It’s on you.
I’ve been thinking for a long time on where the boundary lies between personal responsibility and corporate responsibility.
I pride myself on being responsible, putting in the work, and setting high expectations. If you work hard, the sacrifice should pay off, right?
Well, that used to work for me, but later on I realized that all my effort was not enough.
At what point is personal responsibility not enough? At what point are institutions and organizations responsible for building better systems, structures, and policies?
This is where I’m at right now. To what extent can we expect people to work harder, and when is it the organization's turn to provide the guidance, training, and support to help people succeed? How can we be mindful of approaches that don’t work for everyone, and how do we identify groups and individuals that require a different approach?
At what point is working hard not enough? At what point does personal responsibility meet corporate responsibility or institutional responsibility?
At what point do you need additional support?
Is it ethical for a professor or employer to recommend mental health services? Or should training and supportive mentorship be enough? I don’t know.
Here’s a personal example:
When I was in grad school I got passed over to teach in my field (Latin American Studies), more than once. None of my professors explained why, and I was too embarrassed to ask.
Problem is, my stipend was contingent on teaching, so I would be out $6k. I was able to hustle and find other professors to work with, outside of my field. But I still needed experience in my field and kept getting passed over. After 3 years of this, I had enough.
One day I finally blew up at my committee and asked why I had been turned down year after year.
A professor candidly explained that initially it was because they thought I was “clinically depressed.”
Creator: aldomurillo
Copyright: Aldo Murillo
(Wow. For three years? Really?)
So they thought it would be better for me to focus on my coursework. Even though I counted on that money.
I was shocked at his revelation. And pretty mad too. I mean, if that was the case, why didn’t they say something? Jesus Christ. How about helping me if they really believed that?
I wasn’t depressed. (At least not then.)
I was struggling. I lacked guidance. And I obviously didn’t trust them to ask for help. And they didn’t offer any, either.
I didn’t know about depression back then.
I was just stressed about school and felt like I wasn’t good enough. After my first semester, when I got my first paper back, full or red ink in revisions, I seriously hoped they would kick me out and spare us both the misery and embarrassment at what had obviously been a mistake in ever admitting me.
It made me think: Wow. Why didn’t you say something, or reach out?
I didn’t learn about depression until my last year, when I went on antidepressants.
Were they just waiting for me to flunk out or give up? At what cost? Dude. How cold.
But I get it. People have lives. So here is the lesson:
It’s your responsibility to save yourself, no one is looking out for you
But should they? Should they build better programs that are more inclusive? Should they point you to resources you don’t know exist? Is it their place? Can you do so without shaming people or stigmatizing them? Is it unprofessional?
Does this mean their current programs need to be more inclusive of people from different backgrounds? Including people who are too afraid to ask for help?
Should schools or employers develop training programs that prepare students or employees to succeed at their program/job? Should this be a requirement of diversity programs that aim to attract and retain talent from underserved groups?
I think so. Everybody wins.
But until that happens, just know that it's up to you to ask what's up, ask for transparency, and find the courage to do so.
That is the expectation, so it's best to look for the resources to advocate for yourself.
Hope I can help share some of this knowledge. It woulda been awesome to know some of this back then.