OPINION: Somebody to Lean On

Former U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations, Samantha Power (right), discusses her latest book, the Education of an Idealist, with Georgetown Professor Paul Elie (left). (Berkley Center for Religion, Peace, & World Affairs) — *Former U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations, Samantha Power (right), discusses her latest book,* the Education of an Idealist, with Georgetown Professor Paul Elie (left). (Berkley Center for Religion, Peace, & World Affairs)

Yebin Won (SFS ‘22) is a regular Compass World contributor and a guest writer for the Caravel's opinion section. The content and opinions of this piece are the writer’s and the writer’s alone. They do not reflect the opinions of the Caravel or its staff.

Ambassador Samantha Power isn’t shy about talking directly to her latest book’s intended audience: young people. She’s enthusiastic that talking about her book, The Education of an Idealist, to Georgetown University students may inspire them to engage with public service.

Acknowledging that the inner workings of the government are not readily accessible to the general public, especially young people, Ambassador Power “really intend[ed] the book to inspire people to think that they’d want to be a part of something like that.” Likening the workings of the United States government to a team sport, which works with (or, rather, in spite of) personal differences and individual egos, the former U.S. ambassador to the UN hopes to sell the idea of service.

“For young people to see what it’s like—the humor, and the camaraderie, and the tension and the suspense… I think more exposure would make more, not fewer, people want to be a part of that enterprise,” she said excitedly, her eyes suddenly sparkling. The host, Professor Paul Elie, quickly assured her: “I think it worked.”

I agree. Watching her animated hands move around the confines of my computer screen, her fuschia blouse fluttering to keep up, I cannot help but feel drawn to Power’s energy. “What must it be like,” I write in my notes as she speaks, “to be this convinced in something?” As I listen to her writing process, I underline the word “convinced” three times to underscore my awe: that she, a former war correspondent and career diplomat, could maintain her sense of conviction and hope in spite of everything that she had seen, after all the disappointments that she encountered.

How did she do it? A few minutes later, I have something of an answer to this question: lean on others. A play on Sheryl Sandberg’s “lean in” mantra, Power reflected on the importance of leaning on others for help. In particular, she draws upon Andre Agassi’s metaphor of “expanding family units” to illustrate how mentors, colleagues, and friends became a part of her support network, an army of people she can turn to for encouragement and fortification.

Since her book revolves around her time as a government employee, she dives into the “not-ideal gender dynamics” in the White House. When explaining the national security community, in particular, she briefly pauses to consider how she should characterize it, then barks out, “Guys,” followed by a little chuckle.

She relates how a senior female colleague created an all-female “Wednesday Group” to convene the few women at their workplace. “It was an incredibly cathartic and commiserative exercise at times,” Power remembers fondly, her hands scooping from her chest to the camera. In that brief slice of time, her talk feels like a cathartic exercise to me, a college junior who dreams about entering this field; as she raves about the Wednesday Group, I cannot help but imagine myself as a future member of this cohort.

When she moves forward to her experience at the UN, I snap out of my brief daydream and return to my note-taking. Ruefully, I admit to myself that Power is doing rather well at reeling in the “young people.”

Power’s talk inspired me, as I was writing, to reflect upon my own life as she did on hers: my brain was racing to identify my own personal narrative arcs and identities.

We are both women trying to navigate a profoundly male-dominated community of national and international security, so it seems only natural that I should compare my trajectory with hers, finding points of entry in her experiences that will allow me to emulate and share in her successes, too.

As I sketched my dreams in parallel with the ambassador, Power began talking about the recent presidential election. Here, she praised Vice President-Elect Kamala Harris. The “thrilling” glass ceiling Harris has broken. The young boys and girls across the country she might inspire. A little belatedly, it dawned on me that though Ambassador Power and I share a gender identity, we remain two very different humans—namely, unlike Ambassador Power, VP-elect Harris and I are women of color.

Readers familiar with the term “intersectionality” (if not, no shame: here’s a crash course) would know that every one one of us is, if you will, an identity crepe cake, with each identity overlapping and intersecting to create the unique cakes—or people—that each of us are.

If we look at the general “female” population, for instance, identities such as race, sexuality, religion, ability, and class give birth to endless permutations of what it means to be a “woman.” The various flavors of femininity and woman-ness, then, are as numerous as the stars that pepper the skies; in short, the female experience is no monolith.

Power draws upon her own lived experiences as they are: naturally, they are the things that she would be most qualified to speak on. However, when reflecting upon her desire to engage with the young people of America—a demographic that is becoming increasingly more diverse in every sense of the word—she misses out on a crucial population: young people of color. While she undoubtedly succeeds in inspiring young people of color, her rhetoric may fail to connect with them in a sustainable manner.

What does this mean? What is the difference between “inspiring” and “connecting” with people of color? Here’s how I would break it down, in the context of Power’s talk: while the Ambassador does a wonderful job at getting young people excited for a future in public service, she stops short of fully recognizing how experiences in government careers will vary greatly between white and non-white Americans. In other words, I think she succeeds in inspiring young people of color to dream of joining public service, but does not offer them much beyond that encouragement.

While Kamala Harris and Barack Obama have indeed shown people of color that they can surmount great barriers, they are the exception, not the norm. The racial slurs, birtherism conspiracy theories, and general discrimination that they both, and so many other nonwhite leaders, face as a result of their race is a significant and underappreciated part of their stories.

It’s no surprise that American government agencies and departments have constantly struggled with their lack of racial diversity. I can say from my own lived experience that these details are rarely missed by communities of color in this country. It is naive to believe that young people of color won’t seriously consider these realities when evaluating a career in public service.

By not explicitly incorporating these realities into her talk, Power celebrates the accomplishments of leaders of color while failing to advocate for any kind of constructive framework to combat systems and work environments that discourage, intimidate, and exclude Americans of color from participating.

Her “Wednesday Group” story, for example, was an informal, women-led initiative to create a supportive environment for “outnumbered” female government officials. But what similar informal and formal frameworks of support, mentorship, and solidarity exist for people of color? For women of color? What initiatives are in place to champion government officials of color, and how successful have they been in retaining these officers?

The answer is not promising: at the State Department, a recent report from the U.S. Government Accountability Office suggests that by 2018, the agency had, in fact, become less diverse internally and in comparison to the rest of the federal government than it was in 2002.

The situation wasn’t so different in the intelligence community: that same year, an annual demographic report from the Office of Director of National Intelligence found that women constituted 38.8% of the US intelligence workforce, and women of color accounted for only 12.4% of the US intelligence community (for comparison, women and women of color make up 50.8% and 20% of the U.S. population, respectively).

In other words: what systems are in place to make sure that people of color and women of color, not just white women, have someone to lean on? Though I acknowledge that my status as a South Korean woman influences how I viewed her talk, my lived experiences as well as personal interactions with my American friends of color tell me that the national and international security community does not have many structures that people who look like me — a woman of color — can lean on, at least not yet.

This is by no means an indictment of the ambassador’s talk: even with her limited time and scope, she spoke authentically and persuasively about identities she personally lived through (primarily her female and immigrant identities). It’s hard not to feel inspired by her story.

Still, if she intended her book to galvanize all young people (especially those who would be assets to the government) I cannot help but worry that her efforts to engage this new generation could fall flat. As long as Powers and her colleagues fail to concretely address the very real societal barriers that young Americans of color face when contemplating government service, her dreams of a diverse new generation of public servants may remain wishful thinking.

I am hopeful—no, convinced—that a more inclusive future is well within our reach. Just look at Ambassador Samantha Power, a female Irish immigrant who found ways to break through numerous glass ceilings throughout her political career. So, though the barriers stacked against many Americans of color are a little higher than that of their white counterparts, Power’s journey and lessons remain inspiring. No barrier is insurmountable when you have someone to lean on along the way.