What to Say When Words Fail the Inclusive Leader
I’ve always hated rifling through Hallmark cards in a drugstore aisle—anxiously searching for “the” card that captures the sentiment I’m looking to express. I’ve never found what I was looking for, I always had to settle for something mediocre. It is difficult when we have something we feel we need to say but words fail us. I feel a very similar sense of anxiety on a regular basis in the workplace. The combination of the 24-hour news cycle, coupled with regularly occurring tragedies, means that there is almost always something to grieve and someone I care about who is affected and grieving.
This latest mass shooting event in Monterey Park, California left me speechless. Such a heinous act of violence on the Chinese New Year, a time of celebration and community, is devastating to all of us, but particularly to members of the Chinese-American and AAPI communities. It’s not the first act of heinous violence and hatred against this community, but it’s just the latest example in an increasingly concerning trend.
Inclusive leadership work is about cultivating belonging—making sure that others feel valued, safe, and seen. As an aspiring inclusive leader, I have to say something because to me silence feels unacceptably dismissive of the lived reality of colleagues and friends. This need to name the pain and grief feels self-evident, but it’s the words that have trouble coming to me. This is the same hesitation I felt when Derek Chauvin knelt on George Floyd’s for 8 minutes and 46 seconds or when a gunman killed 9 people in the LGBTQ Club Q in Colorado Springs last November. How can my words possibly mean anything to members of a community of which I am not a part, especially when so many aspects of my identity point to my own privilege and ease in this world?
I’ve thought about this a lot over the past few years and sadly, I’ve gotten a lot of practice with it. I have some ideas for those who feel compelled to say something.
Care often. If you’re leading inclusively, you care every day for those that you come into contact with. That’s the standard, not the exception. There’s enough performative allyship out there and it’s never appropriate, least of all when tragedy strikes. If you haven’t regularly cultivated a relationship with this person, checking on how they’re doing on any given Monday, don’t do it on “that” Monday.
No response needed. Whenever I send a message acknowledging something particularly difficult, I always end it with “no response needed”. This is one simple way that I try to decenter my own experience or expectations. I just want the person to know I care about them, that I value them, and that their safety and the safety of those they love and look like is important to me. My concern is that my message will cause them an additional thing to attempt to, the added mental burden of figuring out how to respond in a moment of grief. That’s never my goal because this isn’t about me.
Be ready to listen. We all process things in different ways and I’ve found that most of us like a certain degree of boundaries. However, if you’re reaching out to a colleague, you should be prepared to listen. Refrain from trying to solve anything, it’s not in your power or your role. Through thoughtful listening you can offer compassion and genuine care for their experience.
How can I help? If you go to the trouble of reaching out, you better be ready to help. Life can be exhausting—add in deep grief, concerns for your safety, or systemic racism/sexism and there’s a good chance you’re on the edge. If you’re reaching out to let someone know you matter to them, you should be able and willing to help. You may not be sending a meal, but you better be prepared to step up and lead a meeting, take notes, or give them grace around a particular deliverable they might have.
Deepen your own knowledge/experience. A now infamous 2013 survey found that “fully three-quarters (75%) of white Americans report that the network of people with whom they discuss important matters is entirely white”. Social network homogeneity is a real problem, especially amongst those in the majority. Thankfully, this is changing but there are ample reasons to diversify the networks in which you exist. No tacky TJ Maxx canvas wall hanging needed here, you already know that actions speak louder than words so get out there and see the world through others experiences. You can start by following the work and writing of Ruchika Tulshyan—she wrote beautifully of this very phenomenon in the fall of 2021.
Inclusive leaders are proactive and courageous individuals who aren’t afraid of getting messy. When we see something, we say something. It may not always come out right, our intent and impact may not always align, but we are committed to demonstrating deep care for those that we work alongside.