Todd Jenkins: Bow tied to hope

Bow tiedto hope

“He is a tremendous listener. He helps people be seen and be heard. Many of us are walking on our respective paths, feeling unappreciated, unheard and unseen — he has a way of engaging people, and giving them the space and time to open up. I think that helps him foster authentic relationships with individuals.” — Ana Claudia Aguayo

(Photo by Novo Studio)
“He is a tremendous listener. He helps people be seen and be heard. Many of us are walking on our respective paths, feeling unappreciated, unheard and unseen — he has a way of engaging people, and giving them the space and time to open up. I think that helps him foster authentic relationships with individuals.” — Ana Claudia Aguayo (Photo by Novo Studio)

"I'm going to loosen my bow tie a bit, get a little comfy," says Dr. Todd Jenkins with a laugh as he settles into a 90-minute phone interview. He doesn't have a lot of trouble "getting comfy": The gregarious Jenkins -- the senior diversity, inclusion and innovation lead at J.B. Hunt Transport Services, as well as the founder and CEO of Bowtie Leadership and Development -- has built his brand on traits that make him a great conversationalist: open mindedness, warmth, wit and a genuine interest in what makes other human beings tick.

"He was unlike any student I had worked with before," says Dr. Becka Neary-DeLaPorte, who served in the student affairs office while Jenkins was attending the University of South Carolina. "One thing was for certain: Todd thrived in meeting new people and building relationships. He always had something to learn, and, for him, formal education only satisfied one aspect of his quest for knowledge. He also relied on the human experience and learning from others."

"Learning from others" is primary to the Bowtie ethos. Throughout his life, Jenkins has deliberately stepped into environments and roles that were unfamiliar to him -- but instead of finding discomfort, he learned from these experiences, constantly stretching the boundaries of his empathy and understanding. Consider his involvement in Rotary as an example: When Jenkins came to Fayetteville to study at the University of Arkansas, he found himself yearning for more social interaction. Upon the urging of Chancellor David Gearhart, whom Jenkins counts as a mentor, he attended a meeting of the Fayetteville chapter of Rotary International. Most members did not look like him, but instead of feeling out of place, Jenkins fell in love with the organization. He was 24 years old. Today, his Rotary resume is as long as that of someone twice his age: he has served as the former Rotaract adviser, Interact sponsor, RYLA presenter, Youth Services chairman, two terms on Club Board of Directors, and graduated from the District and Zone Leadership Academy.

"I've been the [Youth Exchange Program] chair for maybe the last four or five years, and I'm still the youngest chair in the world," he says with a laugh. "And I just hit 30, so that is very interesting. But Rotary has opened my world to something else I never imagined, which is the global alignment of human empathy, service and passion."

"He's had the opportunity to develop his craft, which is, fundamentally, communication and public speaking, through Rotary," notes Ben Hasan, senior vice president and chief culture, diversity and inclusion officer for Walmart Inc. "In a way that a lot of people don't get this early in their career -- he's traveled internationally, speaking for Rotary."

It was through these disparate and varied life experiences that Jenkins found his niche: Today, he spends his professional life helping both employees and employers understand how diversity and inclusion can make workplaces more productive, fulfilling environments.

"It's critical, the conversations he's facilitating across our community and across our globe, thanks to the network he's been able to build," says Ana Claudia Aguayo, development officer at Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art and Jenkins' wife. "It seems like part of the equation that's missing, that would help us understand our humanity, are the shared struggles; [it's important] to keep an open dialogue. But with the social tension we're living with, people tend to shy away from expressing their true thoughts. I love that he's reminding people that we can disagree but still have a conversation. 'We may not see eye to eye, but let me understand where you're coming from.' His ability to facilitate conversation and showcase respect for others across race, identity, gender and cultures gives me hope for the future. These are the kinds of conversations we need to be having, day-to-day, as a nation, in order to move forward."

Memories of home

Born in Columbia, S.C., the son of a single mother, Jenkins has mostly happy memories from his childhood; it was only as an adult, he says, that he realized that things were not as easy as his hard-working mother and grandmother made them seem.

"I don't remember the absence of essentials from my life, growing up," he says. "But as I reflect and as I know what I know now, I was raised in poverty in a low-income area in the inner city of Columbia. The area in which I was raised had very high rates of crime, things that you might expect based on stats and trends in an impoverished city. The school district I was in was definitely all Black, and, due to zoning, we didn't have the greatest resources or the greatest infrastructure. But you don't really know that, because you're just enjoying childhood. Because my mom was such a strong parent for me and very protective, I had a curfew, so a lot of the things that were happening in my community, I wasn't directly involved or engaged in."

"He is one of the most conscientious and loyal people I know, and I think it speaks to his upbringing," notes Neary-DeLaPorte. "Most of his childhood was unpredictable and transient, but being raised by his mom and grandma, he knew the importance of loyalty to others, the importance of friendship and family."

He also has warm memories of his home environment and how it made him feel.

"I thought we were very wealthy individuals, because our apartment was the only apartment that had color on its walls," he remembers. "Most of the apartments had all-white walls. My mom painted my bedroom blue, with 'Sesame Street' dividers. She was very creative. And our living room had green walls. I really thought we were pretty wealthy because we had these colored walls, and that was unique in the projects."

Perhaps his most vivid memory from his childhood was what he calls "the Cut" -- a torn place in the fence surrounding his apartment complex that allowed people to cut through, entering or exiting the complex with some secrecy. Jenkins marvels at the dual nature and symbolism of the break in the fence in his childhood. It was a way for drug deals to take place in secrecy and allowed other crimes to enter the fenced-in complex. But the Cut also had positive implications on Jenkins' life, such as when he and his friends used it to get to the corner store to purchase candy, or when he used it on Sunday mornings to cut through to the church he started attending in his adolescence. His participation at this church led to summers at a Christian camp affiliated with the church -- and it was Jenkins' first experience living within a culture different than his own.

"So much happened at that camp," he says. "I learned how to swim. I learned how to shoot a rifle, as well as a bow and arrow. I learned outdoor survival. And I learned a different element of Christianity -- they sang different songs than I sang with my grandma at the Black church. It was just a different culture and a different climate. I really found a lot of my thirst for knowledge and aspiration and vision through what I read in the Bible at the time."

Jenkins so impressed staff at the camp that he would eventually serve as a camp counselor.

"Which was kind of unheard of for people that look like me and where I was from," he says. "I was one of the only people on staff that was of color. "

Growing leader

At that point, Jenkins had shown a pattern of leadership in his young life, both formally and informally. A preternatural gravitas and sense of assurance meant kids were apt to follow him. Teachers appointed him a hall monitor in elementary school. In high school, the police department tapped him to help root out businesses that would serve alcohol to minors. He made $17 an hour and got to ride around in an undercover police car.

"He was definitely called into leadership because it was something that simply comes natural to him," says Latoria Williams, Jenkins' first cousin and close friend. "He is someone that is and has always been confident enough to make sound decisions, with persuasive tendencies to match. He was involved in what seemed to be every club there was to offer. He wasn't just part of these clubs and organizations -- he put 100% into each one as if it was the only [one]."

Middle school brought a major change for Jenkins. His mother and grandmother were worried about the quality and safety of schools in his neighborhood, so Jenkins transferred to attend what were considered the "good" schools in a different part of town -- the "white part of town" -- because his grandmother was a custodian at one of them. This meant changing from a school where everyone looked like him to one where he was definitely in the minority.

"It wasn't easy, because I couldn't relate to the social factors of a lot of my peers," he says. "Their upbringing, the food, the type of music they listened to. I remember, that's how I got introduced to country music. So, socially, I wasn't able to really relate as much. And that was difficult, because I am a pretty involved and engaged person. But in student clubs or organizations, I wasn't always a part of the majority narrative of interest. That was interesting to have to navigate.

"Most of these kids came from pretty well established families. We came to school together, but when we went back home, we were separated. They didn't come back to my area. I didn't go to their area. That cross-pollination didn't really happen. I had to navigate the academia by myself. My mom made sure I did my homework every night, but I really had to put pen to paper and learn on my own and figure things out. The quality of resources and exposure the other kids had was different than me at the time."

Jenkins was a serious student, and, upon graduation, he had offers from universities like Duke and Morehouse College. He was the first person to attend college in his family, though, and his mother wanted him to stay close. He started out at Coastal Carolina University before transferring to the University of South Carolina, where he earned two bachelor's degrees -- one in psychology and one in sociology -- and graduated with honors.

"I never slowed down," he says with a laugh. "I got involved in student government, and I joined the first historically black intercollegiate fraternity, Alpha Phi Alpha, which really showed me, for the first time, a sense of brotherhood and the imagery of Black professional men -- men who were well-traveled. That was interesting, because I was starting to see different professions -- judges, doctors, lawyers -- all spectrums of professions in this brotherhood. Once again, I'm starting to step out of this little bubble and get exposed to differences and have a different element of what visualization and dreaming could mean for me."

Greek life at UA

After graduation, his first intention was to pursue a doctorate in psychology. But he shifted paths when he started noticing how few people of color he was seeing both in the collegiate classroom and administration. With that in mind, he set out for a graduate program at Illinois State University. After earning his master's, he moved to the UA to obtain his doctorate and accepted the position of assistant director of Greek Life -- another role, he says, that had him working with people who "did not look like me."

"So it was interesting, coming to the UA for that role," he continues. "But it was fun, because it allowed me to bring who I was to my position, what I could say as an empathetic and compassionate leader. It really allowed me to get to know the students beyond what the world told me who they were -- you heard so much about [Greek life] students: 'They are privileged. They're all about alcohol. They're all about parties.' And I saw that that might be some of them, but that is not the true story for all in this community."

Over the years, Jenkins started to notice something: As he continued to expand his boundaries, his ideas on how to be a facilitator between cultures continued to grow, and his research reflected that. For his 2015 dissertation, titled "What Keeps Us Here? Perceptions of Workplace Supervision Among African-American Men in Student Affairs," Jenkins interviewed 106 participants from a variety of institutions.

"My research looked at how minority professionals perceive their supervisor in a workplace," he says. "I always try to go with, 'What can reach the most people?' And I thought, 'Well, most people have a supervisor or a manager. And most workplace complaints I hear in my community are about managers, especially when they look different from them.' So I wanted to study that and unpack that. I wanted to talk to the minority professionals to see what their perception was -- because often there was a disconnect and a gap of how the supervisor thought the individual saw them versus what they actually did see. And that was a lot of things around cultural barriers and lack of competencies from a cultural lens. And that led me to working with 'global fortunate' 500 companies and organizations like Rotary and nonprofits to lift up diversity, equity and inclusion in work and training."

Today, Jenkins has turned his penchant for bow ties into a brand: He runs his own consulting firm, Bowtie Leadership, traveling the globe to talk to groups as large as 30,000 people. Speaking topics include "Unconscious Bias to Inclusive Awareness" and "BowTIE Conversations: Learning How to Have Difficult Conversations in the Workplace." It's clear that his favorite necktie is more than just a fashion choice.

"When I started to wear bow ties, it was the first time that I felt like people came up to talk to me," he says. "They were curious about my tie -- 'Where did you get it from? Did you tie it yourself?' ... I recall thinking, 'Wow, what if people started to embrace each other and were just curious about other people?'"

Using this fascination with bow ties, Jenkins created an acronym to help people communicate more effectively: "B" is for "Be present." "O" is for "Stay open to new ideas." "W" is for "Be willing to share your own story, your own truth." The "tie" part -- the hardest part of wearing a bow tie -- is also the hardest part of a conversation.

"How do you tie it together?" he says. "How do you leave the conversation better than you came in, so you can really be a gift to yourself in the world. That's the bow tie philosophy."

Bowtie wisdom

In addition to his global travels, Jenkins started a podcast this year. "Bowtie Convos" -- you can find the podcast on Apple and Google Podcasts and Spotify -- tackles difficult subjects, features a diverse slate of guests and encourages its listeners to communicate to get past cultural and racial biases and barriers.

He also continues to study the field through post-graduate work at Harvard University.

"He will call me up and say, 'Hey, Ben, I need some advice,' and I'll say, 'Todd, you actually already know what to do,'" says Hasan with a chuckle. "When people stop learning and seeking new knowledge, they stop growing. He could have sat back and said, 'I have my Ph.D., my cool consulting job,' and not continued to grow -- that really impresses me about him, that he's continued to grow."

Williams says she is not at all surprised that this is what her cousin has ended up doing with his life. He has always been, she says, "someone that's able to adapt in different settings and understand different cultures to learn to respect them, even more than he already was raised to do so. His journey has helped him to become a well-rounded, considerate and passionate go-getter."

"Go-getter" is a word that comes up frequently when the people who love him talk about Jenkins.

"From the time that I met him, he's been a go-getter, someone who has a lot on his mind and is not afraid to speak up," says Aguayo. The two met at a coffee shop in Fayetteville and, soon after their first meeting, "[Jenkins] came to volunteer at one of my fundraising events and rolled up his sleeves and jumped into the kitchen and started washing dishes. That led me to consider a date, seeing him doing the work and not being afraid to roll up his sleeves and continue doing the work."

And, says Jenkins, doing the work at the pivotal time we find ourselves in is so, so important.

"We're dealing with two pandemics -- covid-19 and racism," he says. "And now is the time that people are at home, so they can focus. Usually, we're just so wired to be busy and distracted. Now, we have a time and an ability for a moment to feel and realize and engage if we choose. That's why I think this moment is different. When you have that vulnerability and openness for that moment, it's more opportunity for discovery and action if someone chooses to engage."

Will this moment continue beyond social isolation, when we return to the new normal -- whatever that might be?

"I hope, because that's the only thing I do have," he answers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "I have hope. My ancestors, the people who fought for me to have a seat at the table, it's all because of the hope. And I do have hope that these moments of our history will lead to transformative change, will lead to a lot of great dialogue. I hope this won't just be trendy, I hope this won't be just a hashtag or just talk. And that's the only thing I have.

"I hope that when I wake up tomorrow I'm going to smile, there's going to be a better day than before, and we're going to keep this thing going."

“His confidence has always been paired with hard work, experience, and education,” says cousin and close friend Latoria Williams of Jenkins, pictured here sitting in front of the apartment complex where he grew up. “He has always been one to put in the work to learn about his passion. Who doesn’t appreciate a leader like that?”

(Courtesy Photo)
“His confidence has always been paired with hard work, experience, and education,” says cousin and close friend Latoria Williams of Jenkins, pictured here sitting in front of the apartment complex where he grew up. “He has always been one to put in the work to learn about his passion. Who doesn’t appreciate a leader like that?” (Courtesy Photo)

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Self-Portrait

Todd Jenkins

I know I’ve helped someone when they feel empowered to help themselves

Few people know I love to sing gospel music.

If I’ve learned one thing in life, it’s that it’s not your past that defines you, but your action of the presence and the impact of your servant leadership into the future.

I wish I knew more about my family history and ancestors.

My greatest strength is human empathy.

If asked to give my high school commencement address, my theme would be either “The World Needs You” or “You Are More Than You Think”

The best part of my job is to live out my mission every day of creating spaces for all humans to belong and thrive, one bowtie conversation at a time!

If I had the power to change one thing in the world, it would be the Inclusive Ecosystem of Social Equity.

Follow Todd Jenkins on Instagram and Facebook @dr.bowtietodd; find out more about him on his website, bowtieleadership.com; and listen to The Bowtie Convo podcast at bowtieconvo.buzzspr….

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