I have been reading about the diversity narrative
as the next business imperative;
a steroid for growing companies' profit muscles.
Ideal to show off at the next analysts' hustles.
I interviewed diverse accountants drowned by anxiety.
We were in the middle of Barangaroo [1] offices
overlooking business deals with champagne flowing,
coke snorting and stripper tipping.
They experienced concealment of identities;
about being diverse in their brown skin,
same-sex desire, menstrual cycle, refugee backgrounds —
in cages made by white pale stale Western males.
I go home and open again those Big 4 reports
that sermonise about gender gap closure, LGBTQI + inclusion,
Indigenous business leadership increases.
I'm disgusted. I'm grossed out. I'm gutted.
I walk Oxford Street [2] and I hear that beat —
a Stonewall bar [3] queer night
with a fluidity of tresses, dresses, spaces.
I fantasise about corporate diversity alike.
Zooms that sound our lands,
meetings smelling of colours where
we see voices, touch human kindness
and we taste connection to emotions.
The author gratefully acknowledges the constructive comments provided by Shona Bates, Christine Gilbert, Yolande McNicoll and Joanne Sopt.
Notes
Barangaroo is an area of the Sydney central business district. Redeveloped in early 2010s, it contains all major accounting firms and business headquarters.
A major street in Sydney with a reputation as Sydney's primary LGBTQI + nightclubs and bars strip.
Major LGBTQI + entertainment venue in Oxford Street in Sydney.
