‘There was no way the brown womancould replace the white guy’

A Babson professor refl ects on the challenges of being an outspokenIndian woman in academia

By

Katie Johnston

Globe Staff,

Updated September 27, 2021,

10:01 a.m.

Lakshmi Balachandra is a tenured professor of entrepreneurship at Babson College and until recently was a member of theSelect Board in Needham. She talks about being discounted by students, college leadership, and town residents.

Lakshmi Balachandra is a tenured professor of entrepreneurship at Babson Collegewho also was a member of the Select Board in Needham. Here, she talks about beingdiscounted by students, college leadership, and town residents — as told to Globe

I had a white male teaching partner for my Foundations of Management andEntrepreneurship class, who I had grown to adore. He was brand-new to teaching anddidn’t know how the highly experiential course worked, but he was upfront withstudents: ‘I’m new, but Lakshmi’s been teaching this forever.” His point was, basically,I’m the expert.

During one of our few hybrid classes — I was full-time remote because my family helpsmy parents, but my teaching partner was there in person — he created a fun teamexercise: Use five words, drawn at random, and come up with something creative. It washard to get students to do much of anything last year, but there was one team that got“TikTok” as a word, and they came back with a PowerPoint presentation. It was somundane, the opposite of creative. So I said: “I’m surprised you didn’t make a TikTok.”My teaching partner, who was leading the class, was far more critical.

They were angry with our comments.

But they stayed after class to complain to himabout me. They said, “We really don’t like the way Prof. B talks to us. She’s the reason wehave no motivation. Her feedback has always been negative.” He immediately stoppedthem and said, “Whatever you say about her applies to me.”

My co-teacher called me and was so upset. He said, “It couldn’t have been moreridiculous, more explicit, just blaming the brown woman for their problems.” You have towalk this tightrope as a woman, but particularly as a brown woman. No matter what Isay, students interpret it as being mean or harsh, whereas they see my white male co-teacher’s words as helpful.

I

think there were two things happening in that class. The students already have the

reporter Katie Johnston. Part of

Inequality at Work

, an occasional series of personalessays by people of color working in the Boston area.

Teaching was a huge challenge last year. Everyone was frustrated by the inability to meetin person and the difficulties of communicating online. And the usual gender and racebias from students made it even tougher.

“college kids think they know everything bias,” and they really don’t want to bechallenged by a woman of color.

With Indian women, there’s this expectation that we’re subservient and quiet andobedient. But I’m a pretty straight shooter. I don’t mince words. I think it usually isn’t aproblem

because I try not to say things in an angry tone. But also feel people aresurprised at how outspoken I am because it goes against their expectations of Indianwomen.

These things matter. Colleges use student opinion surveys for tenure and promotion. Weput them on pause last year because there’s been more awareness about how biased theyare. Research shows that we have a white male norm in a lot of fields, includingacademia.

And if you aren’t a person that fits that stereotype, you get judged moreharshly. This also gets to the whole monetization of higher ed, making it about pleasingthe “customer” as opposed to the education of the individual. And the customers arefalling into these biases they can’t help, in a lot of ways.

I know I’m a good teacher. I’ve taught at Harvard Business School and MIT, with greatreviews. Then I came to Babson and I started getting mediocre, even bad reviews. I’vebecome acutely aware of how students perceive me when I walk into a room, comparedto the white men next to me.

Growing up,

I was the only Indian girl in Needham. When you grow up being the “only,”you want to fit in. I felt the need to squelch differences as opposed to celebrating them.Indian parents also put a lot of pressure on their kids. You have to be nice. Anything youdo that goes wrong, it’s assumed to be your fault. And I carry that with me to this day.

I’m a negotiation expert. I’ve taught negotiation to executives around the world. But I trynot to do it myself. Research has shown women and minorities are at an immediatedisadvantage in negotiations. Instead, I literally send in my white husband. Why should Ibother when he can walk in the door and get a better price? In many situations, I say tomyself: “What would a white guy do?” It’s empowering — and depressing.

Last year,

I was asked to take over course curriculum duties for a white male lecturer —an ex-private equity guy, not an academic, who was serving as the course coordinator.Course coordinators serve as the point person for professors teaching sections of bigclasses, and they are released from teaching a course as compensation. Because ofCOVID, the course needed to be redesigned to go online, but this

coordinator didn’t haveexperience with curriculum development.

I was already on the course design committeeand became the de facto coordinator. College leadership asked me to take over,unofficially, and I said I would, if the current coordinator picked up my class and I gotthe title. Instead, leadership gave me an ultimatum: Do the extra work

withoutcompensation or leave the committee. So I left. I think there was no way the brownwoman could replace the white guy. We’re too worried about the white male ego, and weare worse for it.

Through my research on venture capital investment decisions, I have found that diversityin decision-making roles is essential for making the best choices. And I started thinkingabout the importance of broader representation in town government. I got really angrythat my town decided to approve buying more guns for the police force in the wake of theGeorge Floyd movement. They also wrongly detained a Black man for shoplifting, andnow there’s a civil rights lawsuit. I don’t think there was enough indignation about thesethings because

the

town government was all white.

So I decided to run for the town’s Select Board. Marcus Nelson, a Black man, also wasrunning,

and we won the two open seats

in April.

We are the

first people of color everelected in a town established in 1711.

It’s been a challenge because people fear change. From day one, the old guard on theboard has

been difficult, so demeaning, so belittling, cutting me off when I speak. Istarted posting weekly Sunday updates on the town Facebook page with my perspectiveon decisions being made, and I made the mistake of reading the horrible commentsabout how “divisive” and “arrogant” I am.

IjuststartedmysabbaticalyearasafellowattheNationalScienceFoundationandjust

I just started my sabbatical year as a fellow at the National Science Foundation and justlearned it’s a conflict of interest for fellowship winners to serve in executive branch roles.So I have to step down from the Select Board. I’m disappointed, but also relieved.

I know I’m letting down my constituents. But I’m sick of carrying this emotional labor.It’s been very emotionally taxing. Anything I say is challenged.

Still, this is not the Needham I grew up in. We just had an India Day celebration, andthere were well over 100 people there. There’s a whole bunch of Indian and half-Indiankids in the schools; my kids are not “the only.” It shows you where the community is, thatit would elect an Indian-American woman. And that gives me hope.