“Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu.” — A person is a person through other people. — Zulu proverb, the root of Ubuntu philosophy
In Part 1, I wrote about diversity: nine children, nine different personalities. In Part 2, I wrote about equity: a father who gave each of us what we needed to grow. Now we come to the piece that holds everything together. Inclusion.
You can have diversity without inclusion. You can even have equity without inclusion. A person can be different, be supported, and still feel like a guest in their own home. Inclusion is what turns a guest into a member.
Every voice at the table
In our family, one rule never changes: when there was a family project or a family decision, every sibling was asked for their opinion. Not just the eldest, not just the loudest, all of us.
As a child, I did not realize how unusual that was. I assumed every family worked this way. Only later, in my work and my research on leadership, did I understand what my father was doing. He was teaching us that belonging is not something you are given. It is something you practice by speaking and by being heard.
Asking someone’s opinion is telling them: You matter here. Your view can change the outcome. That is inclusion in its simplest form.
Rooted in community
My father did not invent this approach. It came from the society I grew up in, in Côte d’Ivoire, where leadership was organized around the community and its chief. No one person made decisions behind closed doors. Community members took part in the conversation, regardless of their age.
This is Ubuntu in action. A person becomes a person through other people. A decision becomes legitimate when the people it affects have a voice. The chief leads, but the chief listens first.
In many Western organizations, inclusion is treated as a new idea that needs training programs and policies. In much of Africa, it is an old idea that lived in villages and family compounds for generations. The language is new. The practice is ancient.
Inclusion is not the same as presence
Many organizations count heads and call it inclusion. They hire diverse teams, then hold meetings where the same three people do all the talking. Being in the room is not the same as being part of the decision.
In our home, being present was never enough. My father expected us to contribute. If one of us stayed quiet, he asked directly. Silence was not taken as agreement. It was taken as a voice that had not yet been heard.
That is the difference between presence and inclusion. Presence means you are invited. Inclusion means you are expected to shape what happens next.
What inclusion gave us
Being asked for our opinions did more than make us feel respected. It changed who we became.
- It built confidence. When your view is taken seriously as a child, you grow into an adult who expects to contribute.
- It built responsibility. When you help make a decision, you own the result. You cannot simply blame the person in charge.
- It built unity. Nine people with different strengths and opinions stayed connected because no one was left outside the circle.
- It led to better decisions. Nine perspectives saw problems and solutions that one perspective alone would have missed.
The same is true in any team. Inclusion is not a favor leaders do for their people. It is how leaders get the best thinking their people have to offer.
Bringing inclusion from home to work
Here is what my father’s family table teaches today:
- Ask everyone, not only the experts. The junior colleague, the quiet one, and the newcomer often see what others miss.
- Invite the silent voice. Do not wait for people to speak up. Ask them directly and make it safe to answer honestly.
- Let input change outcomes. If people’s opinions never change anything, they will stop giving them. Show how their voices shaped the decision.
- Listen before you lead. Like a good chief, gather the community’s views before you announce the path forward.
- Make belonging a habit, not an event. Inclusion is not a workshop. It is how you run every meeting, every project, every day.
DEI begins at home
When I look back on this series, I see three lessons from one family.
Diversity taught us that we were different and that our differences were gifts. Equity taught us that different people need different support to flourish. Inclusion taught us that every one of us belonged at the table and that the table was stronger because we were all there.
If DEI can begin at a family table, it can begin in your home, your team, and your organization. The question is not whether we know what to do. The question is whether we are willing to pull up a chair for everyone and then truly listen.