Are you familiar with the concept of unconscious bias? It is when people make judgments or decisions based on prior experience, their own personal deep-seated thought patterns, assumptions or interpretations, and at times they are not aware that they are doing it. The Oxford Learner’s Dictionary defines it as an unfair belief about a group of people that you are not aware of and that affects your behavior and decisions.

I’ve been on the receiving end of it for nearly nineteen years. And I can pinpoint my move from DC to Dallas – which was the result of a corporate relocation that I chose to make and am glad I did – as to when it began. I don’t ever recall being asked if I’ve always lived in New York or DC in the decades I lived there. But if it comes up in a discussion (maybe with a work colleague, or vendor, or client or prospect) that I am based in Dallas, immediately the other person assumes I have never been anywhere else. Why? Where did the notion of a hermetically sealed Lone Star State come from? Texas has undergone a considerable transformation in recent decades, and its urban centers may well be among the most diverse environments in the country. The state has experienced countless corporate relocations over the years, with companies from all over the US bringing a lot of workers with them. Most of my neighbors are newish Texas residents because of corporate relocation. We had a block party a few years ago, and learned there were only 3 families out of 20 on this street who were native Texans. People moved here from Illinois, California, Maryland, Arizona, Georgia, Rhode Island, and even other countries. So why do people outside of Texas not realize this? You’d think that the tons of cities in Texas named after other places (Fredericksburg, Roanoke, Bedford, Arlington, Palestine, Rome, and Dublin, to name a few) might provide a clue to the large number of transplants here.

I’ve tried to find answers online, but unfortunately there are no clear answers. Anyone who has heard me speak would quickly find an indication of a life lived to the north or east. I’ve made an icebreaker US football analogy about working my way through the NFC East. My digital footprint is sprinkled with some hints that although I live in Texas now, I’m not from here. Since you’re reading this blog post, scroll up to the photo at the top of the page. You’ll see that same bridge on my LinkedIn profile. Recognize it? If you think it is somewhere in Texas, guess again. It is the bridge portion of the Robert Moses Causeway on Long Island. Robert Moses was an urban planner who is regarded as one of the most powerful and influential individuals in the history of New York, despite never having held an elected office. The Robert Moses Causeway (or as the locals affectionately call it, the Bobby Mo) connects West Islip to the barrier beach islands. My high school was a few yards from the bridge, and my family would sail toward it on frequent sailing excursions. It serves as a nice reminder of my Long Island roots.

Do you know where the title of this blog post comes from? Here’s a hint. It is the last line spoken on the first side of an album that was released 50 years ago this year. And I’ve visited the site of the album cover.