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Inclusion and Belonging

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What do diversity and inclusion mean to you these days?

Honestly for me, they mean different things depending on the context in which I think about them.  Cathy the Cynic thinks diversity initiatives too often feel trendy and superficial, like a knee-jerk response to the social pressure to check a box.  Cathy the Optimist believes that those who direct such initiatives honestly see the communal value in a truly diverse and inclusive work environment.

A wise friend recently pointed out to me that inclusion can be a challenge even in a homogeneous group.  “You could have 25 white men in a room and everybody may not feel included.”  So, he said, perhaps we should work on inclusion first, and diversity will come more naturally as a result.  Brilliant!  If we make it safe for everybody to be themselves, no matter who they are, then they feel free to bring their best, authentic selves—it’s a win-win for each individual and the organization.  An inclusive work culture supports and values each person for their unique contributions.  In such an environment, diversity is achieved because people value their differences as much as their similarities.  They live in curiosity and awe, always in a learning stance.  Inclusive cultures seek more perspectives, experiences, expertise, and backgrounds—they cultivate depth and breadth in the humanity of their workforce.  People from divergent walks of life seek to join such cultures, drawn to vibrant cohesion, synergy, and creativity.

This idea marinated in my mind for some weeks until an article from the Wharton School of Business crossed one of my online feeds last Thursday.  It says diversity and inclusion are not enough; we need to cultivate a sense of belonging in our workplaces.  The article quotes Sam Lalanne, a senior vice president of Global Diversity and Talent Management at Citigroup:  “…whereas diversity often gets linked to numbers and percentages, belonging ‘is about how you feel’ when you’re at work. ‘Do you feel valued? Do you feel like you should be there? Do you feel that your insights, commentary and perspectives matter?’”

“Rebekah Bastian, a vice president of culture and community at Zillow Group, said that the superior business outcomes often associated with having diverse teams can’t be achieved without a sense of belonging. It’s not enough to simply include people at the table, she said, but to ‘amplify everyone’s voices, clear barriers … and appreciate each other for our unique backgrounds.’ Both she and Lalanne said that a sense of belonging means that people can bring their full selves to work, and not feel like they’re a different person there than at home.”

A different person.  So what I described above as inclusion is really what these leaders define as belonging.  We want each person to feel they belong in the work tribe, that their presence and contributions are valuable and worthy, as themselves.  When we include, from our hearts, each person in their wholeness, only then will they truly belong.  And that is the sweet spot where teams thrive.

So what do we do?  How do we create such loving cultures of true belonging?  According to panelists quoted in the Wharton article (and we all know this), it comes from the top:  “Lalanne also commented on the importance of ‘tone at the top’ toward fostering a sense of belonging. ‘Our CEO, Mike Corbat, has really pushed us on our diversity, inclusion and belonging agendas. And it really comes from, what does he preach, what comes out of his mouth, how does he execute against the things that we see around us.’”  Simon Sinek calls us to live our values with clarity, consistency, and discipline.  So if you’re a leader who talks about diversity and inclusion, about belonging, then we workers have to see you, to feel you, living these values out loud and in front of us.

Belonging is more about how we are toward each other than how we act or what we do, which is inclusion.  This is the key to successful ‘diversity and inclusion’ initiatives—they must be sincere.  Humans are intuitively social animals.  We smell insincerity and reject it, because it is unsafe.  We cannot trust it.

A garden of belonging must be grown organically.  There are no shortcuts.  It takes time, and the gardener must tend it regularly.  Young seedlings require protection from weather and predators.  She must bring in pollinators and other helpers—one person cannot do it all.  So we can all pick up a trowel and participate.  We look to our leaders to set the path, and when we see the shining hope of our collective destination we follow willingly, eagerly, and together.

Aunt Rachel’s Blessings

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My friends, it’s been an intense couple of weeks!  So much so that I have fully neglected the news headlines—this must be why I’m still in a reasonably good mood.  Another is that I have rediscovered Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, the wise and benevolent matron of medicine whose gentle and gracious example I aspire to follow.

I first read her books, Kitchen Table Wisdom and My Grandfather’s Blessings, at least ten years ago by now.  They felt like my favorite plush blanket, draped over my shoulders with that welcome, comforting weight, and tucked under my feet, warming me with stories of love and belonging.  Life was just as hectic then as today, but in a different way.  The kids were little, and I had few if any responsibilities at work outside of patient care.  Aunt Rachel’s stories calmed me and gave me peace in that young chaos.  I had meant to reread them, but, well, life.

I perused the shelves and stacks of my personal library recently, searching for a book that my friend might like.  Both avid readers, we share and discuss titles on leadership, philosophy, and personal development.  The search this day felt different from browsing Amazon or my local book store.  A deeper part of me knew exactly what I sought for my friend, even as my conscious mind had only a vague idea.  I wanted to share something different with him, something less cerebral.  As soon as I saw it, I settled on My Grandfather’s Blessings, no question.  But after a day or two, as often happens with instantaneous intuitive decisions, I did question.  So I sat down with Aunt Rachel and her grandfather one evening, as if meeting old friends in the squishy armchairs of a cozy, familiar café.  After some years of listening to books rather than reading them, I find quiet sitting with a paper book so comforting now.  I am called to slow down, to be still, more than I have been (have allowed?), for a very long time.

By page two of the introduction, my doubts vaporized.  This is it, I thought.  Stories of humanity, history, culture, medicine, healing, perspective, and how we humans are intertwined with one another and nature in the most beautiful and cosmic, inescapable and daunting ways.  As I reread her grandfather’s wise sayings, his subtle yet unmistakable messages of reassurance and unconditional love, that familiar warmth enveloped me again.  I could almost feel my blood pressure drop and my oxytocin level rise.

So much love and connection—the book is really all about relationships, which my friend and I both hold as the key to a meaningful life.  As I continue to read this week, it occurs to me that perhaps I was not actually looking for a book for my friend, but rather for myself.  For many years I have hunted ravenously for books to teach me, to elevate my performance in parenting, doctoring, leading.  But Aunt Rachel’s books simply soothe me.  They acknowledge and give credence to that still small voice that advocates and validates the need for deep personal connection, in a world that values it less and less.

I wonder if reading Aunt Rachel’s books so early in my career helped me more than I knew.  Looking back on the past decade, I feel proud to have resisted the pressure of 15 minute clinic visits, to have made the effort to relate as personally as I could with every patient, even if my bids were rejected.  Aunt Rachel’s books honor that heart center in me that holds true to what I value the most, which is connection with people.  Perhaps I have her to thank for watering the strongest, deepest roots of my doctor soul before they could dry up and later require excavation to revive?

I still think my friend will enjoy Aunt Rachel’s book.  Her stories resonate with the humanity in all of us, not just doctors and patients.  I look forward to hearing his feedback, and finding more books to share.  And I must remember to bless our friendship.

May we all acknowledge and share the blessings in our lives, every chance we get.

Thanks, Ba

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SS back nine 8-31-14

Today I sat stewing a long while over what to write.  Too many ideas, all intertwined, tangled, and amorphous.  It’s been an intense week of learning and introspection, and I’m happy to have some quiet down time.  Hubs and son went to Colorado for a quick weekend getaway, and I got to FaceTime with them briefly while they drove with my dad to the mall before heading to the airport for the flight back.  These, the three most important men in my life, all in one place—suddenly I felt moved to say thanks to the dads—Happy Father’s Day, of course!

When we think of dads and their special place in our lives, can we not help but realize the gravity of their job?  Let’s not kid ourselves, no dad is perfect.  But if we assume each does the best he can, we should really start to appreciate how they shape our lives.  At their best, they protect us, model our core values and how to be in the world, and prepare us to launch successfully into that world with conviction.  They seem also to possess inherent knowledge on how cars, garage doors, and water heaters work—what is up with that?

Much is written on why boys need strong male role models.  But we girls need them, too—dads are key to all kids’ success.  My dad immigrated to the US as an engineering graduate student in 1970.  He taught me how to be assertive, honest, direct, articulate, and confident–all the things he had to be.  Because of him I can stand tall (all 5’2” of me) in a room full of men and know without question that I can hold my own.  I can meet my senior corporate executive male patients not just with my MD and expertise, but with the self-assurance that a lifetime of verbal sparring with a powerful mental coach has provided.  Because of Ba I am precise, intentional, and sure with my words.  [I got my diplomacy from my mom, but that’s another post.]  I would not be the person I am today without my dad.  It’s not at all that Hallmark commercial mush and goo (we are Chinese, are you kidding?), and we have certainly had our differences.  But I do not question his absolute, unconditional, and infinite love, and I know he felt it from my grandfather before him.  Hou-Ping Cheng of the Greatest Generation was, by the way, a Renaissance man.  He traveled to the United States as a young adult in the early 20th Century, learned English, returned only to flee communist China after World War II, then rose to teach at university and lead infrastructure projects in my parents’ hometown in Taiwan.  I think his father was a surgeon (will have to check with Ba on that one).  I come from a long line of strong male role models, so voilà, how could I not be a successful, 21st Century, Chinese-American mama doc?

Healthy relationships evolve and mature with time, and parent-child relationships are no exception.  Kids appreciate when parents can admit their flaws and own their mistakes.  Parents appreciate when kids acknowledge that we really are here doing our best.  Apologies and forgiveness heal wounds great and small.  I don’t do everything the way my parents did it, and I expect my kids will do things differently still.  But what I really hope never changes through the generations, is that every kid in our family, no matter how old, feels loved through and through.

Ba, you have succeeded.  Congratulations and thank you!