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From Jack's perspective:

I) Analyze the situation. Briefly summarize the scenario, notate situational facts, and describe each person's individual reactions.

II) How do you address Dillon and Hope?

III) How do you address the scenario within the entire company?

IV) Now, focus on the resolution. How do you reduce the likelihood of this reoccurring? Where should you focus your attention to be able to provide a solution? How will you resolve the formal and informal issues within the organization?

It Wasn't About Race. Or Was It? by Jeffrey C. Connor Jack Parsons put the phone back on its cradle won't work in a racist environment! and pressed his fingers to his temples. This The last call had been equally charged but wasn't his first crisis as managing partner of on a different tack. The caller was a female the Northeast office of Fuller Fenton, a na partner whom Jack had known for years. "This tional accounting firm, but it was a doozy. That had nothing to do with race. Nothing at all!" was his nth phone call about what had hap- she practically shouted. "If a woman can't feel pened the day before between Hope Barrows safe in the parking lot of her own company, and Dillon Johnson, two hard-working, valu- that's pretty sad." able members of the firm. And he was certain The story was really quite simple-the basic that the deluge was just beginning. Each caller facts weren't in dispute. Hope, a partner at had been very upset, and it was painfully clear Fuller Fenton, had gone to the office Sunday af- that no one was willing to back down. The ternoon to get a jump on the workweek, as she Jack Parsons put the phone back on its cradle won't work in a racist environment!" and pressed his fingers to his temples. This The last call had been equally charged but wasn't his first crisis as managing partner of on a different tack. The caller was a female the Northeast office of Fuller Fenton, a na partner whom Jack had known for years. "This tional accounting firm, but it was a doozy. That had nothing to do with race. Nothing at all!" was his nith phone call about what had hap- she practically shouted. "If a woman can't feel pened the day before between Hope Barrows safe in the parking lot of her own company, and Dillon Johnson, two hard-working, valu- that's pretty sad." able members of the firm. And he was certain The story was really quite simplethe basic that the deluge was just beginning. Each caller facts weren't in dispute. Hope, a partner at had been very upset, and it was painfully clear Fuller Fenton, had gone to the office Sunday af- that no one was willing to back down. The ternoon to get a jump on the workweek, as she firm--or at least all the people under Jack's often did. When she arrived at the parking ga- purview-seemed to be splitting into two rage, she swiped her access card and the exte- angry camps. rior door opened. As she drove up to the inner He thought back to the first phone call he'd gate--the usual point of security during busi- received, at 7:30 that morning, from an associ- ness hours, when the garage door was open- ate who had talked to Dillon the night before. Dillon pulled in under the exterior door as it "I always suspected this was a racist organiza- was closing. Hope stopped at the gate and, in- tion masquerading as a 'good company," the stead of swiping her card, got out of her car and caller railed at him. "I'm sick about this, and walked over to Dillon. She asked who he was I'm telling you, so are a lot of other people. We and whether he belonged in the building. Dil- HBR's cases, which are fictional, present common managerial dilemmas. 601 lon told her he was an associate at Fuller Fen- ton. Hope asked to see his identification, and he showed her his card. Hope thanked him, went back to her car, and entered the garage. Hope was white. Dillon was black. Somehow the incident, as small as it seemed, had started a storm that was threatening to tear the com- pany in two And it was only Monday afternoon. It cer- tainly hadn't taken long for things to heat up. Jack pressed his fingers harder into his temples and let out a small groan. Dillon had been on the phone to him from San Francisco at 5 AM Pacific time. He had flown there the night be- fore to meet with a client. He'd been up most of the night. He was angry-appalled. He said the incident, as far as he was concerned, was an indication that the firm was racially biased. Judging from the calls Jack had received, most of the firm's African-American partners and as- sociates agreed. Jack had asked Dillon to tell him exactly what happened. Dillon said he was working out at his health club when he got a call on his cell phone from a fellow associate, Shaun Daniels. The two had planned to meet at the office later that afternoon to review the file for Dillon's San Francisco client. Shaun asked if they could push up their meeting because he had to be somewhere at 4 PM. Dillon was grate- ful Shaun had agreed to meet with him on a Sunday, and he knew they had several hours of work to get through, so he rushed from the gym and drove to the office. cause I was some sort of criminal. I'm black; she's white. Most people at the company are white. Case closed, in her mind." "What happened next?" Jack prompted. "I told her my name," Dillon said. "I found my wallet and showed her my identification. But Jack, I have to tell you, at that moment, all I could think was that this wasn't the first time I'd been made to feel like an outsider at this company because I'm black. When I signed on, I heard a lot of talk about how Fuller Fenton was reinventing itself as an incredibly diverse, versatile organization. But my experience tells a different story. "My first week here, one of the administra- tive assistants saw the wedding photo I have on my desk. She looked really surprised, and then she said, "Your wife is very light skinned.' "I laughed and said something like, 'Amy is white. But the look I got? It was disapprov- ing, almost like she was disgusted." Dillon's voice trailed off. Then he said, "I know I could cut her some slack. She's one of the older as- sistants, and she's been here a long time. But it stung. She hasn't talked to me directly since." He was quiet for another moment. Jack waited. "That was the smallest incident," Dil- lon said. "After four months here, remember I was going to be on the team for that con- sumer goods company in Texas? I was put on and taken off within 48 hours. I found out- actually just last night, when I was venting to a colleague about this incident--that the sociates agreed. Jack had asked Dillon to tell him exactly what happened. Dillon said he was working out at his health club when he got a call on his cell phone from a fellow associate, Shaun Daniels. The two had planned to meet at the office later that afternoon to review the file for Dillon's San Francisco client. Shaun asked if they could push up their meeting because he had to be somewhere at 4 PM. Dillon was grate- ful Shaun had agreed to meet with him on a Sunday, and he knew they had several hours of work to get through, so he rushed from the gym and drove to the office. He pulled into the driveway of Fuller Fen- ton's garage behind a red Volvo. The car just seemed to be parked at the door. "I remember thinking, 'What's taking this person so long to swipe their card?" he told Jack. "Then I thought, 'Where's my card?' and I started look- ing through the pile of clothes on the passen- ger seat for my wallet. "Then the door opened, the Volvo went through, and I didn't even think; I just fol- lowed, Dillon continued. "Then the car stopped again. I thought, 'What is this?' and I tried to see who was in the car. I could see it was a woman, and she was looking at me in her rearview mirror. So I waved. And waited. "She gets out of her car, comes over to me, and asks me if I work in the building. I say yes, and she asks me for my identification. I recog. nized her, you know-didn't know her name, but I'd seen her in the building. e confuead I didn't know what the ing, almost like she was disgusted." Dulon's voice trailed off. Then he said, I know I could cut her some slack. She's one of the older as- sistants, and she's been here a long time. But it stung. She hasn't talked to me directly since." He was quiet for another moment. Jack waited. "That was the smallest incident," Dil- lon said. "After four months here, remember I was going to be on the team for that con- sumer goods company in Texas? I was put on and taken off within 48 hours. I found out- actually just last night, when I was venting to a colleague about this incidentthat the partner heading the team was worried a black face would put the client off. Jack shook his head; of course, Dillon couldn't see him, but he answered as if he had. "Jack, I know it's true. And maybe the guy had a point--that client is a very old-line kind of company. But still, if this company is serious about diversity, is that any way to behave? That's not the kind of company I thought I was joining. And it's certainly not the kind of com- pany I'm going to keep working for." Jack knew the last story was correct. In fact, he'd argued with the partner about the way Dillon was treated. And he'd hoped, at the time, that it would be just one of those things and that he could work to prevent it from hap- pening again. "I called four or five colleagues last night," Dillon continued. "I asked them if I was imag- ining this. They all said no. This time it can't just he water under the bridge. Jack." SICC. Daniels. The two had planned to meet at the office later that afternoon to review the file for Dillon's San Francisco client. Shaun asked if they could push up their meeting because he had to be somewhere at 4 pm. Dillon was grate- ful Shaun had agreed to meet with him on a Sunday, and he knew they had several hours of work to get through, so he rushed from the gym and drove to the office. He pulled into the driveway of Fuller Fen- ton's garage behind a red Volvo. The car just seemed to be parked at the door. "I remember thinking, 'What's taking this person so long to swipe their card?" he told Jack. "Then I thought, "Where's my card?' and I started look- ing through the pile of clothes on the passen- ger seat for my wallet. "Then the door opened, the Volvo went through, and I didn't even think; I just fol- lowed," Dillon continued. "Then the car stopped again. I thought, 'What is this?" and I tried to see who was in the car. I could see it was a woman, and she was looking at me in her rearview mirror. So I waved. And waited. "She gets out of her car, comes over to me, and asks me if I work in the building. I say yes, and she asks me for my identification. I recog. nized her, you know-didn't know her name, but I'd seen her in the building, "I was confused. I didn't know what the problem was. Then I realized that she thought I had slipped through the door behind her be He was quiet for another moment. Jack waited. "That was the smallest incident," Dil- lon said. "After four months here, remember I was going to be on the team for that con- sumer goods company in Texas? I was put on and taken off within 48 hours. I found out- actually just last night, when I was venting to a colleague about this incident-that the partner heading the team was worried a black face would put the client off. Jack shook his head; of course, Dillon couldn't see him, but he answered as if he had. Jack, I know it's true. And maybe the guy had a point--that client is a very old-line kind of company. But still, if this company is serious about diversity, is that any way to behave? That's not the kind of company I thought I was joining. And it's certainly not the kind of com- pany I'm going to keep working for." Jack knew the last story was correct. In fact, he'd argued with the partner about the way Dillon was treated. And he'd hoped, at the time, that it would be just one of those things and that he could work to prevent it from hap- pening again. "I called four or five colleagues last night," Dillon continued. "I asked them if I was imag. ining this. They all said no. This time it can't just be water under the bridge, Jack." Jack reassured Dillon as best he could. He told Dillon he was a valued employee and that 602 - + Fit to page Page he'd do some digging, that they would all work now, when I started coming in here on Sun- to resolve the situation. As soon as he hung up days. He asked me if I was sure that it was safe the phone, he called Hope and left a message to come in when the building was deserted. He asking her to come see him. asked me to carry my cell phone at all times." "I tried to call you earlier," Hope said when Hope paused, then continued, smiling. "I she entered Jack's office. "I've heard a lot of laughed at my husband when he said that," rumors going around about what happened she said. "He grew up in Manhattan." Her yesterday, and I have to tell you, I'm smile faded. "I did have my cell phone in my shocked-totally shocked. I didn't ask for Dil hand when I got out of the car," she said. "I Jon Johnson's identification because he was had punched in 911, and my finger was on the black. I asked for it because I was freaked out send button. that a man was following me into the garage I didn't recognize him," she said again. I a man who didn't seem to have an access card didn't recognize his car. He was wearing a T- of his own. shirt. Not that that matters, really. No one "I was only concerned for my own safety," dresses up here on Sundays. Still, no one usu- she said. "He could have been white, or purple, ally wears T-shirts, either. I did feel a little silly, for all I cared. I thought there was a good at one point, before I got out of the car. I chance I was going to be robbed. Or raped. mean, I was telling myself that whoever it was Asking for his identification was the fair thing was just coming in to work and had been too to do." lazy to get out his card. But scared overruled Hope took a deep breath and told Jack the silly. story from the beginning. She often came into "And in no wayno way-was I acting out the office on Sundays, she explained. She liked of any racial prejudice. Come on, Jack, this guy the quiet; she got a lot done. She knew that at has some personal chip on his shoulder, and least a few other people felt the same way. Oc he's putting all his baggage on me. I was casionally she would see other cars in the lot, scared, for God's sake." and sometimes she would see people coming Jack listened and, at the end of the meeting, or going told Hope he would think about what to do. It But she didn't recognize Dillon's car, and was clear, he said, that she and Dillon should she didn't recognize Dillon. "What was he sit down in the same room to discuss the issue. thinking, Jack?" she asked, indignant. I'm not He would set up the meeting and get back to the one who was insensitive here. Dillon her. Meanwhile, he told her, he did see her Johnson was insensitive to me by 'piggyback point. Not to worry about that ing behind me when I opened the garage For the rest of the morning and early after- Fit to page casionally she would see other cars in the lot, and sometimes she would see people coming or going But she didn't recognize Dillon's car, and she didn't recognize Dillon. "What was he thinking, Jack?" she asked, indignant. "I'm not the one who was insensitive here. Dillon Johnson was insensitive to me by 'piggyback- ing behind me when I opened the garage door. Didn't he know that any woman would feel vulnerable, and potentially threatened, if any man-or anybody, truth be told-evaded security measures to follow her into a deserted garage? Why didn't he just wait the extra 15 seconds and use his own card?" "You know, I really never should have got- ten out of my car," she chided herself. "I should have just called security. But I was thinking, 'Better to confront him now than to put myself in possible jeopardy deep in the ga- rage with no one else around.' "To be honest with you, I was also thinking about two of my friends who have been mugged. One in a parking garage, the other on a subway platform. Neither was hurt. Well, my friend Alice strained her back trying to twist away from the subway mugger, but she got off easy, considering. And I was thinking about what my husband said to me, two years ago + ID PO scared, for God's sake. Jack listened and, at the end of the meeting, told Hope he would think about what to do. It was clear, he said, that she and Dillon should sit down in the same room to discuss the issue. He would set up the meeting and get back to her. Meanwhile, he told her, he did see her point. Not to worry about that For the rest of the morning and early after- noon, Jack fielded angry calls He also called the human resources department and set up a meeting with Hope, Dillon, himself, and the regional HR director for Wednesday morning at 10, as soon as Dillon returned from San Francisco. He just hoped he could hold things together until then. He would, of course, continue to field calls and try to calm people down as best he could. But what else could he do? For that matter, what was he going to do at the meeting? What is Jack's next step? Reprint R00513 To order, call 800-988-0886 or 617-783-7500 or go to www.hbr.org It Wasn't About Race. Or Was It? by Jeffrey C. Connor Jack Parsons put the phone back on its cradle won't work in a racist environment! and pressed his fingers to his temples. This The last call had been equally charged but wasn't his first crisis as managing partner of on a different tack. The caller was a female the Northeast office of Fuller Fenton, a na partner whom Jack had known for years. "This tional accounting firm, but it was a doozy. That had nothing to do with race. Nothing at all!" was his nth phone call about what had hap- she practically shouted. "If a woman can't feel pened the day before between Hope Barrows safe in the parking lot of her own company, and Dillon Johnson, two hard-working, valu- that's pretty sad." able members of the firm. And he was certain The story was really quite simple-the basic that the deluge was just beginning. Each caller facts weren't in dispute. Hope, a partner at had been very upset, and it was painfully clear Fuller Fenton, had gone to the office Sunday af- that no one was willing to back down. The ternoon to get a jump on the workweek, as she Jack Parsons put the phone back on its cradle won't work in a racist environment!" and pressed his fingers to his temples. This The last call had been equally charged but wasn't his first crisis as managing partner of on a different tack. The caller was a female the Northeast office of Fuller Fenton, a na partner whom Jack had known for years. "This tional accounting firm, but it was a doozy. That had nothing to do with race. Nothing at all!" was his nith phone call about what had hap- she practically shouted. "If a woman can't feel pened the day before between Hope Barrows safe in the parking lot of her own company, and Dillon Johnson, two hard-working, valu- that's pretty sad." able members of the firm. And he was certain The story was really quite simplethe basic that the deluge was just beginning. Each caller facts weren't in dispute. Hope, a partner at had been very upset, and it was painfully clear Fuller Fenton, had gone to the office Sunday af- that no one was willing to back down. The ternoon to get a jump on the workweek, as she firm--or at least all the people under Jack's often did. When she arrived at the parking ga- purview-seemed to be splitting into two rage, she swiped her access card and the exte- angry camps. rior door opened. As she drove up to the inner He thought back to the first phone call he'd gate--the usual point of security during busi- received, at 7:30 that morning, from an associ- ness hours, when the garage door was open- ate who had talked to Dillon the night before. Dillon pulled in under the exterior door as it "I always suspected this was a racist organiza- was closing. Hope stopped at the gate and, in- tion masquerading as a 'good company," the stead of swiping her card, got out of her car and caller railed at him. "I'm sick about this, and walked over to Dillon. She asked who he was I'm telling you, so are a lot of other people. We and whether he belonged in the building. Dil- HBR's cases, which are fictional, present common managerial dilemmas. 601 lon told her he was an associate at Fuller Fen- ton. Hope asked to see his identification, and he showed her his card. Hope thanked him, went back to her car, and entered the garage. Hope was white. Dillon was black. Somehow the incident, as small as it seemed, had started a storm that was threatening to tear the com- pany in two And it was only Monday afternoon. It cer- tainly hadn't taken long for things to heat up. Jack pressed his fingers harder into his temples and let out a small groan. Dillon had been on the phone to him from San Francisco at 5 AM Pacific time. He had flown there the night be- fore to meet with a client. He'd been up most of the night. He was angry-appalled. He said the incident, as far as he was concerned, was an indication that the firm was racially biased. Judging from the calls Jack had received, most of the firm's African-American partners and as- sociates agreed. Jack had asked Dillon to tell him exactly what happened. Dillon said he was working out at his health club when he got a call on his cell phone from a fellow associate, Shaun Daniels. The two had planned to meet at the office later that afternoon to review the file for Dillon's San Francisco client. Shaun asked if they could push up their meeting because he had to be somewhere at 4 PM. Dillon was grate- ful Shaun had agreed to meet with him on a Sunday, and he knew they had several hours of work to get through, so he rushed from the gym and drove to the office. cause I was some sort of criminal. I'm black; she's white. Most people at the company are white. Case closed, in her mind." "What happened next?" Jack prompted. "I told her my name," Dillon said. "I found my wallet and showed her my identification. But Jack, I have to tell you, at that moment, all I could think was that this wasn't the first time I'd been made to feel like an outsider at this company because I'm black. When I signed on, I heard a lot of talk about how Fuller Fenton was reinventing itself as an incredibly diverse, versatile organization. But my experience tells a different story. "My first week here, one of the administra- tive assistants saw the wedding photo I have on my desk. She looked really surprised, and then she said, "Your wife is very light skinned.' "I laughed and said something like, 'Amy is white. But the look I got? It was disapprov- ing, almost like she was disgusted." Dillon's voice trailed off. Then he said, "I know I could cut her some slack. She's one of the older as- sistants, and she's been here a long time. But it stung. She hasn't talked to me directly since." He was quiet for another moment. Jack waited. "That was the smallest incident," Dil- lon said. "After four months here, remember I was going to be on the team for that con- sumer goods company in Texas? I was put on and taken off within 48 hours. I found out- actually just last night, when I was venting to a colleague about this incident--that the sociates agreed. Jack had asked Dillon to tell him exactly what happened. Dillon said he was working out at his health club when he got a call on his cell phone from a fellow associate, Shaun Daniels. The two had planned to meet at the office later that afternoon to review the file for Dillon's San Francisco client. Shaun asked if they could push up their meeting because he had to be somewhere at 4 PM. Dillon was grate- ful Shaun had agreed to meet with him on a Sunday, and he knew they had several hours of work to get through, so he rushed from the gym and drove to the office. He pulled into the driveway of Fuller Fen- ton's garage behind a red Volvo. The car just seemed to be parked at the door. "I remember thinking, 'What's taking this person so long to swipe their card?" he told Jack. "Then I thought, 'Where's my card?' and I started look- ing through the pile of clothes on the passen- ger seat for my wallet. "Then the door opened, the Volvo went through, and I didn't even think; I just fol- lowed, Dillon continued. "Then the car stopped again. I thought, 'What is this?' and I tried to see who was in the car. I could see it was a woman, and she was looking at me in her rearview mirror. So I waved. And waited. "She gets out of her car, comes over to me, and asks me if I work in the building. I say yes, and she asks me for my identification. I recog. nized her, you know-didn't know her name, but I'd seen her in the building. e confuead I didn't know what the ing, almost like she was disgusted." Dulon's voice trailed off. Then he said, I know I could cut her some slack. She's one of the older as- sistants, and she's been here a long time. But it stung. She hasn't talked to me directly since." He was quiet for another moment. Jack waited. "That was the smallest incident," Dil- lon said. "After four months here, remember I was going to be on the team for that con- sumer goods company in Texas? I was put on and taken off within 48 hours. I found out- actually just last night, when I was venting to a colleague about this incidentthat the partner heading the team was worried a black face would put the client off. Jack shook his head; of course, Dillon couldn't see him, but he answered as if he had. "Jack, I know it's true. And maybe the guy had a point--that client is a very old-line kind of company. But still, if this company is serious about diversity, is that any way to behave? That's not the kind of company I thought I was joining. And it's certainly not the kind of com- pany I'm going to keep working for." Jack knew the last story was correct. In fact, he'd argued with the partner about the way Dillon was treated. And he'd hoped, at the time, that it would be just one of those things and that he could work to prevent it from hap- pening again. "I called four or five colleagues last night," Dillon continued. "I asked them if I was imag- ining this. They all said no. This time it can't just he water under the bridge. Jack." SICC. Daniels. The two had planned to meet at the office later that afternoon to review the file for Dillon's San Francisco client. Shaun asked if they could push up their meeting because he had to be somewhere at 4 pm. Dillon was grate- ful Shaun had agreed to meet with him on a Sunday, and he knew they had several hours of work to get through, so he rushed from the gym and drove to the office. He pulled into the driveway of Fuller Fen- ton's garage behind a red Volvo. The car just seemed to be parked at the door. "I remember thinking, 'What's taking this person so long to swipe their card?" he told Jack. "Then I thought, "Where's my card?' and I started look- ing through the pile of clothes on the passen- ger seat for my wallet. "Then the door opened, the Volvo went through, and I didn't even think; I just fol- lowed," Dillon continued. "Then the car stopped again. I thought, 'What is this?" and I tried to see who was in the car. I could see it was a woman, and she was looking at me in her rearview mirror. So I waved. And waited. "She gets out of her car, comes over to me, and asks me if I work in the building. I say yes, and she asks me for my identification. I recog. nized her, you know-didn't know her name, but I'd seen her in the building, "I was confused. I didn't know what the problem was. Then I realized that she thought I had slipped through the door behind her be He was quiet for another moment. Jack waited. "That was the smallest incident," Dil- lon said. "After four months here, remember I was going to be on the team for that con- sumer goods company in Texas? I was put on and taken off within 48 hours. I found out- actually just last night, when I was venting to a colleague about this incident-that the partner heading the team was worried a black face would put the client off. Jack shook his head; of course, Dillon couldn't see him, but he answered as if he had. Jack, I know it's true. And maybe the guy had a point--that client is a very old-line kind of company. But still, if this company is serious about diversity, is that any way to behave? That's not the kind of company I thought I was joining. And it's certainly not the kind of com- pany I'm going to keep working for." Jack knew the last story was correct. In fact, he'd argued with the partner about the way Dillon was treated. And he'd hoped, at the time, that it would be just one of those things and that he could work to prevent it from hap- pening again. "I called four or five colleagues last night," Dillon continued. "I asked them if I was imag. ining this. They all said no. This time it can't just be water under the bridge, Jack." Jack reassured Dillon as best he could. He told Dillon he was a valued employee and that 602 - + Fit to page Page he'd do some digging, that they would all work now, when I started coming in here on Sun- to resolve the situation. As soon as he hung up days. He asked me if I was sure that it was safe the phone, he called Hope and left a message to come in when the building was deserted. He asking her to come see him. asked me to carry my cell phone at all times." "I tried to call you earlier," Hope said when Hope paused, then continued, smiling. "I she entered Jack's office. "I've heard a lot of laughed at my husband when he said that," rumors going around about what happened she said. "He grew up in Manhattan." Her yesterday, and I have to tell you, I'm smile faded. "I did have my cell phone in my shocked-totally shocked. I didn't ask for Dil hand when I got out of the car," she said. "I Jon Johnson's identification because he was had punched in 911, and my finger was on the black. I asked for it because I was freaked out send button. that a man was following me into the garage I didn't recognize him," she said again. I a man who didn't seem to have an access card didn't recognize his car. He was wearing a T- of his own. shirt. Not that that matters, really. No one "I was only concerned for my own safety," dresses up here on Sundays. Still, no one usu- she said. "He could have been white, or purple, ally wears T-shirts, either. I did feel a little silly, for all I cared. I thought there was a good at one point, before I got out of the car. I chance I was going to be robbed. Or raped. mean, I was telling myself that whoever it was Asking for his identification was the fair thing was just coming in to work and had been too to do." lazy to get out his card. But scared overruled Hope took a deep breath and told Jack the silly. story from the beginning. She often came into "And in no wayno way-was I acting out the office on Sundays, she explained. She liked of any racial prejudice. Come on, Jack, this guy the quiet; she got a lot done. She knew that at has some personal chip on his shoulder, and least a few other people felt the same way. Oc he's putting all his baggage on me. I was casionally she would see other cars in the lot, scared, for God's sake." and sometimes she would see people coming Jack listened and, at the end of the meeting, or going told Hope he would think about what to do. It But she didn't recognize Dillon's car, and was clear, he said, that she and Dillon should she didn't recognize Dillon. "What was he sit down in the same room to discuss the issue. thinking, Jack?" she asked, indignant. I'm not He would set up the meeting and get back to the one who was insensitive here. Dillon her. Meanwhile, he told her, he did see her Johnson was insensitive to me by 'piggyback point. Not to worry about that ing behind me when I opened the garage For the rest of the morning and early after- Fit to page casionally she would see other cars in the lot, and sometimes she would see people coming or going But she didn't recognize Dillon's car, and she didn't recognize Dillon. "What was he thinking, Jack?" she asked, indignant. "I'm not the one who was insensitive here. Dillon Johnson was insensitive to me by 'piggyback- ing behind me when I opened the garage door. Didn't he know that any woman would feel vulnerable, and potentially threatened, if any man-or anybody, truth be told-evaded security measures to follow her into a deserted garage? Why didn't he just wait the extra 15 seconds and use his own card?" "You know, I really never should have got- ten out of my car," she chided herself. "I should have just called security. But I was thinking, 'Better to confront him now than to put myself in possible jeopardy deep in the ga- rage with no one else around.' "To be honest with you, I was also thinking about two of my friends who have been mugged. One in a parking garage, the other on a subway platform. Neither was hurt. Well, my friend Alice strained her back trying to twist away from the subway mugger, but she got off easy, considering. And I was thinking about what my husband said to me, two years ago + ID PO scared, for God's sake. Jack listened and, at the end of the meeting, told Hope he would think about what to do. It was clear, he said, that she and Dillon should sit down in the same room to discuss the issue. He would set up the meeting and get back to her. Meanwhile, he told her, he did see her point. Not to worry about that For the rest of the morning and early after- noon, Jack fielded angry calls He also called the human resources department and set up a meeting with Hope, Dillon, himself, and the regional HR director for Wednesday morning at 10, as soon as Dillon returned from San Francisco. He just hoped he could hold things together until then. He would, of course, continue to field calls and try to calm people down as best he could. But what else could he do? For that matter, what was he going to do at the meeting? What is Jack's next step? Reprint R00513 To order, call 800-988-0886 or 617-783-7500 or go to www.hbr.org

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