When's the last time you had to practice courage?
I’ve got to be real with you: I just came back from a global DEI conference, and instead of feeling inspired, I left feeling excluded.
That struck me. Because if a gathering designed to advance inclusion leaves people feeling shut out, something is off.
I know how much effort it takes to organize an event, and I want to honour the dedication and heart behind it. That’s why I’m not sharing this to complain, but to offer a roadmap forward for all of us. I’ve already shared this feedback directly with the organizers and offered my support as an inclusion consultant, along with curator input for future events, so that more people can benefit from the learning and connections these global experiences are meant to create.
For me, practicing courage meant choosing to speak up about what I experienced at this conference. Many events mean well. But too often, the same missteps are repeated. Naming them takes courage, because nobody wants to be seen as “negative.” Yet silence only reinforces the status quo. So here’s what I noticed—and why it matters:
1. No Indigenous presence
This was in Canada, days before Truth & Reconciliation Day. There was a land acknowledgement, but no Indigenous speakers, programming, or perspectives.
Impact: Reconciliation came across as performative instead of lived, leaving Indigenous participants ignored and non-Indigenous participants without a full perspective.
How I would do it differently: Centre Indigenous stewardship from the start. Co-design programming with local Nations, include Elders and Knowledge Keepers, and ensure reconciliation is a lived practice—not just words.
2. Exclusive prayers
We opened and closed with intense evangelical prayers. The closing prayer was so loud and long that I literally had to cover my ears. As a queer person, it was retraumatizing, since much of the discrimination queer people face has been perpetuated or justified by religion. The same holds true for some Indigenous people, whose traumas were inflicted “in the name of God.”
Impact: Instead of welcoming spirituality in an inclusive way, it created exclusion and harm—especially for people already hurt by religion.
How I would do it differently: If spirituality is included, make it multi-faith, inclusive, and optional. Practices like a moment of reflection or guided mindfulness allow all participants to join without alienation. Spirituality should be offered as an invitation, not imposed.
3. Narrow framing of diversity
For an event centred on diversity, there was a notable absence of content around disability, gender, language, socioeconomic background, and 2SLGBTQ+ inclusion. When I asked a queer-focused question, the response was: “Know your audience.” Oof, that hurt.
Impact: People were erased in real time. Lack of accessibility measures—no gender-neutral washrooms, no disability accommodations such as subtitles, no quiet space, and no clear support structure—left some attendees feeling invisible and unsafe.
How I would do it differently: Use an intersectional framework from the outset. Audit accessibility, provide gender-neutral facilities, and ensure representation across disability, gender, 2SLGBTQ+, culture, race, language, and class. Designate a clear event point person to proactively address access needs, so participants know where to turn and feel confident that they’ll be supported. Naming the multidimensional realities of participants gives everyone a way in.
4. Performative speakers
Buzzwords filled the stage: “AI is the future—jump on board or be left behind.” Few case studies. Few evidence-based strategies.
Impact: DEI came across as fluff—exactly the kind of thing critics love to dismiss.
How I would do it differently: Feature more leaders with lived experience who can share data, strategies, and case studies. Make them the keynotes. Also, run repeat sessions so participants don’t have to choose between “the LGBTQ+ talk” and “the disability talk.” Put evidence-based speakers in the spotlight and then position the niche, aspirational sessions as breakouts. People should leave with tools they can apply tomorrow—not just a notebook full of slogans.
What real DEI requires
✅ Indigenous stewardship and lived experience at the center ✅ Evidence-based strategies people can apply back home ✅ Accessibility and infrastructure so more people can participate, not fewer ✅ A designated event point person to hear participants’ needs and provide support with care and enthusiasm ✅ The most marginalized and equity-deserving voices leading—because if they’re not included, it’s not inclusion
Practicing courage in this moment reminded me: speaking up isn’t comfortable, but it’s necessary if we want real inclusion.
This is what I do: I work with governments, public service providers, and communities to design inclusive, evidence-based strategies that actually work.
Because when inclusion is done well, it benefits everyone.
Thanks for reading. 🌈