The drawing was small and soon erased, but when it appeared on a wall in a restroom, it had the weight necessary to draw the top officer of the Coast Guard to a recruit training center in Cape May, New Jersey.
A swastika was also found drawn by hand in one of the male bathrooms of the main enlisted training facility of the service, and a public rebuke of hate symbols was issued against the hand-drawn swastika, accompanied by the initiation of an internal investigation. In a press release, Adm. Kevin Lunday issued a message that was not quite designed to appeal to the PR media but rather to the company criteria: Anybody who believes in or propagates hate or extremist views leave. Leave. You do not fit in the United States Coast Guard and we do not accept you, he said.
According to the accounts that were provided by the service, the symbol was spotted on Thursday evening and reported by an instructor. It was taken off shortly and the case was sent to the investigative follow-up, where there was a forensic investigator. Lunday had been briefed during the weekend and flew to Cape May, where he made a speech to some 900 recruits and staff members.
The training facility occupies a unique position within the Coast Guard: it is the initial place where all of the recruits are introduced to the service and the expectations of the service are instilled in them before new recruits move to operational sectors. That is why the cases connected with the use of intimidation or bias are particularly acute, since the conditions are created to define behavior at the initial stage, when habits and conventions are not established in a profession.
In its reaction, the Coast Guard packaged the discovery as something that could not happen again, as it was inconsistent with the ethics of the organization in terms of order and respect. The service declared that it has never condoned or ever punished the exhibiting of hate symbols or images related to intimidation, hatred or oppression and that it is dedicated to “safe, professional and respectful” workplace. It was referred to the Coast Guard Investigative Service to investigate the matter, and the leaders stressed that responsibility, and not only elimination of the drawing, was the priority.
The episode was also pitching on ground that had been sensitized by previous arguments regarding the manner the Coast Guard characterizes and controls hateful imagery in its own instructions. In late last year, a change in a workplace harassment guide elicited criticism due to the inclusion of items like swastikas and nooses in the category of “potentially divisive” items, a term later changed, with criticism and examination. This new, concentrated attention at Cape May reinforced the importance of internal phrasing in creating expectations: making rules conditional may make them seem optional to those who require them most.
In addition to this individual case, the Coast Guard has been working over the years to develop internal infrastructures to avert discrimination and enhance unit culture, such as education and coaching, which are aimed at commanders. The Diversity and Inclusion Education and Awareness Program of the service has provided a track of “Change Agent” that provides coaching and training on D&I empowerment to the leaders who want to instill the behaviors of inclusiveness at work. The policy facet of the matter shows that the Civil Rights Directorate of the Coast Guard has a declared vision of a discrimination-free workplace and publishes the guidance on the equal opportunities and anti-harassment standards.
The task at the moment at Cape May was also simple: find out who drew the symbol, reinforce messages to recruits and personnel, and prevent the message getting boiled down to a burst of indignation. According to Lunday, the leadership of the Coast Guard defined the boundary as something that is not negotiable, specifically, service in uniform and the advancement of hate cannot exist simultaneously.
