 30 countries across five continents as founder of Dance to Power, an online Afro-Latin dance academy, and former partner of internationally-renowned Masacote Entertainment. Through her social impact initiatives, Ana advocates for gender and LGBTQ inclusivity and racial equity in the arts.