By R.V. Baugus
Heard the saying before from someone who says “this makes me uncomfortable?” Well … good.
Being uncomfortable is not necessarily a bad thing, and that will be brought to light in an interactive 
workshop at VenueConnect led by Jill Schinberg, MFA, Assistant Professor, Arts Administration, University of Kentucky, on the topic of Getting Comfortable with Being Uncomfortable, hosted by the IAVM Diversity and Inclusive Leadership Committee.
If we can admit that none of us happens to be perfect, we are off to a good start. That means none of us. Having discussions today about topics that make us uncomfortable should actually make us feel better if done in constructive fashion.
How do we have those conversations and how do we get there? You need to be at the session, friend!
According to the course description: You are a well-meaning venue professional. You know that unconscious bias training and diversity committees are not enough. You are trying to be conscientious about talking the talk and walking the walk. YES! But, what if you: 1) say or do the “wrong” thing, 2) get “cancelled,” 3) or are perceived as a “Karen (or Ken)?” If any of these fears resonate with you, a co-worker, someone you report to, or your staff –Getting Comfortable with Being Uncomfortable is for you.
It has been an honor to know Jill through the years through the DILC as she has served on the committee of which I am staff liaison. Before her session, and she makes clear that technically she is the only “speaker” but that this will be interactive, we caught up with her for some worthy comments.
First things first: Why is this an important session that people should attend?
It’s important to get comfortable being uncomfortable because we’re human and we are going to make mistakes and as with anything else, we need practice picking ourselves up and trying again. Further, research shows that attending the required diversity training or unconscious bias training at your workplace isn’t enough. This session, based on the work of the DILC, gives us an opportunity to slow down and grapple with our collective and individual discomfort around the constant navigation of identity and its implications on power, access, and privilege.
Now … who should attend? This is a great–and also tricky question. It depends on who you are and where you see yourself on the spectrum of power, access, and privilege. If you know me, you already know that you will be asked to actively engage with the session content and probably with each other. If reading this is your first interaction with me — or especially if it will be your first VenueConnect — I hope that you will consider joining us to check it out. Either way, it’s likely to provoke some deep thinking and rich conversation among peers. Regardless of who you are and why you decide to attend, it’s a great opportunity to try some stuff out with your industry friends and colleagues in a low-risk environment.
How about a little of your background in the area in which you will be presenting?
In 2016 I made an epic career transition from venue manager to university professor. In addition to teaching (which I love), I research nonprofit arts management consulting, programming as an artistic practice, and workplace gender equity in arts and entertainment venues. In particular, my work pertaining to equity extends across intersecting categories including gender, race, ability, age, and then some. Since 2017, I have organized interactive sessions at VenueConnect including The Gender Gap, The Gender Gap Continued, and Exploring Privilege (in collaboration with Jennifer Norris, CVE). I have presented my research in the U.S. and internationally including a recent publication based on the results of the IAVM 2017 Diversity Survey.
On a more personal note, I am very aware of how, when, and where I do and don’t belong. And when I forget, someone will always remind me. Take, for example, the male stagehand who comments on my appearance when I’m the only woman onsite working at an outdoor venue for the first part of a show day. I recognize that his comment may well be intended as a compliment — but, is he also commenting on the appearance of his male colleagues? I am socialized to accept the discomfort that I sometimes feel in a situation like this one. That sense of discomfort signals that I don’t belong — despite the intent. (If as you read this you are thinking to yourself, “I don’t get it.”, ask me to explain in greater depth in Atlanta.) My experiences compel me to try to better understand my friends and colleagues who are different from me due to race, gender identity, ability, and so on when I can, and empathize when I can’t.
Is it better to say or do the “wrong” thing than nothing at all? In other words, can it be a teaching/learning/educating tool?
It depends. Can you handle the outcome either way? I believe that we are all experts of our own bodies and lived experiences. So ask yourself: “If I say the wrong thing to someone I care about, it turns out to be the wrong thing, and they let me know. . . can I take it?” If the answer is yes, simply let people around you know that you’re open to feedback and do your best. When you stumble (and you will), the feedback will help you with future interactions. But, keep in mind that everyone is different, which means one size doesn’t always fit all.
We hear a lot these days about unconscious bias. How would you describe and define it?
I would actually quote Mahzarin Banaji and Anthony Greenwald, the psychologists who coined the term “implicit bias” back in 1995, to provide an answer. Hidden or unconscious biases are:
“. . . bits of knowledge about social groups . . . stored in our brains because we encounter them so frequently in our cultural environments. Once lodged in our minds, hidden biases can influence our behavior toward members of particular social groups, but we remain oblivious to their influence (Banaji and Greenwald 2016, xii).”
How about a major takeaway or two that you would like your audience to go back home with?
I would like for anyone who decides to attend to be clear that they are not my audience at all, but the actors. Getting comfortable with being uncomfortable requires a willingness to get a little vulnerable, take a little risk, and to pick yourself up and give it another go when it doesn’t go quite as you had hoped. Progress is not a one and done kind of learning experience; it’s ongoing and takes commitment.
My hope is that when you go home, you can say to your friends and colleagues who are different from you:
I see you. And for the times when I don’t. . . tell me. I can take it.
And mean it.
