Picture by Michael McAuliffe on Unsplash
The self-deception that believes the lie
From the song ‘I Wish I Were in Love Again’
Performed by Ella Fitzgerald
Groucho Marx famously quipped, ‘I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.’ We rightfully smile at his remark’s incongruity and laugh at its truth, recognizing the identical contradictions within us gives the line its punch and its staying power. Regrettably, we are prone to forgetting this wisdom and adversely impact inclusion and belonging when we do.
We overlook in ourselves the very transgressions we judge in others, convincing ourselves we are above reproach that we could ever do an awful thing another has done. It is as if we are exempt from the contradictions, biases, and shadow elements within all of us.
When thinking most clearly, I believe there is nothing another human being could say or do that I am not capable of under the same or similar circumstances.
I believe our self-deception ignores these truths and contributes to a culture of intolerance. It accepts and even encourages ‘slamming’ a person who has erred with words or deeds. Headlines shaming offenders for failing to possess flawlessness that does not exist have become the norm. The certainty of these captions is simple and easy and also incomplete.
These responses remind me of Joe Ehrmann’s ‘Be a Man’ TEDX Baltimore talk (https://rb.gy/gbckne), in which he describes boys on the playground bullying kids who exhibit any point of weakness. Only to be saying silently to themselves, ‘I sure hope that never happens to me.’ We are all susceptible and therefore need to stop insisting on perfection.
“The pervasiveness of our indignation stifles sharing; it stamps out the dialogue in which we so desperately need to engage in fostering inclusion and belonging.”
It constitutes emotional offloading, which intensifies separation and alienation. We conveniently forget the humanity we share with others.
Instead, we turn our hurt into ire and inflict it upon unsuspecting persons who err in unrelenting ways, thus preventing people from speaking candidly, putting their thoughts, feelings, beliefs into the pool to be examined and hashed out. Eradicating the dialogue and relationships needed to spur the same acceptance and action we profess to stand.
I do not suggest outrage or condemnation is without merit at times; it is. However, sometimes it is also insincere. I believe intentions and context matter—the use and acceptability of words and language change over time. So do their meanings. Nevertheless, they remain within us and sometimes slip out. The question then becomes how can we best handle these instances, individually and collectively, when they occur?
Rather than condemning, more helpful and complete responses to missteps include compassion, curiosity, and vulnerability, in addition to rightfully demanding change, apologies, and amends. Not so simple and easy, yet all are needed.
Inclusion and belonging are not theoretical concepts; they require sharing through dialogue and interaction, in addition to self-examination. We each need to hold the space necessary to engage in challenging conversations.
As a result of my diversity, equity, and belonging work, others frequently relate to me, directly or indirectly, ‘I would love to say…, but I would be wrong.’ These same beliefs need to be aired in groups to be heard, discussed, and challenged appropriately.
I have committed myself to diversity, equity, and inclusion work, primarily by facilitating uncommonly candid conversations. I have found participants withhold even when choosing to participate in discussion groups focused on these topics. They keep quiet, afraid of saying the wrong thing, being judged negatively, and suffering the scorn of others. Nothing changes when this occurs.
I actively pursue relationships with diverse people, which can be complex, and I sometimes stumble along the way. As far as I can determine, my missteps do not represent any ill intent or malice. Nevertheless, I need to take responsibility for them and their repercussions when I do. The journey of inclusion never ends.
As such, I implore you, too, to be more honest with yourself, remember your fallibilities, and deliberately practice compassionate acceptance of yourself and others.
“My impassioned call to each of us is to stop making perfection a requisite for inclusiveness and belonging—the essential work of our time.”
We will never make it if we do.
If uncommonly candid conversations would benefit your team, organization, or association, please reach out to me to discuss group facilitation. I welcome the connection.