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These days, if you scroll through Instagram you might notice something different: stories of discrimination at Canadian and US universities are appearing everywhere. I'm most familiar with @iveyatthemargins, an account that shares injustices at my alma mater. Take a few minutes and read through some of these posts. How do you feel? 

Some of these posts are outright appalling, perhaps even concerning to you if you're someone who's planning on attending business school. If you thought tuition was going to be your only challenge, well, let's say you might be in for a treat. 

Interestingly, I was not in the least surprised to read some of these stories. I could easily recount experiences in my own life that mirrored those of some of my peers. Subtle microaggressions that didn't exactly sit right, but felt trivial. Words that flew over my head. Jokes that I may have found funny, sometimes even at my expense. 

To label these nuances as discriminatory may feel like crying for help after being shot—by a water gun. Black and indigenous groups have been discriminated against for centuries. So have various other groups based on their sexual orientation. If that's our benchmark for discrimination, then why should the stories of some earnest twenty-something-year-olds matter? 

You may even be inclined to apply those highly coveted critical thinking skills you've worked so hard to develop, treating each story like a case study that needs to be broken down and examined in its constituent parts. Well, this is logically inconsistent because X or this isn't exactly discrimination because Y sound like the beginning of fairly cogent arguments, don't they?

This is dangerous thinking. Discrimination comes in all forms, and while some are certainly more serious than others (and should warrant higher priority accordingly), we can't move forward until everyone's voices are heard. 

I'm not overly optimistic about Ivey's willingness to push for social change. Make no mistake, I'm confident that some steps will be taken and that some good will come out of it. This is certainly a step forward and should not be discounted—any change is better than no change. However, Ivey is not some special place. It's a profit-seeking business, just like the one you work for. It relies on tuition and donor contributions (revenues) to fund its classes (expenses). It has few competitors and knows that your alternative isn't much better. We can protest all we want, but as long as there is a demand for business, there will be a demand for business schools. Business schools are very much a microcosm of the business world, both in unity and in division. And the business world is far from being an inclusive place. 

The system is inherently unfair, but you can do something about it. In fact, I see no greater engine for change than keeping ourselves and our peers accountable. Here are some questions that you can ask yourself:

• Am I willing to start difficult conversations with friends who might "take things the wrong way"? Am I speaking up for microaggressions that don't affect me?
• Have I ever made jokes at others' expense? If so, have I taken steps to make amends?
• Am I learning how to manage upwards? Chances are, your manager (or your manager's manager) is a straight, white male. Are you building the courage to keep him accountable? 
• (In group meetings) Do I have a predilection for certain team members? If so, why? Do I acknowledge everyone in the room when it's my turn to speak, or focus on specific people? What steps could I take to amplify the voices of those less likely to speak up? 
• (In designing teams/products/etc) Have I considered how my decisions affect various groups? Have I identified points for exclusion and taken steps to mitigate them? 
• (In student leadership) Should my actions strive to empower everyone's voices, or those most vulnerable? Would you give a microphone to someone with a megaphone? 

In some ways, studying business as a minority is like getting hit hard while going for a layup—only for there to be no whistle. Some players barely get any contact all game yet somehow always make it to the free throw line. It's frustrating and unfair, isn't it? By putting you in this situation, society has fouled you. You can complain to the ref and say, "Hey, I got fouled, that's against the rules," and maybe he'll commit to doing better and watching you more carefully on the next play. Biased referees will always be part of our game. It's inevitable. What matters most is that we pick ourselves back up and keep playing. 

Ambitious college students often approach extracurricular activities in a similar fashion. They attend their school's club fair, discover which organizations interest them, and apply for highly coveted "executive positions." Students worthy enough of being bestowed titles like "Director of X" or "VP of Y" quickly proceed to update their LinkedIn, proudly wearing their new titles like a freshly minted MD at her white coat ceremony. Our new club executive will spend much of the year working on "fulfilling the club's mandate to inspire and educate students in X field of business," which is just a fancy way of saying plan events. The year draws to a close. Some decide to interview and "move up" while others leave, eager to begin manipulating each line item on their resumé with their recent contributions. Like a clock, one revolution ends and the next begins. 

As contrived as this may sound, there's actually nothing wrong with this view. While not everyone wants to be an event planner, there are other genuine benefits to joining a school club. You likely already know most of them, and that isn't the focus of this essay. I do want to highlight one particular benefit, though: the importance of community. There are few things more inspiring than being on a team of highly motivated individuals working towards a common goal, even if that goal is as transient as an upcoming event. This shouldn't be neglected. 

But for other students looking to learn and develop skills relevant to their future careers, I invite you to the world of contract work. 

I want to preface by stating that pursuing contract work isn't a viable extracurricular strategy for every career path, especially for jobs outside of business and technology. At the end of the day, it's up to you to decide how you want to best spend your time.

What is Contract Work? 

In our context, contract work looks like working remotely for a company/organization during the school year, often in a function requiring some degree of hard skills—like marketing or programming, to name a few examples. Contract work deviates from the conventional model of summer-only internships, providing ambitious students with an opportunity to gain "real-world" experience all year around. 

Let's look at an example. Marco has always dreamed of being a marketer. When he gets to university, he signs up for every business club on campus, encouraged by the endearing words of his second-year mentor. He lands a junior executive position with two business clubs, believing that his success must have come from his plethora of high school accomplishments. If only you went to SHAD and won at DECA Provincials, he tells his friend Mary, who, like Marco, also hopes to pursue a career in marketing. 

Mary remains involved as a member of her school's marketing club but instead begins to fire off cold emails to different startups and marketing agencies. Days pass and no responses yet. She reads up on communication cadences and structured frameworks on selling. She DMs upper years on Instagram for coffee chats. She cold emails various upper year marketing professors to learn more about their research (and, of course, to also ask for warm introductions to the marketing professionals she found on LinkedIn). Eventually, her tenacity pays off, and she secures a 4-month contract working remotely for a seed-stage ads startup. 

It's now January. Mary begins working remotely, logging on after her classes for a few hours a day. She works directly under the VP of Marketing and learns how to run targeted ad campaigns on Facebook and Google. She struggles at first but is determined to make things work. Her boss is open, honest, and encouraging. She eventually owns her own campaign and delivers an expected ROI of 35%. Not bad, Mary.

Marco, on the other hand, is juggling between planning two major flagship events. He's having trouble finding speakers who are willing to attend and is facing increasing pressure from his demanding, second-year VP. While one club's event stumbles, the other is a huge success. 

By April, both Mary and Marco are looking for a summer job in marketing. Which candidate seems more employable? 

Why Now?

The purpose of this essay isn't to argue which approach is better; rather, it's to share with you an alternative view on spending your time during university. Through pursuing contract work opportunities, I've had the privilege of learning from and working with some really cool people, from the co-founder of Zoom Information to a former NBA player. These opportunities were never easy to create, but isn’t that why they say nothing easy is ever worth doing?

These past few months have shown us that remote work is at an inflection point. Many companies around the world have ordered their employees to work from home. Work culture, as we know it, is undergoing an inevitable shift towards remote teams. Companies will be increasingly open to hiring remote employees, and with them, part-time students. 

Opportunity for contract work abounds! Will you be ready when it knocks?