Only a quarter of white Americans have a friend of color. And for most, their first meaningful interaction with someone of a different racial background will be in the workplace. This explains why I felt like an outsider during the majority of my corporate career in U.S. white-run organizations: my colleagues simply didn’t know what to make of me. My distinct name and unfamiliar accent gave rise to my white colleagues inadvertently reminding me…I was another. This “othering” phenomenon is a direct result of over relying on cultural competency, and not cultivating cultural humility. Let me explain: It’s long struck me how many white Americans have commented on how weird, quirky, or “different” they think Indian people are, right in front of me — a Singaporean of Indian descent. It seemed they wanted to show how much they knew about Indian culture from watching tv shows about Indian people, or travels or business relationships. Unfortunately, their observations always came out in amusement and condescension. It made me profoundly uncomfortable. And their follow up never helped: “oh, but you’re not really Indian” (because I don’t have the kind of accent they expect? Because I’m Singaporean? I've been told both of this and other explanations.) I think they meant that as a compliment, to signal to me that I was “one of them.” They were banking on me having the cultural competency to understand why they found Indian people quirky and weird, and that I’d laugh along. But it was never funny, and it was always demeaning. The problem is cultural competency I believe we all have a personal responsibility to be respectful of others, but I’m not casting all the blame for this behavior on my individual colleagues. The problem is greater than any one person, and it’s the notion of cultural competency itself. Being competent in your understanding of other backgrounds and cultures while still clinging to the notion that you’re of the superior culture is NOT the same as being respectful, open-minded, curious or empathetic. The successful addition of other cultures, genders, and backgrounds in your workplace requires more than just accommodation. It takes some humility as well. This can be as simple as taking the time to pronounce a colleague's name properly. Or recognizing that you DON’T know everything about the culture of others and being open to learning while taking cues from other people, not assuming how they'll behave. This is why I recommend we strive for cultural humility over competency. This mindset shift primes us to understand different cultures not from detached amusement or “othering”, but from a place of empathizing with people, letting their expertise and leadership shine through. It asks us to understand that people’s wants and needs, comforts and preferences and practices could be different, but of equal importance, if not more than the dominant culture’s. Cultural humility demands us to share power. One of my favorite visual examples of the difference between cultures (in this case, eastern and western cultures, broadly speaking) comes from the artist Yang Liu. Having lived in both, I love how spot-on this is. AND, I don’t see one as better than the other. In fact, so much of the eastern way of doing things, particularly centering a collective vs individual approach, has unique merit especially right now. To that end, it is both our individual and collective responsibility to do better at being inclusive in the workplace. This requires constantly interrupting our instinctive approach to a situation, and cultural humility helps. Remember: inclusion doesn’t happen naturally. It takes daily intentional acts to ensure a diverse and inclusive workplace today and tomorrow. Now, I’d love to hear from you: Have you ever felt like an outsider at work due to a cultural, racial, or gender (or any combination of the three) difference? On the other side, have you experienced someone who showed cultural humility when learning from and about you? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

It’s amazing — but also clearly a lesson I need to keep learning again — how different I feel after I rest. I was lucky enough to have my mum, sister, and baby niece visiting me from Singapore, this May. Taking time off work to enjoy their company nourished my mind, heart, and soul. I’ll be honest, it was hard to say I was taking a month off. Just 8 weeks after my book launch. When the number of inquiries I’m getting are at an all-time high. When the number of community members writing to me to share feedback about my book has reached levels I couldn’t even imagine! But I’m so glad I did. And thank you for your patience with my slow responses! I quickly had to draw on those nourished reserves. Rest is important for everyone, but this month it’s particularly critical, especially for people of color. Racist murders in Dallas and Buffalo are recent examples of the kind of mass violence that has always targeted people of color. When racist violence occurs, I have to draw deeply on my reserves to keep showing up and doing the emotionally taxing work of creating inclusive workplaces. Then, there was the senseless, unspeakable murder of children in Uvalde, Texas. I have no words. Doing this work can be quite daunting. Facing the continued mass violence we see in society, heartbreaking, to say the least. That’s another reason why I’m glad I rested this month in the company of my young niece, A. A photo of my son, V, and my niece, A, walking together holding hands. What gives me inspiration and hope is the recognition that generations after me will not have to struggle as much with inequality as I did and certainly not as much as people in generations past. Spending time with A has given me a renewed sense of purpose. At just sixteen months, A is strong-minded, strong-willed, and not afraid to ask for exactly what she wants. Growing up in a traditional Indian community, those were the exact attributes I was told to abandon. It’s taken decades for me to unlearn these messages. I still catch myself slipping back sometimes. But being around A reminded me that my purpose is to create a world that cheers and celebrates when the voices of girls and women of color are expressed boldly, unabashedly, loudly. It was also meaningful to watch my own son learn that the way his young cousin acts is the norm. I want to ensure he’s seeing something different from what I heard loud and clear, that boys could act however they wanted, but girls couldn’t (and that gender was only a binary concept.) I am beyond delighted that my son and my niece will see people of all genders advocating for themselves and being themselves, no matter what. Tell me (if you want to, I know it’s been a hard month) how you’re taking time to rest, and who inspires you to keep doing your work, especially when it’s hard. Your responses always make my day, and I look forward to hearing from you on this deeply important topic. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I grew up subscribing to the ideals of meritocracy. I was born in Singapore, a tiny island-city-state founded on the principle that if you work hard, your gender, skin color, and socioeconomic status won’t matter. I worked hard all through school, attended a top university in London, and then went to the world’s most recognized graduate school for a master’s in journalism. Frankly, I had a naive view of the world: if you work hard and are smart enough, you could overcome any chips that are stacked against you. Then I entered the workforce. More than ever before, I saw gender and racial bias in full form — not cloaked in any way. It was particularly egregious in the technology industry. To give just one example: a leader’s entry-level, all-white millennial, female team was referred to as his “harem.” 🤢 I had no idea when I entered the workforce that I would be discriminated against. I now recognize my naiveté as part of my privilege as an Asian woman — few Black, Indigenous and Latinx women I’ve spoken to in the United States harbored the same delusions. My own views on meritocracy and privilege changed dramatically after my experiences. This mindshift is why I wrote Inclusion on Purpose. And when I read this story from reader and fellow Singaporean Dayla S., my heart soared. We do not know each other, by the way. THIS is why my work — and the work of the women of color whose stories are in my book, the work of so many DEI leaders before and with us — matters. It matters because we can and do change. I share Dayla’s and my stories here because we can all learn and grow. No matter your background, the time you grew up in, or your own personal experience, you can learn to identify bias and privilege and work to undo it. Whether you have experienced it personally or not. You can learn to see meritocracy for the facade that it is, and dismantle it through your actions. I am not exaggerating. Dayla, thank you so much for your openness, candour, and vulnerability in sharing your personal journey and realizations. I am so moved that Inclusion on Purpose is part of your learning and growth. Thank you for reading and thank you for sharing! What’s an experience you’ve had that shifted your perception of privilege, bias, or meritocracy? (It doesn’t have to be my book! I’m not fishing for compliments 😉. In fact, I’d love to hear what’s opened your mind so I can add them to my read/watch/listen list.) Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I’m often expected to be grateful for what I’m offered. I also risk facing harsher penalties if I try to negotiate a raise or salary offer. That’s the reality for many immigrants and women of color in the United States. It’s why I didn’t even consider negotiating an author advance when I pitched my first book in 2015 — especially since I didn’t have an agent to represent me. I did, however, have an agent five years later when Inclusion on Purpose went to auction. And honestly? I’ve wondered if having a young woman of color represent me resulted in receiving a lower offer than my white peers. I’m thrilled to have an amazing agent bat for me and I also know that she navigates similar challenges as me. Consider the whiteness of the publishing industry: 85% of acquisitions editors are white and nearly 90% of books published are by white authors, according to a 2020 New York Times piece. Now factor in that negotiation as a practice favors those who are already (over)represented in the industry and workforce. Can you guess the results? Exactly: Women and people of color authors get lowballed for their books and intellectual property. Two-time National Book Award winner, Jesmyn Ward, a Black woman, drove this home when her viral social media campaign #PublishingPaidMe revealed the disparity in book advances received by white and Black authors. She herself had to “wrestle” her way to a $100,000 advance despite her accolades, while Chip Cheek, a white man, tweeted receiving $800,000 for his debut. Eight. Hundred. Thousand. Dollars. For. His. Debut. That makes it clear who publishing companies think are “worth” taking a chance on. Book advances can mean the difference between an author taking years off to concentrate wholly on their book and hiring professionals to help in their journey, and an author writing while taking care of their out-of-school toddler while running their business full time. My case was the latter. I’ve dedicated my life to creating inclusive workplaces, and it was particularly painful to see exclusion playing out in my own journey as an author. Authors of color are simply not given the same opportunity to succeed as their white counterparts. If we want a better future for the industry—one that more meaningfully reflects the diversity of voices in the world and one where authors of color aren’t undervalued, then the publishing industry must change. I have four recommendations to drive this change, and you can read them in Publishers Weekly. Ridding the publication industry of discrimination is an ambitious endeavor, I know. But if we consistently challenge the legacy of racism and bias in the industry (and others), we’ll get there. If we prioritize doing the right thing over remaining in our comfort zone, we’ll get there. If we act intentionally with continued awareness, we’ll get there. Now, I want to hear from you! Have you ever been the recipient of an offer that you felt didn’t line up with what you feel you’re worth? How did you navigate that? Or maybe after reading this you see where you may have been more generous with authors based on factors other than their merit? Let me know what you think. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

My book Inclusion On Purpose was rejected by 30 publishers. And all it takes is ONE good yes. ONE good yes later, and Inclusion on Purpose is a #1 Amazon bestseller in several categories, sold out its initial print run and has been featured and wholeheartedly recommended as a must-read on Dare to Lead with Brené Brown (pinch me — and keep scrolling for the link!). One good yes later, and I am among the scant 11% of published authors of color. But while they were happening, those 30 rejections hurt. And to protect myself from the sting, my agent, Maile and I agreed that I wouldn’t read any of the rejection feedback. The book ultimately went into auction and I’m proud to be published by MIT Press. And, two years after Maile initially shopped my book proposal, I became curious about what was in those rejections. She finally sent me all 30 of them (with publishers and names removed!). Three trends stand out to me as I mull over these publishers’ pushback, and I want to share them with you: 1. One Book Is NOT Enough I was surprised by how many of the 30 publisher rejections cited some variation of: “we already have a book about diversity and inclusion.” This highlights a belief that is deeply flawed: “one book on DEI is enough.” Really? One book on the topic that, because of a global racial reckoning sparked off in 2020 by the tragic murder of George Floyd and others, forced organizations large and small to take action (even when it was reluctant or poorly executed)? One book on the topic that leads to greater financial return and innovation in business? One book on the most urgent leadership topic of this century? How could one book per publisher possibly be enough, when everyone needs guidance on diversity, equity, and inclusion? This belief utterly fails to capture the nuance and complexity of DEI not only at work, but through all layers of our lives. Furthermore, one book on DEI by a woman of color is not enough, either. One rejection spelled out this flavor of the “one is enough” belief: “I just won a big auction for a career book by a woman of color. Her book is not exactly parallel to Ruchika’s proposal, but there are distinct similarities.” There should be as many choices for diversity and inclusion books by women of color (we are not a monolith!) as there are leadership or life-hack books written by white men. Which leads me to… 2. Diversity is for EVERYONE Another flawed belief that came through the publisher rejections is that diversity is “hard to publish” or a “niche market.” In other words: “inclusion doesn’t apply to a general audience.” Let me be clear: cultivating inclusion on purpose applies to EVERYONE. And while my book addresses it in a workplace context, big change comes from people acting across their lives to become more aware and responsible for inclusion. We need countless more books about work, school, art, neighborhood associations, community centers, politics, and more, written by and centering the experiences of people of color, especially women of color. DEI books need to be everywhere people are. 3. Words without Action are Empty One more trend stood out as I reviewed the pushback from 30 publishers: many mentioned that they admire and support my work. Some were even extremely effusive about how amazing I was. This is kind and flattering. But it reminds me of something I noticed when I started my company in 2017: words without action are empty. When I started Candour, I went out on dozens of coffee dates and lunches, taking out colleagues to show respect for their time and to strengthen our professional relationships. All were supportive with their words. “What a great idea!” they told me. But when I’d ask for solid introductions to potential clients or to be hired, most of those same people ghosted me completely. They did not put their money where their mouth was. It’s my experience that women of color receive plenty of “we believe in you!” mentorship and advice… and the support stops there. Such words mean next to nothing. Action means everything. I suspect it goes without saying, but I want to say it anyway: I’m so grateful I didn’t give up. I am so glad I didn’t read those rejections when they came in (thank you, Maile, for advising me not to read them while I was feeling raw.) And I am SO grateful, more than I can say, for the support and encouragement YOU’VE shown me and my book these past few months. I also hope this reminds you to nevertheless persist – your story matters in whichever way you want to tell it – when you may be hearing “no” from gatekeepers. I want all of us to win. And we can, when we keep pushing those barriers down together. Now, I want to hear from you: have you persevered through rejection to that ONE good yes? Have you experienced the trends above yourself? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

Tell me if this sounds familiar: “I’m so supportive of what you’re doing. I’d love to have you join a training program we recently launched for [insert women, people of color, women of color]. It meets for six hours a week over Zoom and teaches you [insert some aspect of business].” That familiar statement comes from my colleague (and shero!) S. Mitra Kalita in her TIME column, The Problem with Training Programs Targeting People of Color. She shares her observation that DEI efforts are increasingly targeting people of color, rather than the privileged individuals and power systems that led to being historically underestimated. I’ve noticed this troubling trend, too. And as I shared with her for the article, it stems from the mentality that underestimated individuals “need a handout.” PSA: We don’t. One more time for the people in the back: We don’t need handouts. What we need is for our talents and accomplishments to be fully recognized for what they are. The problem with efforts that focus on “up-leveling” women of color, people of color, or other groups is THIS underlying message: you’re the problem. You need to change to fit into the dominant culture/power structure/expectations that exist and were created by and for white men. No, no, one million times no! The problem is not underestimated people. The problem is the systematic inequalities that leave us out of leadership and opportunities. People of color don’t need to be saved by initiatives, programming, or training workshops. There are better ways to show support for us: Money. Access to networks. Introductions. Transparency, for example, “here’s how this person operates, and here’s how to land this deal.” Opportunities. Money. Did I mention money? There’s a word that describes how to support us, one I’m happy to see more and more often: sponsorship. We need more sponsorship of people of color — particularly by white men. Because the reality is that three-quarters of senior leaders pick protégés who look like them. And since the majority of corporate leaders are white men, well… you do the math. The result? Many women of color don’t get sponsored for career-making opportunities, leading to hostile work environments and cultures and attrition. It’s not a situation that training programs for women of color will solve. As I wrote in Inclusion on Purpose, “Women of color do not need special accommodations to excel (not even close); what we need is the unwavering belief in our potential to succeed and being offered opportunities to prove our capabilities, like our white counterparts.” Now, I want to hear from you: can you relate!? Have you noticed an increase in programming for “improving” people of color? What’s your view of it? Have you been on the receiving end of S. Mitra’s story at the top? Have you been sponsored by someone, or sponsored someone, who looks different from you? If so, what did you learn? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I––like so many of you––was overcome with emotion when I heard that Ketanji Brown Jackson’s appointment to the Supreme Court of the United States was confirmed. What an exciting, history-making moment! And at the same time, what a painful process to watch. While there’s nothing new about a woman of color having to reestablish her authority again and again and AGAIN, it didn’t make it any less hard to watch. And while it was beautiful and gratifying to see Justice Jackson triumph, it was also a (re)traumatizing experience for many women of color. The process reaffirmed two big learning opportunities for me: one good and the other….not so much. A model for business leaders: Name who is missing I had the honor of speaking about Justice Jackson’s nomination with reporter Ephrat Livni for the New York Times’ DealBook. What stood out to me is the intentionality President Biden has shown in naming who is missing. He’s been clear since his run for president that he would intentionally nominate a Black woman to the Supreme Court. Organizations and their leaders can learn from that: name who’s not represented. When we aren’t intentional and explicit about increasing representation, we default to our biases. The result? A pledge to “hire for more diversity” becomes hiring a few more white women, and little changes. I appreciate that President Biden didn’t shy away from naming the need for Black women to be represented in the Supreme Court. I urge leaders in other sectors to follow his lead. The “Pet to Threat” Phenomenon But, once you name who is missing and commit to having them represented, you really, really have to show you have their back. I really am excited about Justice Jackson’s confirmation. I and many others hope this will lead to our Supreme Court’s decisions reflecting the true diversity of this country. But amid the celebrations, we can’t forget the way she was treated (particularly when you compare the confirmation hearings of Justice Brett Kavanaugh). Dr. Kecia M. Thomas’ groundbreaking work on the “Pet to Threat” phenomenon comes to mind. As Erika Stallings quotes Dr. Thomas: “I think in every career trajectory there comes an opportunity for a promotion or leadership, where the individual has a level of influence or power to make significant changes and to rethink how business is done. That’s when women are probably most vulnerable to getting recast as threatening, because their colleagues are pushing back on the person legitimately exerting their influence in the workplace” (my emphasis). An overqualified woman of color getting unanimous support for a District Court nomination but becoming a “threat” when she’s an exemplary Supreme Court nominee is a prime example. If you are appalled by the way the confirmation hearings progressed, please do the urgent work of looking around you and reflecting on how often this happens in your workplaces all day, every day, and your role in being a vocal champion and the person who shuts down bias. Now, I want to hear from you! Have you witnessed the “pet to threat” phenomenon unfold in your own career or a colleagues’? Or, have you seen someone intentionally and explicitly identify who’s representation is missing at work or in leadership? Please share your stories! Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I received some disappointing feedback recently. After a presentation I was excited about, I learned that one of my favorite cartoons was alienating to an ally who cared about inclusion. Their anonymous feedback after the event was to do away with the cartoon if I wanted to make the change I was hoping to. The cartoon in question is by Will McPhail, and features a woman of color sitting across the desk from a large group of white men, being asked to “describe what she brings to the company.” It’s just perfect: I love this cartoon because it beautifully illustrates what many women of color (including myself) face, not only in the hiring process but throughout our careers. We’re constantly asked to reestablish our authority, to defend what we bring to the table, and justify how our diversity and differences contribute to the company – in meetings, in pitches and proposals, whether we work for a small organization, a large corporation or even, ourselves. Let me reiterate: this was my REAL experience in a number of interviews in corporations. Many, many women of color face this all the time. I recorded a short video to share what this feedback brings up for me, and I’ve written my thoughts below: Ally is a Verb, not a Noun We need to move away from the idea that an ally is something you “are,” an identity you can put on as easily as a pair of shoes. No. Ally is not an identity, it’s what you do. Acting as an ally means practicing advocacy, co-conspiracy, allyship, or being a “success partner” (as my friend Minda Harts calls it). It goes by many terms, but always it’s focused on action. To practice allyship means asking: How and how often do you amplify women of color? How do you ensure women of color are paid appropriately (which always means equally)? How do you ensure that our thought leadership and expertise get full credit? How do you intervene when someone asks a woman of color to reestablish her authority or defend what she brings to the table? Ally is not someone you are, it's what you do. Defensiveness and Discomfort Look, I get it. Talking about diversity, equity, inclusion, and bias in a meaningful way at work is uncomfortable. In fact, if you're doing it right, it's going to cause discomfort — guaranteed. When you are shown images or you hear stories about bias and discrimination and racism, it’s really important to lay down your defenses. When your friend or colleague tells you about a time that they experienced bias or racism or discrimination, it's really important to lay down your defenses. When you feel defensiveness come up, think deeply. Consider, why are you feeling uncomfortable? What is it telling you? Try viewing your discomfort as a green light, rather than the red light it might feel like at first. Discomfort is a positive sign of your openness to change and your willingness to grow. Even though discomfort is, by definition, uncomfortable, that doesn’t mean it’s bad! Make a commitment to believe what you see or hear about someone experiencing bias or discrimination, even if you don’t totally understand or can’t personally relate. And always, always call upon your empathy. The cartoon above truly is the experience of many women of color and people with other underestimated identities in the workplace. You must embrace that reality before you can effectively make change. If a cartoon makes you uncomfortable, could you perhaps empathize with the discomfort we feel walking into the room as the first or only, and being asked in subtle and overt ways: “describe what you bring to this company?” What do you think? So as you can surely guess, I’m not going to stop using this cartoon in my presentations. If this feedback is constructive for anyone, I believe it’s the person who gave it. Also, I want to say a huge thank you to Will McPhail! Your cartoon is truly one of the best illustrations of this reality. As far as I understand you present as a white man, so I really appreciate you picking up this nuance which is so much part of our lives as women of color in the workplace and in society. So thank you! Now I’d love to hear your thoughts, especially if you’ve worked in the DEI field and received this kind of pushback. Please comment and let me know what you think. What are the ways you’ve dealt with feedback like this? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I love hearing from you. I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it: getting responses and feedback from readers is more meaningful to me than I can say! It’s always enriching and humbling, and makes me feel deeply connected. As more readers finish Inclusion on Purpose, it’s been a joy hearing their takeaways and insights. I can’t believe it’s been a whole month since launch! And it’s made me reflect on: what are my top takeaways from my book, now that I’ve had space from it? Of course, there are the big ones: center women of color. Actively practice inclusion. Take responsibility for creating an environment where everyone can belong. But there are other, less-obvious ones, and today I wanted to share them with you: Focus on culture add “Culture fit” is exclusionary and biased. It makes sense: If your organization is made up of white men, then you’re consciously or unconsciously going to pattern match for a “culture fit.” Think back to the last time you talked about whether someone is a “culture fit”. What made them — or did not make them — a fit? The more trouble you have articulating this, the more likely your judgment is biased. Instead, seek to hire people you don’t already see represented, by race, gender, educational background, experience, country of origin, languages spoken, and other identities. Build empathy through reading fiction Stanford research shows there’s an inverse relationship between privilege and empathy. That means the more privilege you have, it’s generally harder to empathize with the experiences of others. So, leaders must develop empathy by constantly self-educating and building awareness of what different people are facing. The Greater Good Science Center at Berkeley published phenomenal research on cultivating empathy. One of their research-backed recommendations surprised me: read fiction. Stories change us, and powerful stories often stay in our minds longer than data. Seek out stories from different cultures–written by authors from those backgrounds. Recently, I’ve read three works of fiction that greatly influenced me: Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi, Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata, and Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. What are yours? Cultivate cultural humility Cultural competency is outdated. What we need is the cultivation of cultural humility. What’s the difference? Cultural competency means learning about other cultures while retaining the idea that your culture is dominant. Cultural humility means recognizing that you do not know everything about another’s culture, and that there may be a lot to learn from it. Cultural humility is particularly useful for leaders working with women of color. One small, but powerful, way to cultivate cultural humility is prioritizing the correct pronunciation of a colleague’s name. Cultural humility reminds us that all names are meaningful to their owner, so stumbling through an unfamiliar name for your own ease or comfort is unacceptable. Cultural competency is broad and fixed, while cultural humility allows for nuance and flexibility. It prompts us to observe visual cues, not just verbal ones. I share more detail about my top takeaways from Inclusion on Purpose here with the Next Big Idea Club if you’d like to read (and hear me read them) further. And now, of course I want to hear from you! If you’ve read Inclusion on Purpose (thank you!), what are your top takeaways? Or more broadly, what’s a favorite insight you’ve learned from a woman of color you admire and follow? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I think often about what’s considered “professional” or “authentic” in workplace culture. Certain hairstyles. Certain names. Certain clothes. A certain language, work ethic, body language, emotional expressions. The result? Workplaces that are unwelcoming, uncomfortable, and downright hostile to those who don’t fit. Coincidence? Not really. These markers are exclusionary by design — and if you’re reading this, I know you know who they were designed to alienate, and who they were designed to embrace. Professionalism and authenticity are long overdue for a rebrand. That rebrand must specifically center the experience of women of color to kickstart change that benefits ALL employees across the board. Below are some of my favorite, most impactful resources for understanding why these efforts are essential for the modern workplace: The Bias of ‘Professionalism’ Standards, by Aysa Gray When I read this article, the person in the next room probably thought I was losing my mind: I shouted ‘yes’ and ‘finally!’ pretty much throughout reading it. I still do when I re-read it for the billionth time. It puts into perspective the lesser spoken about (but most people of color know exactly what this refers to) pressures of ‘professionalism’—like perfectionism, punctuality, speech, accent, and dress—that all point to a coded bias towards whiteness and Western-ness. To create an inclusive environment (really), we must recognize and work against only having one acceptable way of doing things. The Myth of Bringing Your Full, Authentic Self to Work, by Jodi-Ann Burey [WATCH] Jodi-Ann Burey is an extraordinary leader and her TED talk so poignantly captures the experience so many people of color have at work. Too many workplaces say they want everyone to bring their authentic selves to the workplace, only to penalize employees from underestimated backgrounds for doing just that. This is a must watch! (P.S.) Jodi-Ann and I co-wrote the viral article Stop Telling Women They Have Imposter Syndrome, one of Harvard Business Review’s most popular articles of all time. What Is White Privilege? by John Amaechi [WATCH] Two minutes and thirty-one seconds that will change your life. Just watch it, seriously, and pass it on. I curated other resources you can read, watch and listen to around redefining professionalism and authenticity for Get Pocket. They’re all worth your time! And I go into much more detail about this in my new book, Inclusion on Purpose. Now, I want to hear from you in the comments. What makes YOU feel authentic and professional (no matter what your boss or workplace would say)? Let’s celebrate and elevate how YOU embody professionalism and authenticity. I’ve shared an example of my own below (and it relates to this picture!), and I’d love to hear yours. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

The first time a coworker commented on my “unpronounceable” name, they insisted it was a compliment. But I didn’t feel complimented. I felt uncomfortable. This was before the term “microaggression” became widespread. When it did, I knew this term captured the essence of how I felt, describing the everyday putdowns, insults, or offensive “compliments” from well-meaning white peers. It’s powerful to have a commonly understood term to articulate these issues and address the way they impact underestimated people. But. These exclusionary, biased actions are anything but “micro.” The real issue is the cumulative effects of hearing something about your difference called out every day, in seemingly benign ways. That’s why we must stop using the term “microaggressions” to describe them. Why “Microaggressions” Doesn’t Work The term “microaggression” doesn’t truly capture the biased action’s emotional and material effects or how they impact women and people of color’s career progressions. It’s never about just one slight, just one “cut.” It’s death by a thousand cuts, in the form of slights you hear every day, multiple times a day. The use of “micro” in the term minimizes the actions’ harmful effects. It also prioritizes the comfort of those in the majority by centering their intentions instead of their impacts. Instead, I prefer the term “exclusionary or biased behaviors.” Be Curious but Thoughtful I’m not saying never ask questions about each other’s names or heritage or culture. But there’s a time and place for conversations about a person’s identity, especially in the workplace. Going up to someone on their first day of work to ask, “what are you?” is never the right approach. It’s a dehumanizing way to express curiosity about someone’s background. But even if you ask more tactfully, a conversation about identity and background in the middle of a meeting has a very different tenor than at a casual networking event or over a work lunch. The former relates, “I demand answers to my questions that don’t impact the work we’re going to do together.” The latter communicates, “I’m genuinely curious and interested in you and want to take some time to get to know you. I’m also inviting your questions about me.” Recognizing this difference requires cultivating empathy, especially if your experience in the majority wouldn’t make anyone question your background, ability, or competence. If someone tells you that something you said was biased or a microaggression, apologize sincerely, seek to understand why it may have been harmful (sometimes, they may tell you; other times, it’s up to you to do your own homework), and then refrain from doing it again. When we brush off “microaggressions,” we minimize the huge impact they have on underrepresented and marginalized employees. To make change, we must first be able to name, recognize, and acknowledge the harm exclusionary behaviors cause. What do you think of the term “microaggression”? What would be a more accurate alternative for you? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

Sometime last week, in the midst of all the chaos around promoting Inclusion on Purpose, it dawned on me that I was making a big mistake. I felt like I was sharing so much about my new book online (#authorlife), I didn’t want to overwhelm you with content. So I took a hiatus from emailing you, believing that you would appreciate not being bothered by me. But last week I began to realize: I really miss hearing from you. I always look forward to hearing from you. What I love most about sending these emails that you can just hit reply, and I can hear directly from you. I always look forward to your stories. So, please excuse me for not connecting with you–directly and openly–which is precisely why I set up this newsletter last year in the first place. Thank you for being here with me on this journey. On to what’s on my mind. It’s Equal Pay Day. Sigh. You’re likely being bombarded today with hot takes on this earlier-than-usual date. Does it signify progress? Progress for whom? And when is “Equal Pay Day” for Black women? Indigenous women? Asian women who are not in high-earning jobs? Latinx women? (And even among those groups, how might colorism impact pay?) Whew! It’s a lot, I know. I encourage you to read the journalism and reporting (particularly by women of color) about this day and what it means for our world. As for me, I’ll offer two insights that I suspect may not be covered widely in the larger discussion about pay equity today: 1. Saying No to Unpaid Labor Recently, I received an invitation to speak for free at an event. I responded with these words: "Unfortunately, I'm unable to accommodate unpaid requests as a matter of principle, to stand against the unpaid labor women of color are too often expected to complete." When I shared this on LinkedIn last week, I was astonished by the response! So many thoughtful people chimed in with their scripts for responding to such requests, and many asked to borrow mine. Please do! It makes a difference to have a response prepared. It cuts back on any anxiety or uncertainty you may feel about your response, and eliminates decision-making about how to respond. These small “short cuts” add up over time; not only in protecting ourselves but in delivering a consistent message to the world about what we stand for–and paying it forward so that it becomes even more normalized to not ask women of color to work for free. 2. Equal Credit Equal Pay is not only a matter of dollars and cents. Compensation takes many forms, and credit is one of them. Women and women of color in particular are often denied the opportunity to do the work that is recognized and celebrated in an organization (yes, I’m referencing “office housework!”) Meanwhile white men largely get the advancement opportunities and credit. While a gap exists even in the recognition that white women receive compared with white men, white women are still more likely to be in high-visibility positions compared with women of color. This is why I center the experiences of women of color in my work and in my book Inclusion on Purpose. As I write in the book: “The intersection between gender and race/ethnicity uniquely impacts women. While women all over the world are at a disadvantage in society and workplaces compared with men, the intersection between gender and race is a key differentiator between women’s experiences. Taking an intersectional lens to equality becomes paramount because racism deeply compounds the bias women of color experience.” If you’re a woman, woman of color, or person with other underestimated identities, you’ve almost certainly experienced a lack of “equal credit.” I’m talking about your ideas being ignored in meetings until a white man repeats them; your raised hand being overlooked in an audience; your name listed last––if at all––on a group project. I share 5 ways that people with privilege can take action to give credit where due, here. So now, my favorite part. I would love to hear from you. What does Equal Pay Day mean to you, if anything? Do you think it’s useful? What’s your experience with saying “no” to unpaid labor, or getting “equal credit”? And if you’ve read the book, thank you!! Please consider leaving a review on Amazon. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.