When I worked in corporate, it took very little time for me to realize I was expected to do a disproportionate amount of “office housework.” Whether it was ordering lunch, sharing meeting notes, or scheduling, I — often the only woman of color in the room — was like the de facto secretary, as if we were in an episode of Mad Men. (I’m not throwing shade on any person who works in these important roles, by the way. It is vital and valuable work! The problem? It wasn’t my role.) If you’re a woman of color, you know this all too well. And while I refuse to put the onus on us to “fix” this problem, I want to help women of color confidently say “no” in these situations at work. Without further ado, I’m sharing advice from successful women (of color) — including some of your comments! — to say a strategic “no” to office housework requests without being penalized: 1. Arm yourself with evidence. Make a list of revenue-generating tasks you’re responsible for, as well as all the non-revenue generating expectations placed on you. Create similar lists for men at the same level in your organization, and take those lists to your boss. 2. Check with your manager. You can always double-check with your managers if you’re asked to take on non-essential work. If your boss agrees that the task isn’t necessary or worth your time, it’s easier to avoid the backlash from saying no. 3. Use humor. I’m not humorous by nature, but making light of the situation has helped me. I once responded, “I’d rather John ordered lunch as I’m already in charge of meals at home,” then cracked a smile. My friend Selena Rezvani had this suggestion for a humorous comeback: “Research shows that I’m more likely to get asked to do this kind of thing than you, and that you’re going to like me less when I decline. But guess what I’m going to do?” 😉 4. Practice saying no with allies. Unsurprisingly, it gets easier to say “no” with practice! Cultivating such a network of allies becomes particularly important for women of color as we progress. Enlist colleagues to help you figure out collectively how to refuse office housework requests in a manner that feels authentic to you. 5. Virtual office housework is still...office housework. The usual suspects like ordering lunch and planning office birthdays went away, and were swiftly replaced by organizing virtual happy hours and sending calendar invites for team meetings. Take stock if you're disproportionately getting stuck with the virtual (often even more invisible than the in-office kind) office housework. Then suggest a rotation system. This could look like: "I've been scheduling all the virtual meetings this week, I'd like to rotate through each team member to take it on weekly. John, you in for next week?" BONUS! In a previous Inclusion Is Leadership, readers shared some of their own tips for refusing office housework. I’m sharing them here! Say “no” and give a reason - Uma Thana Balasingam If you’re asked to take on office housework, do it once graciously, then work behind the scenes to ensure the task is rotated among your coworkers. Then, seek out career-enhancing assignments. Filling your plate with high-value work empowers you to turn down undervalued work. You might say, “I’d love to help, but I’m working with Ted on an important strategic initiative. Joe would be perfect for this.” Stand up for others first - Dr. Jacqueline Kerr If you don't have the confidence to do it for yourself, stand up and point it out when it happens to others. This might be an easier first step, and maybe another woman will see your example and do the same for you or someone else. Advice for white men - Paolo Gaudiano My advice to other white men is to start paying attention and you will be surprised to realize how often this happens. If you witness this, you are in a position to speak up! "Hey, it doesn't always seem fair to ask XYZ to do this, how about if we do a signup sheet and take turns?" or "Here, let me do that!" And if you are in charge of performance reviews, compensation or promotion, ask yourself: is this person contributing something that is not in the job description, but that is clearly beneficial to the company? What would we lose if they left the organization? If you’re asked to do a disproportionate amount of “office housework” at your job, it’s not your fault. This truth needs to be repeated, especially in a power structure that feeds off making you feel bad about the challenges you face. Pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps mythology is very good at making us feel like we’re the problem when we repeatedly hit roadblocks. Not on my watch. We must never stop calling for leaders to understand and work toward mitigating the impact of office housework on the careers of multicultural women. Nonetheless, I encourage all of us to exercise our right to say no to these requests. What’s your most-used tactic to say a firm “no”? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I grew up in a conservative culture, where I was taught — many times over — that there was no question that gender is binary. 🤯 For the record, I believe wholeheartedly now that gender isn’t binary. It seems absurd that I ever thought it was! But it took years of listening, reflecting and being uncomfortable with the reality that what I learned growing up was wrong to reach the understanding I have today. I wrote on LinkedIn last week about this problem: that our social networks aren’t diverse enough by gender identity, race, religion, class, and more. When you consider that most of us are surrounded by the same perspectives and ways of thinking, it’s no wonder that we harbor erroneous beliefs about other people into adulthood. It’s no wonder, but it’s also no excuse. We have the ability to change our minds, and we must. To do so we need to actively cultivate relationships with people different from us. These are some ways to start: Seek out differences intentionally. Prioritize seeking diversity–difference and especially connection with communities that have been historically marginalized–in the businesses you frequent, like buying from women- and minority-owned vendors. The next time you go out to eat or purchase a gift, take the extra time to source from businesses from underestimated communities. There are great resources to spend money more intentionally, including my friend Laura Clise’s fantastic guide, Intentionalist. Further, seek out diversity in your social circle. I’m not suggesting you tokenize anyone by befriending them just because they are from an underrepresented community (trust me, we can tell!) But next time you’re at an event, notice who you gravitate to — I bet they look like you! Challenge yourself to connect with someone different, and approach them with openness. An easy way to start a conversation, even online? Ask, “what are you reading these days?” or “tell me about yourself.” Seek out diversity professionally. We must also cultivate professional networks that are diverse in every way. For people who are hiring, I always recommend advertising job listings with identity-based networks. Don’t just list job openings on the company website, reach out to groups that focus on underrepresented groups — and there are many — like Black Girls Code or Society of Hispanic Professional Engineers. And take time to attend events that are focused on serving underestimated groups. Seek recommendations on which networks are community-serving and led by community leaders from a diverse group of people. Cultivating these networks allows you to draw upon them to more effectively diversify the workplace. Develop insight from a diverse slate of resources. To understand all the beautiful and fascinating ways we are different, seek out points of view that are different from your own. I’m talking about films, books, festivals, cultural events and media focused on a diversity of experiences and communities. When it comes to friendships and professional relationships, if someone shares an experience or opinion that is unfamiliar don’t shut it down. Listen without interruption or defensiveness, and thank them sincerely for sharing, especially if they are revealing something about their identity or heritage. Cultural awareness and understanding can’t only be developed when you’re surrounded by familiar perspectives. PSA: I am not recommending you engage with trolls or people who spread harmful ideas about underrepresented groups. What makes me hopeful. In my own work helping companies to develop strategies that foster diversity and inclusion, I’ve seen progress when white, male leaders regularly educate themselves and attend corporate events focused on advancing women or people of color. They learn to empathize with the barriers underestimated people face. One male leader I spoke to said reading So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo urged him to engage in tough but meaningful conversations about racial equality at work. A lack of diversity in your personal life can have unintended consequences when you get to the office, the school board, the neighborhood association. But intentional action to diversify who you engage within all areas of life leads to real change. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I grew up in a conservative culture, where I was taught — many times over — that there was no question that gender is binary. 🤯 Now I believe wholeheartedly that gender isn’t binary — what an absurd assumption to make! But it took years of listening, reflecting and being uncomfortable with the reality that what I learned growing up was wrong to reach the understanding of gender diversity that I have today. What changed? Well, my mind. An overlooked barrier to equity, inclusion and belonging To “change your mind” sounds simple, yet it’s anything but. (Again, it took me years to update my understanding about gender as a spectrum.) It’s challenging to acknowledge that our parents, religion, community and/or culture misled us. But it can be done — I see it happen all the time among clients, peers, even strangers online. But there’s a barrier that a lot of us struggle with. If we removed this barrier, I know our ability to embrace diversity with enthusiasm would accelerate. That barrier is: Your social network isn’t diverse enough. Let me explain: A 2013 survey found that three-quarters (75%) of white Americans said their social network was almost entirely white. By contrast, 65% of Black Americans reported their network was entirely comprised of Black people, and 46% of Hispanic Americans said their network was entirely Hispanic. A more recent study still found that 21% of white Americans reported “never or seldom” interacting with someone of a different race or ethnicity. And even among those who did frequently interact with someone of a different racial or ethnic background, 74% said those interactions happened at the workplace, compared with 46% saying those interactions were in friendship groups. That’s remarkable: less than half of us have friends of different backgrounds. This is despite the fact that the U.S. is becoming much more diverse as a country. Still, many Americans have neighbors of the same race, a lasting legacy of race-based segregation in neighborhoods and schools. So even if you attended a racially-diverse school or live in a multi-ethnic city, it’s likely that your views are largely be shaped by those who look like you. For me, exposure to racial diversity was a strong component of my early life and continues to be. What I lacked, instead, was exposure to people who identified across the gender spectrum. So, I remained ignorant about the diversity across genders until I consciously began to expand my social circle. Take a moment to imagine your social circle. Do most of them share the majority of your identities? How this barrier manifests in the workplace Given the lack of diversity in our social networks, it’s no wonder then that as we climb the professional ranks we lack the cultural competency to work with peers of different backgrounds. After all, we’ve had little (or no) practice! Sadly, we often default to stereotypes and biases to inform our interactions with people who are different from us. So when headlines like Some Black women feel safer working from home and are opting out of office life to escape workplace racism come across our desks, how can we be surprised? Creating a truly diverse and inclusive society — not to mention work environments! — requires that we all put in the listening, reflecting and being ok with being uncomfortable so we can change our minds. It requires us to develop our own awareness and understanding of personal and structural bias, by interacting with people different from those we’re used to — and we can’t confine that to the workplace. At its core, diversity, equity, and inclusion is linked deeply with understanding, engaging with, and collaborating with different people. We must diversify our social networks. I’ve seen and personally experienced many important mind shifts like the one I shared about the gender spectrum. Have you? There’s so much negative news about inclusion. Let’s shift the narrative by sharing our stories of becoming more open and welcoming of difference! Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

This is a story about clothes. And culture. And a memoir. And feeling seen. And — well, let me tell you the story: “Actually, I never wore saris” I’m reading the fantastic memoir My Life In Full by Indra Nooyi. She shares that during her consulting years in the 80s, she was asked not to join her team at client sites. Why? Because what would it look like to have an Indian woman in a sari on site!? Even when Ms. Nooyi became the CEO of PepsiCo, the press would often focus on her exoticism and the saris she “always” wore to work. She writes, “actually I almost never wore saris. Maybe they thought my scarf was a sari?” 😂😭🤷🏽‍♀️ The issues faced by one of the world's most powerful women feel too familiar for many women of color, even today. We can either hide our identities — the clothes, jewelry, hairstyles, and food that make us feel most authentic — or bring them to work and face the barrage of comments, looks, and lost opportunities because they — we — don’t fit in. So I wore a salwar-kurta to Google I thought of Ms. Nooyi when I addressed an audience last week of women in tech across Google’s Asia-Pacific region. It felt like a homecoming to speak to an audience in the region where I grew up! But I also felt nervous, because I decided to wear an Indian salwar-kurta (by the amazing Indian designer, Masaba). Even though they could only see my shoulders (it was a virtual event), it felt like a big decision. The way we dress has so much meaning — and risk. I remember growing up in Singapore (my Indian heritage is a minority there) and feeling worried about being stereotyped as someone who couldn’t fit in. Those feelings only increased when I moved to the United States. So I made my best effort to “dress the part.” And then, something like this would happen: I’d be waiting in the lobby for a meeting with a global organization. A group of white women employees would walk by wearing visibly ethnic accessories from countries in Africa or Asia. “I got this on my last trip to Tanzania,” one would say. The women would celebrate each other for styling these “exotic” clothes and jewelry and wearing them to the office. Yet these were overwhelmingly white organizations, where only white people could wear “exotic” clothes and not have it impact their perceived competency or “culture fit.” This kind of cognitive dissonance is common. Cultures with a history of colonialism are often comfortable extracting and appropriating pieces of culture from other places. But if I took my meeting wearing a sari or kurta, I’m confident I would be considered “not a good fit” for the organization. I see you. When will we — as a global community — reach a place where we can bring our full, authentic selves to work without being exoticised or seen as “not a fit”? That’s a trick question, because there’s no date and time I can give you as an answer. But this is what I know: As more women of color and underestimated people demand to be embraced as we fully are, and find solidarity with others like us and the allies who celebrate us, we will rise. Indra Nooyi won’t be the last immigrant woman of color CEO on the Fortune 500 list. Somedays, It feels like an uphill battle; I get that. And all the cumulative years of being asked to stay home from client sites, of belaboring our hair and accessories choices, they take their toll. After all, it felt revolutionary to wear an Indian kurta to an event in Asia! But you know what happened after I did? A woman who heard me speak messaged me. I could see from her profile picture that she wears a hijab (she shared how she, too, grew up as a minority in the country she’s from). She told me how much it meant to her to see a woman of color as her authentic self on a Google stage. I have days — we all do — when the uphill battle is exhausting. Days when I ask myself, why? That message from the Google employee who really saw me as myself? That is exactly why. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

It’s never up to you to “fix” systemic problems. Racism is not your fault. Sexism is not your fault. And neither is this unfortunate phenomenon at the intersection of both: women of color are overwhelmingly expected to do more “office housework” than their white and male peers. Office housework is the important but unthanked (and unpromotable) work that every organization needs — taking meeting notes, scheduling meetings, ensuring there are snacks in office...etc. The opposite of it is glamour work. Sound familiar? In fact, new research shows the non-promotable work for women has been supercharged in the pandemic. Last week on LinkedIn I wrote about how overburdening women of color with office housework holds back our careers and leaves us with two unwelcome options: 1. take on the housework and reinforce unfair expectations, or 2. say no and risk being penalized. 😒 The solution is to change the culture of our organizations. To make them truly inclusive so office housework is shared and compensated equitably among everyone, without question. But that takes time. And in the meanwhile, we still have our jobs to do! That’s why I’m sharing this roundup of advice from successful women of color with scripts to turn down and negotiate office housework requests without being penalized: 1. Have a watertight refusal ready. You might say: “I was hired to do X and doing Y would take away time from completing X well.” For on-the-spot requests like ordering lunch, I’ve used, “I need to be present during this discussion as it’s critical to what I’m working on.” For longer-term requests, like being asked to lead mentoring activities, I’ve said, “I’m working on [very important project], and I’m concerned I won’t have the bandwidth to be helpful to [said mentee.]” 2. Ask for more information. You can ask the requester why they’re specifically asking you to do this extra labor with, “why do you think I’m a good fit for this?” Having them tell you what traits make you best suited to do the work forces them to pause and consider why they requested you do the labor in the first place. It also gives you some time and space to gather your thoughts so you don’t feel pressured to say “yes” right away. 3. Rotate tasks. If your team meets regularly, suggest that you all rotate tasks like getting lunch, taking notes, and following up. You could say, “I took notes last week, so let’s set up a rotation.” This sets the expectation that everyone has equal value to contribute. 4. If you can’t say no, at least get credit for the work. Sometimes there’s no way to decline the work. When that happens, find a way to acknowledge that the work is “extra labor.” You want to make it clear in performance reviews and conversations with your manager that these chores are not part of your job description. 5. Use your influence to break norms. As you climb the ranks, make sure to pay it forward. When someone suggests that the smart new manager you’re mentoring could set up the booth at an expo, call out that it’s below their pay grade: “I don’t think that’s a good use of her experience and skills.” I hope this advice helps you in real-time. But it bears repeating: it’s imperative that leaders understand and work toward mitigating the impact of office housework on the careers of women of color. It’s not up to you to change the system. Nonetheless, I encourage all of us to exercise our right to say no to these requests. I’d love to hear your feedback: do you have a favorite suggestion? Have you used any on the list? Do you have any to add? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

On LinkedIn, I wrote about the challenges and perils of speaking up as a woman of color at work. The first step in addressing a problem is acknowledging it. Check. So now what? Where. Do. We. Go. From. Here? On the practical side, it can help to have some responses queued and ready, so that you’re prepared when you face bias at work: Interrupted in a meeting? “Just a sec, I’m going to finish my thought.” Some dude sharing the idea you just put forth? “Yes Bob, I said the same thing just now. Glad we’re on the same page.” Keep hearing someone else (a woman of color) being interrupted? “I’d really like to hear what Ria has to say, so please let her finish.” Getting microaggression-y comments about how you’re so aggressive/strong/assertive? “I’m glad you appreciate the way I advocate for myself. I take this same approach to advocating for my team/peers/customers/students...too.” No matter how ready your comeback, it’s so wrong to have to put up with this. And yet. And yet. You know what to do: you keep on speaking up, knowing that you’re confronting harmful stereotypes. Inclusive leadership is rarely glamorous and never Instagrammable. Rather, it’s leading by example, even (or especially) when you’re overworked, fed up, or heartbroken. Is it exhausting? Yes. Is it unfair? One hundred percent. But if there’s any silver lining to this heavy cloud, it’s that pushback proves that we’re doing it right. And the more of us push to create a culture that celebrates women of color’s voices, the more normalized it becomes in our culture. We’re here. We’re taking up space. We’re defying stereotypes (though we shouldn’t have to!) We’re producing brilliant, game-changing work. We’re not sorry. We’re making the workplace — and the world — brighter and easier for the people who are right behind us. I hope that gives you fire in your belly, just like it does for me. What obstacles have you faced when raising your voice at work as a woman of color? How do you support yourself to keep going? Hit reply and let me know — I would love to hear your stories. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

Imagine you’re having lunch with your boss on your first day in a new job. They tilt their head at you, perplexed. “But if you’re from Singapore,” they say. “How do you speak English without an accent?” SIGH. Many of you don’t have to imagine such a scenario — you can remember it like it was yesterday! (Unfortunately, it happens often enough.) There you are, bringing your experience, creativity and passion to a new role, and in a snap you’re reduced to your race, ethnicity, or gender. The perils of “speaking while female” exist for all women. And while I could never claim to speak for every woman of color, my research over nearly a decade confirms that there's a marked difference between speaking as a white woman versus as a woman of color. The unique challenges of “working as a woman of color” have become better-documented in recent years. And if you need a refresher, look no further than this headline: Some Black women feel safer working from home and are opting out of office life to escape workplace racism. Enough said. The Unintended Upside of Speaking Up As a Woman of Color But it’s not all doom-and-gloom. Sometimes speaking up as a woman of color can propel your career forward, and cultivate powerful relationships. I interviewed Michelle Y. Talbert in 2015, when she was one of three attorneys of color at her firm. One white male partner who she worked with most closely was "notoriously belligerent, however very smart." When Talbert, a Black woman, was publicly grilled by him in a meeting, she came prepared, didn't back down, and "did not show any aggression in response to his histrionics." It worked in her favor – Talbert enjoyed an "amazingly collegial mentor/mentee relationship" with the partner thereafter, and other attorneys respected her for making it through the wringer. To be clear, Dr. Ashleigh Shelby Rosette's research confirms that some Black women leaders are regarded positively when they display agentic behaviors like Talbert did, but concludes that the overall impact of bias against Black women supersedes these slight positive gains. We still need to focus on creating inclusive environments, especially for women of color. Where Do We Go From Here? In my next Inclusion Is Leadership, I’m sharing where we go from here, including practical responses so you have a “ready comeback” when you hear aggressive comments about your appearance, hair, accent, and more. No, you shouldn’t have to be prepared, but here we are. What have you heard after “speaking as a woman of color at work”? Have you gotten positive feedback, like Michelle Talbert did? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

It’s easy to wallow in self-pity when you get rejected. I caught myself doing it this week. So to ground myself, I took a trip down memory lane to 2017. Back then, the publication I wanted most deeply, truly, madly to write for was HBR.org (Harvard Business Review’s website). I was a voracious HBR reader for years. Every morning, I refreshed the homepage, hungrily reading the latest stories. I followed the editors on Twitter, tweeting quips back, trying to build a rapport. I asked around if anyone could make an introduction–but the few folks I knew who were connected were (understandably) reluctant. These relationships are hard-won! I pitched many times on the generic website form, but no one ever responded. Then, after nearly a year of trying to connect (and overcoming years of me telling myself I shouldn’t bother trying), their executive editor followed me back on Twitter. I tried to collect myself as I slid into her DMs (um, my cooler friends tell me this turn of phrase can be misinterpreted but it was strictly professional). She proceeded to say she was open to being pitched by me! When I sent a story idea, she said she’d be happy to read a draft. You can imagine how excited I was! I threw everything at it. But after several weeks of bated breath, she declined. I was absolutely crushed. So close and yet so far! After months of back and forth, another pitch and draft were finally accepted. The first article I wrote for HBR.org went live in April 2018! Fast forward three years and I’m proud to be a regular contributor and have great, trusting relationships with my editors there. I write this to reflect, celebrate and express gratitude. It’s easy to take for granted the doors we walk through that we once would have done anything to open for us. And sometimes, in a culture of always moving forward, of FOMO as we see others succeeding, of trying to work through yet another rejection (I’ve had several this year), it can be helpful to take stock of how far we’ve come. Why does this matter for inclusive leaders? Because the work we do can be hard, painful and lonely. Solve one “problem” and up spring another 100. Diversity, Equity, Inclusion work is like that. So many obstacles, so many rejections. I’m using the HBR example as one that hopefully we can all identify with…detailing a tangible goal I once had (write for HBR!), striving with all my heart and soul for it until I achieved it. But then sometimes I take that accomplishment for granted because I’m too busy looking ahead and licking my wounds from new rejections. Nothing wrong with looking ahead and acknowledging that rejection hurts. But on the days you feel dejected, frustrated or even just exhausted, remember to look back, too. What are the doors you now breeze past that you once wished would open? Can you take a few minutes today to reflect on how far you’ve come, to build rocket fuel for the journey ahead? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I recently saw a tweet (from 2019) that captured what I’ve observed everywhere in the past year: Bone-tired exhaustion. I’m observing this in peers, friends, loved ones and most of all, myself. Even on good days, when I’m working on things that give me joy, when I have a village to help with childcare, when life seems to cooperate, I feel like I’m permanently exhausted. Tweet in words: "Anyone can be tired. You don't need to have kids, work 80 hours a week, have just finished your third degree, or have just recovered from a bad illness. You don't have to prove to anyone why you're exhausted and tired. I hope you can get some rest and feel better soon." ―@EverydayGirlDad In our workplaces, this chronic stress is reaching alarming proportions. When 53% of women say their mental health is suffering to the point of burnout because of their jobs, we should listen. When nearly 10 million working women in America–disproportionately women of color–say they’re experiencing workplace burnout, we should listen. And yet, and yet. The expectation to grind continues. Honestly, I just thought being tired to the point of daily, hourly exhaustion was just part of...adulting. I hadn’t even assessed burnout in my own life until I interviewed my childhood friend, surgeon Dr. Yumiko Kadota, for the New York Times. We spoke after 20 years while I was quarantining in a hotel room in Singapore after a week of not seeing another human being in person. Being alone in a room, responsible only for myself, held up a mirror to how much of my regular life was overstretched. Anyway. Yumiko (but please, do call her Dr. Kadota if you refer to her, here’s why) and I had a candid conversation about what workplace burnout really means. It was eye-opening. She talked about working 100 hour weeks, and being called an “emotional female” (the title of her fantastic memoir) when she pushed back against being woken up at 3 A.M. to confirm a non urgent surgery. Her book details galling sexism and racism, despite outperforming her peers in every way as a rockstar surgeon. But what really made me sit up straight, mouth agape, is when she told me the feedback she got when she brought up how overworked she was to managers: “you need to toughen up and deal with it.” I heard variations of this as a young journalist, I heard it in tech all the time, and even now, as an entrepreneur, the idea that “you can sleep when you’re dead” is alive and sniggering. But the truth is if we don’t sleep enough, we’re digging an early grave. Literally, a new study finds working more than 55 hours a week can lead to premature death. Everyone who works with anyone else, especially if you manage folks, needs to encourage others and ourselves to take a break. After hearing my “fiesty” (read the significance of this in the NYT interview) childhood friend recount the horrors of overwork, losing control of her gut, chronic insomnia that led to hospitalization, mental health traumas too deep to recount in any article, I realized that could be anyone. It could be you or me. For those of us who wear other marginalized identities, women, people of color, parents, people with disabilities etc...the burden to prove ourselves by overworking is even more pronounced. When Yumiko talked about having her job once define her identity, like I still do, I could only think of the heartbreak when your job doesn’t love you back. And I don’t want that for anyone. Workplace burnout is not a “woman’s issue,” either. It’s everybody’s issue. I want to see more leaders talk about it, get trained in recognizing it in your people and be accountable for creating a workplace culture that doesn’t expect people to be overworked to the point of burnout. And model taking breaks instead of glorifying how long you worked. As someone who reports to myself, I have to create the structure for myself. I’m building in time off monthly, which I know is a privilege. It’s the only way I can carry on. How have you addressed workplace burnout? Is “sleep when you’re dead” hurting your workforce? My talks address how to change your workplace culture to be more… human. Ideal for keynotes, company meetings, and ERGs, I'd be happy to come to your workplace (virtually, for now) to present to your team. Book me to speak. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

Seven years ago I walked away from my last corporate job. I'd spent far too long in industries – and organizations – that did not welcome me. Everyday I asked myself: What was wrong with me? Was I not tough enough? Did I just not have what it takes to succeed? I was always a confident person (the harmful “submissive model minority” myth did not apply to me and, come to think of it, most people I know!) but over years in those unwelcoming environments I felt my confidence… and eventually my soul… being chipped away. My experience awakened a passion — no, an obsession — to get to the bottom of what really holds women back in the workplace. We can build inclusive workplaces with women of color at their center. I know it is possible. So what's the problem? Well, too much of the existing narrative focuses on “fixing women”—getting more women to negotiate, demand, and “lean in." But “leaning in” barely works for white women. For women of color, it’s actually harmful. When corporate structures are inherently biased, telling women to “lean in” doesn’t solve anything. What holds women back are biased, exclusionary workplaces, not a lack of confidence, leaning in or imposter syndrome. (I recently debunked the myth of women’s imposter syndrome in this Harvard Business Review article with Jodi-Ann Burey.) I’ve spent the seven years since I quit exploring what really works to create organizations where women of color and employees with other historically marginalized identities can thrive. I’ve interviewed countless leaders, experts and really smart people about the solutions that are working (or when those aren't available, at least how to think about these problems). That’s why I’m excited to tell you about what’s coming next: the Inclusion is Leadership series. Starting this month, I’ll write to you weekly about powerful, research-based interventions to create more diverse, equitable and inclusive workplaces. I’m sharing this series because the information exists and I believe it should be freely available. I don’t want to hear, “I want to do better but I don’t know how.” Start here. Start small. Start now. We’re in a pivotal moment. We’re already reimagining our workplaces and have a unique opportunity to learn from the carnage of the past year. Let’s build intersectional, inclusive workplaces where everyone can win together. Inclusion is leadership. Do you agree? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

Incredible women I know are searching for jobs right now. They’re brilliant, qualified and would be a great addition to any workplace. But every time we speak, I learn something new about how broken the hiring dance (do-si-do?) is. From sending resumes into a black box (one qualified woman of color software engineer I know applied for 300 jobs to get 6 callbacks. She tracked it on a spreadsheet!) to all-male interviews, we have so far to go to make getting hired less painful — not to mention, more inclusive! Then I hear from so many hiring managers that they want more diversity in the applicant pool. I’ll also get emails with the subject line: “Hiring for a new position. Know any great diverse people?” Sigh. My problem with this question is the “diverse people” part. Diverse simply means difference. But you and I both know they’re not just asking for “different people.” What they’re really asking for is underrepresented people. Underestimated people (thank you Arlan Hamilton–here’s Arlan on a HBR podcast explain why she uses this framing). If you’re looking to hire more women, Black women, employees with disabilities, neurodiverse employees….then SAY THAT. When you vaguely say “diverse people” you’re using a euphemism that centers cisgender, white men (another way of translating the frustrating question above is “know any great not-white-cis-men?”). Of course, this must come in tandem with committing to building inclusive, equitable workplaces where all people thrive, so that the “diversity” you're seeking won’t enter a hostile environment that will tokenize them. That’s why I don’t want you to hire “diverse people.” Be intentional and own up to who’s missing from your organization today — and why. I appreciate it so much when leaders come to me saying, “we’ve not had a great culture for women because we haven’t addressed gender bias issues seriously before, which is why we’re almost all dudes. Here’s how we’re changing so that we can hire and retain more women — and here’s why it’s important to us.” Let’s do away with the term “diverse people/candidates” once and for all. If stop hiring diverse people was a mind-bender for you, or if it validated your own experience, I’d love for you to send this post to someone you know. I want to spread this message as far and wide as possible! Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I write this letter with a heavy heart as we confront ongoing violence and racism against communities of color, particularly brutality against unarmed young Black men like Daunte Wright. Writing this letter on inclusive hiring can't even come close to bringing justice for lost lives. But given that data show that the workplace is where Americans interact most often with people of a different race, I believe one of our greatest chances of achieving justice and equity in our society starts in the workplace. Onward we go, because we must, even with heavy hearts. So...We’re not hiring diverse people (check out the last letter to learn why). But to create a more diverse and inclusive workplace, hiring managers (you do not have to be in HR/recruiting to be a hiring manager) must do the hard work to reduce their own personal biases. I wrote about this for Harvard Business Review in 2019. The TL;DR version is this: We’re hardwired to be drawn to people who are like us. That’s why biases enter hiring decisions….and promotion and pay and….basically, all decisions. It doesn’t matter whether we intended to be biased (and, especially, discriminatory). Instead, we need to focus on the impact of what happens when we make decisions riddled with biases. To drive meaningful progress on this front, individuals––managers, leaders, even individual contributors––must take personal responsibility to understand their biases. I’ll address institutional (data-backed) policies for inclusive hiring in the next letter. But I believe change can begin with one person. You. How? Step one: Accept that you have biases. Reflect on why you might feel drawn to some people over others. Think about the last time you connected with someone who you thought was amazing, but you couldn’t explain why. They just were! And conversely, think about a case where you immediately disliked someone. In both instances, did their race, gender, hometown, educational background, socioeconomic status or other identities match yours? Or were they very different on all measures? It's human nature to be drawn to people like us and reject those we perceive as different. We need to accept we have this bias–affinity bias–and only then can even begin to address it. Step two: Honestly reflect back on the last few people who you hired. Did factors such as their race, gender, education or how much you liked them influence you? Add the lens of pandemic hiring and there’s a whole new level to this assessment. Did you maybe make judgments on what their house looked like on Zoom or whether you heard a child in the background? It’s uncomfortable to admit but these biases make all the difference when we choose who to hire. I’m not proud to say that I’ve fallen prey to my own biases in past hiring decisions. Only through careful and consistent awareness of them combined with careful and consistent action to correct them have I been able to make change. I still slip up occasionally when I say things like, "they went to my alma mater, so they're going to be amazing." Step three: When you’re evaluating a candidate, normalize asking yourself this question. “Where did bias show up in this decision?” It really, really, really helps to articulate it out loud. (Did I write “really” enough times? It helps. I’ve seen it in action.) It also helps disrupt others' biases in action. You can finally ask your peer whether their comment was biased, "I liked her because she smiled a lot. Let's hire her." Step four: Refuse to begin interviews until you have a strong representation. At least 50% of candidates should reflect the racial and gender diversity of the country you live in. At the very least. Research from Stefanie K. Johnson et. al. shows that if you have just one woman in the hiring process, her chances of being hired are statistically zero. Don’t just tokenize–make it count. Taking personal responsibility to diversify your hiring pool makes all the difference. Much before you make big policy changes. Because inclusion is leadership. Take it from an underestimated—I didn’t say diverse!—leader. Do you agree? What’s worked for you? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.