The joy of belonging

There is something special about being in a space in which one of your primary identities puts you in the majority. Growing up in Jamaica, I took being part of the racial majority for granted. There was an ease of movement and acceptance. No one ever looked at me as if I didn’t belong—not until I moved to Maryland when I was 15 years old. That was the beginning of my being the only one, or one of a few, in the room.

Recently, I was invited to facilitate a couple of sessions at WilmerHale’s Diversity Summit, a two-day event for WilmerHale lawyers who identify as people of color and/or LGBTQ+. I started my career at Hale & Dorr, a predecessor of WilmerHale. It was the second time I’ve participated. And both times, I felt emotional the moment I entered the room.

I was flooded with a sense of pride at how far the firm has come since 1990. If we had held a Diversity Summit back then, when I joined after graduation from law school, we would have needed one table. There were 29 tables with 10 people around each one in the ballroom this year.

The excitement in the room was palpable. Warmth and joy grew as attorneys from different offices met each other for the first time or reconnected. There is a unique power from being with your people, whoever your people might be. Black folks don’t find ourselves in large numbers in professional spaces very often. When we do, the energy is electric. If you are from a traditionally underrepresented group, you know what I mean. I was buzzing with energy for several days after the Summit.

My law school started to hold Black alumni reunions about 15 years ago. My college now does it as well. Every time I attend, it is amazing to see so many Black people on the campus. There is nothing like the joy of getting together with Black women especially! I leave feeling rejuvenated.

The opportunity to connect with people who share a primary identity is powerful. We share stories, generate creative ideas, and feel more engaged in the work.

Beyond the professional benefits, of course, are the human ones. We all need spaces that are rejuvenating and joyful. But because we humans are so good at adapting to our circumstances, we often don’t notice that we are being emotionally drained in our workplaces. Or, perhaps we accept that circumstance and seek connection and rejuvenation outside of work.

Ideally, everyone would feel a sense of belonging in our workplaces—able to show up with our full selves, without fear of being marginalized on the basis of any of our identities. Until organizations can reach that state of equity and inclusion that enables the sense of belonging for everyone, providing periodic opportunities for people in underrepresented groups to come together is a good strategy.

Take a real vacation

Last month, I took my first real vacation in three years. I say “real” because, although I have taken vacations more recently, I have worked during all of them.

This time, I was intentional about leaving my laptop behind and not responding to email. Being a DEI practitioner isn’t the hardest or most stressful job in the world, but it does require a level of emotional energy that some other jobs don’t require. Despite scheduling downtime each week, I was feeling a need for a deeper reset. In order to be successful, I recognized that I had to be intentional.

I started planning for the disconnection two weeks ahead. I literally put on my calendar: “Start preparing for vacation.” That was my reminder to wrap up projects and let clients know that I would be out of office.

The night before leaving, I set my vacation message to say “I will be on vacation from ____ to ____. I will respond to your message when I return.” In the past, I used to say things like, “I will check email once a day, please forgive my delayed response.” My new vacation message felt downright liberating!

It was hard to leave the laptop behind. I second guessed myself up to the night before. And I won’t lie, I glanced at email on my phone from time to time. But the temptation to peek lessened, and the inbox remained unread as I eased into vacation mode.

It was worth it. There is something special about taking a full week and truly separating from work. I returned to work on Monday feeling refreshed. Why hadn’t I allowed myself to do this for so long?

All workers need some downtime. As I think about people who are in underrepresented groups working in mostly majority organizations—like Black employees in a mostly white companies, or solitary LGBTQ+ folks among colleagues who are all straight and cisgender—I think their needs are especially acute. They might not have the job of holding emotion like DEI practitioners, but the cumulative stress calls out for restoration too.

I’m my own boss, so the decision to unplug is in my control. For most people, managers may be putting pressure on people to keep up while on leave, consciously or otherwise.

I get it—the work doesn’t stop. But you need the people who do the work to be at their best, and with the stamina to stay at it. Give your people a break. Give yourself one as well. Not only do we deserve it. We need it.

Sustaining momentum post-“awakening”

Right after George Floyd was murdered by police in May of 2020, my email was blowing up. My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing with alerts that another organization was looking for help with antiracism. It was encouraging to see the increase of interest.

I was excited, but I was also wary. How long would the fervor last?

Honestly, I was pleasantly surprised that the demand continued into 2021. It’s definitely quieter now. Have you noticed the dip as well? I’m guessing if you are a DEI consultant you may have noticed the inquiries slowing down. If you are the DEI director at your organization, you’re probably having a harder time getting people to show up to meetings to tackle those long term projects you started in 2020/21. It might also be harder to get the necessary money approved for those projects.

It raises a painful question: As a society, do we require an ongoing series of horrific incidents and sensational headlines in order to maintain the momentum of antiracism work? I hope not. But, how do we keep the work going? Do organizations have the stamina to follow through with changes when they don’t always see visible progress within a few quarters—and when opposition begins to regain traction? How do we keep folks engaged and committed to this work for the long haul? Particularly people who may not feel directly impacted.

If we knew that trick, of course, we would have dismantled racism long ago. My advice for leaders in times like this, when external pressure has lightened somewhat and the momentum is coasting, is to ground yourself in your sphere of influence. Ask yourself, where can I have some impact? Take stock of what’s happening in your organizational culture and evaluate where you have influence to make change.

Schedule time on your calendar to examine the systemic issues within your organization. Do a data dive: what is the distribution of employees of color within your hierarchy? Are they disproportionately at junior levels? What are you doing to advance people from marginalized groups? Is the rate of turnover in your organization higher for people of color? Do a DEI audit of your policies and practices to see if they’re equitable. Take the pulse of employees with surveys; see how they’re experiencing the environment, and be sure to obtain anonymized demographics so you can look for disparate impact on people of color. Include some qualitative data—try to get some stories from people. You might find insights that can serve as internal pressure to take to senior leadership.

I see some of this happening within our client organizations, and it gives me hope. The inquiries we receive these days tend to be more serious, more thoughtful, reflecting a deeper level of commitment. Motivated by clarity about the evidence of systemic racism and inequity inside their organizations, our clients are determined to make change and are engaging in the hard work of getting it done.

Antiracism work is not only important, but it takes time, attention, and focus. Don’t wait until the next crisis to start again. Let’s maintain the momentum.