Diversity realisations from a non-Anglo chick

The past year has been a real challenge for those of us interested in being part of culturally diverse and, more importantly, inclusive workplaces and communities.

Trump and his look-alikes have led us to almost daily angry outbursts in front of our TVs every time we see their racist, hate-igniting so-called news conferences. But it has also pushed us to rethink our own roles in building the communities we want to live and work in.

So, while the world has been going seriously bonkers, I have been having a transformation of my own, realising how illiterate I still am when it comes to cultural diversity—even though I'm from a diverse background in Australia—and what is needed to achieve inclusion.

Being diverse doesn't make you inclusive

We have all heard that diversity is important but inclusion is the goal, or as diversity advocate Verna Myers puts it, “Diversity is being invited to the party. Inclusion is being asked to dance.”

However, the challenge is not so much understanding the theory of inclusion, but asking ourselves: How inclusive am I? Do I use inclusive language? Do I embrace people from other cultural backgrounds? Am I aware of my own bias, and do I do something about it?

The answers to these questions have been eye-opening and in some cases quite uncomfortable for me.

The reality is that being a heavily accented Colombian living in Australia, who tends to relate easily with people from other culturally diverse groups, does not make me uniquely inclusive.

On the opposite, one could argue that relating to other minorities may be in some cases the result of a "similarity-attraction bias"—the tendency to more easily connect with people who “look and feel” like ourselves—than an act of openness.

When it came to scrutinising my language and my ability to empathise and recognise my own bias, things weren't perfect either.

Anyone from an easily identifiable diverse cultural background will tell you that one of the most annoying questions that we get regularly asked, often by a stranger who don't even know your name, is "So where are you from?"

Why would such a simple question be annoying? Because it usually leads to more questions, often charged with cultural stereotypes. In my case, they range from a short conversation about coffee to a direct request for drugs, or the double whammy—a sexist and culturally inappropriate comment, usually delivered by a man, around the lines "you Latins are so sexy...".

So, am I empathetic, open, and fair every time I answer the question? Do I acknowledge that in most cases, people are trying to connect rather than discriminate? Am I aware of my own bias? Probably not.

Yes, language matters! "Where are you from?" is not an inclusive question. Realising how often my own bias plays a part in the answer, it's hardly an outcome to be proud of, and neither is the fact that knowing how it feels, I have been guilty of asking the question to a "diverse" individual.

So, in short, am I inclusive? In principle, yes, I am. Do I still have work to do to get rid of those lingering biases? You bet!

We all experience cultural diversity differently

In the past weeks, I have had the pleasure and privilege of working with Yassmin Abdel-Magied, gender and cultural diversity advocate, on a series of events and whitepapers she is producing in conjunction with Autopia, my employer.

At one of these events, everyone at the table was asked how they would rate the cultural diversity of their organisation. The question was asked to another Autopian, and it caught my attention that my rate was slightly higher than hers.

Why the difference? All Autopians were aware of our cultural diversity stats:

• 76% of our staff members are culturally diverse either because they were born overseas or have at least one overseas-born parent.

• 60% of the broad management team is from a non-Anglo-Celtic background.

• From its inception, Autopia has always had an executive team where at least 50% of their members were from a culturally diverse background.

Could the discrepancy have to do with the fact that, in this case, I was the non-Anglo answering the question, and somehow the diversity of my organisation was more prominent to me?

Although I’m not trying to diminish my co-worker’s own experience of cultural diversity, I do think that how I live and breathe Autopia every day, and my own experiences in other workplaces do play a vital part in my score.

Now that I have had more time to reflect on this, I can pinpoint more clearly why Autopia feels more diverse and inclusive to me than any other workplace I have been a part of before, which could also be the reason I scored it higher than my colleague.

It is not because my previous employers were not interested in being culturally diverse. Consciously or unconsciously, they were. In fact, I'm a firm believer that if you are an organisation that is willing to trust your marketing and communications in a person from a non-Anglo background; you are probably going to have a diverse staff in many other areas of your business. And that was a fact for most of my previous employers.

So, where do the differences lay and what are they? Well, the differences started right from the beginning, the hiring process and they have continued to pop up. But for the sake of time, let's focus on the first two I can now identify: the lack of similarity-attraction bias and the use of inclusive language.

Even though at the time, I had already held managerial positions for over seven years, this was the first time the hiring manager was an Anglo-Celtic white male.

This was a realisation that truly shocked me. In a country where less than 30% of leadership positions are held by non-Anglo males, I had managed to avoid them for most of my professional life.

Yes, my previous employers were culturally diverse, but clearly, most of them were also prompted to fall for the 'similarity-attraction bias."

The second difference was the use of inclusive language. The interviewer didn't ask me where was I from; instead, he said something along the lines of him always admiring people who came from other backgrounds, who were able to speak other languages and he wanted to know more about me.

Of course, at the time, I didn't realise that he was being inclusive, and I had no idea that according to Deloitte, one of the signature traits of an inclusive leader is curiosity and a "desire to understand how others view and experience the world."

The reality is I didn't know any of these things at that time, but I knew there was something different, I felt it. And to me, that is inclusion; it is not the writing on the wall, it's not the numbers, it's simply how we make people feel, how we empower them to feel they belong.

If we resist, it will persist

Clearly, achieving inclusion is not an easy task. What I perceive as inclusive may not be as relevant to other culturally diverse people or Anglo-Celtic co-workers. So perhaps it is time to accept the magnitude of the challenge and start to take the not so popular actions.

Imagine if we managed and enforced cultural diversity and inclusion in our workplaces as we do the use of seatbelts. Let me ask you 3 simple questions:

• Do you consciously think about the act of putting your seatbelt on every time you get in the car, or is it an unconscious habit?I

• f your teenager kids decided not to wear seatbelts, would you be cool with it and just take the approach that somehow, 'organically', they will start to use seatbelts?

• Even though it may be a habit already, do you like to have that little 'beep' sound going off when, for some reason, you fail to wear your seatbelt?

I could bet that for most of you, wearing a seatbelt is a thoughtless act. If your teenager kids decided not to wear seatbelts, you would stop them in their tracks and will know very well why it is important to wear one; finally, you probably don't mind the reminder, because no matter how strong a habit is, it can still wear off.

So did we get to this state of consciousness around seatbelt use and safety overnight? Was it a smooth and quick process? No, it wasn't! When mandatory use of seatbelts was introduced, people complained; they found it annoying, an intrusion of their privacy, and an unfair act. Sounds familiar?

But 40+ years later, we are all aware of their importance, and we understand that reinforcing and reminding are both intrinsic parts of keeping us safe and alive.

So why cannot we reinforce and emphasise the need for cultural diversity (or diversity in general for that matter) in our workplaces? Do we really believe we will become an inclusive society organically? Because that is definitely what the last year of news is showing us...

So why don't we take the courage (another signature trait of inclusive leaders) and introduce legislation to reinforce inclusion so at some point it becomes natural for us. So why don't we introduce programs that remind us how we can be more inclusive? Because let's face it, we do need the reminders.

Why even though we know inclusion will stop the current madness around the world, and will ultimately save lives, in and outside the workplace, why are we still resisting meaningful action?

As the amazing Yassmin Abdel-Magied says: "Never underestimate the impact a single individual ‚ -you -‚ can make", so let's persist and ditch the 'resist' in us. 

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Originally published on LinkedIn