Inclusion, It’s Just Something You Do
By Lauren Burgess, M.Ed.
When I think about diversity and inclusion, I think about a community where no one looks the same or thinks the same and where differing beliefs and abilities are respected. A community that is accessible to everyone and that celebrates these differences, where restaurant owners, neighbors, banks, airports, restrooms, coffee shops, hotels, and museums strive to make everyone feel welcome, comfortable, seen and heard. This doesn’t exist yet, but it will, and that’s where the Traveling Gnomes [1] come in.
For the first time ever, the Traveling Gnomes embarked on an international adventure to show the world what diversity and inclusion looks like. Our first stop, Costa Rica. In a few words, I’d describe this country as lush, breathtakingly beautiful, and with 163% humidity, sweaty. The people who call Costa Rica home were kind, accommodating, and damn good cooks. Most importantly, though, they were mindful. Mindful of the things that really matter in this life, like animals, the environment, and the human experience. This became pretty obvious after discovering that they have crosswalks for iguanas and monkeys. Iguanas in Costa Rica are the equivalent to squirrels back home and the monkeys are known as “the most organized mafia.” We traveled here with 18 neurodiverse and differently-abled adults thinking we were going to show Costa Ricans what it meant to be inclusive, but instead, they showed us.
Most afternoons we’d walk from our villa down the street to grab fresh guanabana[2] smoothies. All 18 of us walking at widely varying paces and gates, some of us speed walking while others swayed side to side at a leisurely stroll looking more like a sloth than a tourist; cars would stop and wave. They would ask how we were doing, if we needed a ride and of course to say, “pura vida.” It didn’t take long for us to realize that they see us. Like really see us for who we are, humans. For a moment in time, we didn’t feel like outcasts. We were welcomed guests with hosts who graciously and consistently went out of their way to make sure we felt comfortable in their country while we slowly barricaded down their roads every afternoon.
They listened to us and not just our voices, but our body language and mannerisms. At dinner, the manager would be sure to seat us in the quiet section, and ask us if we preferred the lights and music up or down instead of assuming one over the other. And when a few of us communicated discomfort, often in the form of behavioral outbursts,[3] they didn’t stare. They came right over to assist and ask if there was anything more they could do. When we said “no” they went right back to their job as if nothing had happened and paying no attention to the reactions of the accompanying diners.
They helped us, respectfully, as adults and not as incompetent children. I feel it’s necessary to clarify this as we constantly encounter the opposite back home. The adults I work with, the amazing, brilliant grown-ass human beings who choose to come to program[4] every day to learn and grow right alongside me are often met with high-pitched, wide-eyed baby talk like they’re a cute commodity who knows nothing about the world. Let me tell you, the individuals I get to work with, travel with, live with and hang with 365 days a year know more about the world than you or I ever will. They have worked hard to get to where they’re at, overcoming every obstacle this world has to offer, and the last thing they need is for us to talk down to them or to assume that they need us to make life easier. You don’t. Now, let’s move on.
When my friend Bill was having difficulty making an exchange in order to purchase his hand-carved crocodile souvenir, the cashier didn’t ask me for assistance even though it would have been easier for her. Instead, she took her time and assisted Bill in counting his money, carefully showing him, using both words and pictures, what the exchange rate was between dollars and colónes. This is what respect looks like. This is what inclusion looks like. This is Costa Rica.
I’ve had the opportunity to speak on this very topic at conferences across the state to audiences who are eager to be inclusive, but don’t yet know where to start. Here’s my answer, which has also become my life’s motto and the solution to most problems I’ve come across thanks to the brilliant minds at Nike, just[5] do it. Just do it. Start spending time with people who look differently than you, but don’t stop there. Hang out with people who think differently than you, who move differently than you, and who communicate differently than you. Then, listen and meet each person where they’re at and not where you think they should be. Stop making diversity and inclusion so dang complicated. It’s not a mystery and there is no secret, you just do it.
[1] www.thetravelinggnomes.org
[2] Guanabana (gua-na-ba-na), real fruit that only grows in Costa Rica and no it’s not a mix between a guava and banana, but it is without a doubt what Heaven tastes like blended with ice.
[3] Like throwing a whole plate of hot food across the room with enough force to shatter it against a pole just a few inches from someone’s head.
[5] f*&%ing