My daughter got invited to a mostly guys Superbowl party last year. I made her a pot of chili to bring. She got coached on the finer points of the playing teams and their tactical formations. Discussions and cheers got louder and more boisterous. Then one of the guys said he wants to play college football in a few years. Another snapped with disdain that players are scouted and downplayed the hopeful’s skill. He added, unnecessarily, that unless the scouts were looking to fill a quota, scraping the barrel is not the franchise’s goal. Embolden, he went further to say that colleges shouldn’t even have quotas. What followed was a lot of counterpoints, screaming, shoving and soon, a football huddle turned into a hockey brawl. Then the table full of food was flipped by the now vitriolic, yet still hopeful player.

My daughter called me to say the party was over. I went to pick her up at the subway station as the game was nearly over anyway. She didn’t care who won; it was just a social event. “What the hell happened?” I asked. Well, one guy said that there should be no DEI admission at college and universities. “Don’t tell me, the table flipper was a minority and stood to gain with DEI policies in place.” Yap! “I see. Do you think DEI helps or hinders people,” I asked my daughter.

She thought for a long while but didn’t have a definitive answer for either side. She admitted that it certainly does help some people who may not have the opportunity nor financial resources. But that could come at the expense of others who don’t need assistance and also denied the opportunity.

DEI can open doors, but it shouldn’t be used to prop it open. Unless it is to overcome physical barriers or enable genuine empowering circumstances, continued accommodation inevitably invites cynicism and resentment.

I turned the discussion to my daughter who was directly impacted by the equity admission policy to her IB program in high school. Historically, kids needed to be ‘tested’ to gain a placement to the academically vigorous program. But recently, the school board decided to use a lottery system instead of merit to determine admission to ensure equity for all. The results were fairly evident in the first semester as some kids were academically left in the dust while those who truly desired the program and were very capable didn’t get a winning ticket. The teachers were also not supportive of the new entry standards as it was very evident that the new admission policy didn’t do anything to help struggling students.

In the two years since my daughter got her winning admission ticket, she’s seen many friends drop out for one reason or another. There is still a core group of peers who stayed, but the cohort certainly has shifted. For better or for worse, it’s tough to conclude as the group hasn’t progressed to graduation for even one longitudinal study.

“You’re dealing with issues that many institutions and even governments are grappling with,” I told my daughter. Generations later, we are all living with the consequences of hopeful programs like Civil Rights Act, Affirmative Action, and frameworks of diversity, equity and inclusion. Some of these programs were installed to counter truly prejudicial systems. But there will always be supporters and detractors to everything.

My daughter and I both agree that we all can benefit from a helping hand in the form of an introduction, a referral, an open door. But our ability to walk through that door and to stay there is based entirely on that: our ability. DEI can open doors, but it shouldn’t be used to prop it open. Unless it is to overcome physical barriers or enable genuine empowering circumstances, continued accommodation inevitably invites cynicism and resentment.

So that’s the answer, dad? I looked at my daughter and laughed. “I’m glad you brought my chili bowl back. It didn’t take flight when the table was tossed?” Oh, the bowl flew, everything else broke. It still had a bit of chili in it. “Thick chili!” She laughed. “But the bowl is a Pyrex.” Is that good? “The best quality you can find.”