Two weeks ago I was standing around with a couple of subcontractors, the prime contractor had decided to just not show up that day. Technically, he should have been there and he hadn’t informed me he would be gone, but I also didn’t care to be wasting some additional time on site, chatting with the company foremen and presidents. We had finished discussing the job tasks and somehow the topic changed to every white man in this industries favorite thing to say, which is that everyone is too sensitive these days. One of the guys there was a technician but it’s his comment specifically that is still in my head, “It’s like no one can just laugh at themselves anymore.”
Early last week, I was showing color samples to one of the supervisors, he had to pick the color of the new bathrooms at a warehouse we were refurbishing. I’d quickly picked up the habit not to email the non-engineering supervisors for these things, as it remains easier to just print something out and walk around the facility until I find the supervisor and ask my question. I headed toward his office, empty, but heard his voice down the hallway at the superintendent’s office, his supervisor and technically another possible opinion I should check in with for the color samples. I walked over and they asked how I could help, so I showed them the print outs and explained what they were for.
“Man, who cares about these colors! Hell, why don’t you try and get them in a rainbow for us?”
“Wouldn’t that be something. Ha! Rainbows… I bet those are completely sold out right now.” Frankly, I didn’t expect the superintendent to say anything, given that any time there was too long a lull in conversations he would bring up how much he hated California’s liberal politics. However, I was surprised that the supervisor, normally very picky about everything, was having a hard time selecting a color. I realized it was probably because there was a second supervisor in the room and I had interrupted their man time, I figured he needed to show how little he cared about these colors.
“Well, it’s not June anymore so I can definitely get you a rainbow coloring, but that would look awful for this. What color do you actually want?” Their chuckling died down, we picked colors and moved on with our lives. Later in the week, I was back with the supervisor, showing him carpet and flooring samples. “Well, Eric, I got you those rainbows you wanted, but there’s also other options.”
He laughed a bit, “Good one!” My supervisor was in the room at the time and he gave an inquisitive look, but neither of us moved to explain it and instead flipped through the catalogue of samples. I followed up with an email, did my due diligence and moved on with my day.
I’m not sure why I was reflecting on these conversations I had been having with these two groups, however, I noted that while I was willing to “laugh” at myself, not once had I heard my coworkers or the contractors make a joke about being straight, white, or cis men. One of the other supervisors is Mexican and he and I had certainly made jokes about that. Myself, I have been willing to play along with the homophobic jokes, doing what I needed to keep my job flowing. But I didn’t remember that group of contractors once making a joke they were the subject of, for all their fanfare about how everyone should be able to laugh at themselves.
It’s nothing that at this point is revolutionary, the idea has existed for a while that those at the top of the social ladder don’t know how to be the butt of the joke. If anything, they are most sensitive…