Narrator: Imagine being a highly accomplished senior executive, an Asian woman recruited into a Fortune 50 company. At a leadership retreat, you're asked for candid feedback, and you provide it, hoping to foster a more inclusive culture. But soon after, your manager tells you that you "lack executive presence." When you ask for specific examples, none are given. Instead, you're assigned a coach. You try speaking up more, but you're labeled "too aggressive." You try being quieter, but that's still a "lack of presence." You try using more data, but you're called "disagreeable." You are trapped in an impossible double bind, a maze of vague, coded feedback that ultimately leads to burnout and resignation. This frustrating and demoralizing experience isn't a hypothetical scenario; it's the real story of Katherine Kim, and it sits at the heart of the problem Ruchika Tulshyan dismantles in her book, Inclusion on Purpose: An Intersectional Approach to Creating a Culture of Belonging at Work. The book argues that creating truly inclusive workplaces isn't about good intentions or generic diversity programs; it's about the deliberate, conscious, and continuous work of dismantling the biased systems that hold women of color back.

Narrator: For decades, organizations have touted their commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion. Yet, for many women of color, the workplace remains a landscape of "broken dreams, thwarted aspirations, and thinly veiled discrimination." The book opens with a powerful foreword by Ijeoma Oluo, who recounts her mother's stark warning: "HR doesn’t work for you, they work for the company." This sets the stage for a critical examination of why traditional DEI efforts so often fail. The problem is that many initiatives are performative, designed to protect the company's image rather than its employees.

The book is filled with stories that expose this gap between intention and reality. We hear of a Latinx CEO who, at her first board meeting, was asked by the white male board members to serve them coffee. We learn of a Somali American student whose dream of being a news anchor was crushed when she was told, "Nobody wants to see a woman in a hijab reporting the news." These are not isolated incidents; they are symptoms of a culture that defaults to white, male norms. Tulshyan argues that without an intersectional approach—one that specifically centers the experiences of women of color—DEI initiatives inadvertently benefit white women while leaving women of color behind. True inclusion isn't about being invited to the party; it's about having the power to help plan it.

Narrator: The conversation about inclusion often stalls at the mention of one word: privilege. For many, being told they have privilege feels like an accusation that diminishes their own hard work and struggles. Tulshyan, however, reframes this concept entirely. Citing organizational psychologist John Amaechi, the book explains that acknowledging privilege doesn't make your life easy, but it helps you understand why others' lives are harder than they should be. The point isn't to assign blame but to recognize systemic advantages.

The book challenges readers to see privilege not as a source of guilt, but as a tool. The focus should be on dismantling oppressive systems—like patriarchy and white supremacy—rather than attacking individuals. A powerful historical example illustrates this perfectly. In the 1950s, the legendary Black jazz singer Ella Fitzgerald was denied a booking at a famous Hollywood club. Marilyn Monroe, a white actress at the peak of her fame, used her immense privilege to intervene. She called the owner and promised to sit at the front table every single night of Fitzgerald's performance, guaranteeing a flood of press. The owner agreed, and as Fitzgerald later said, "After that, I never had to play a small jazz club again." Monroe didn't just offer sympathy; she used her power to open a door and then stepped aside to let Fitzgerald shine.

Narrator: Inclusion is not an innate trait; it is a skill that must be learned and practiced. Tulshyan introduces the "inclusion mindset," which is built on the foundation of Carol Dweck's growth mindset—the belief that abilities can be developed through dedication and hard work. To help leaders cultivate this, she offers the BRIDGE framework.

BRIDGE is an acronym for six key actions: Be uncomfortable, Reflect on what you don't know, Invite feedback, Defensiveness doesn't help, Grow from mistakes, and Expect that change takes time. The story of Jodi-Ann Burey, a Black woman hired to lead DEI at a startup, powerfully illustrates the difference between a leader with a fixed mindset and one with an inclusion mindset. At the startup, when Burey presented her work, the CEO publicly reprimanded her, and no one spoke up. The environment was toxic, and she eventually quit. In a previous role, however, when Burey raised concerns about racial inclusivity to her white male CEO, he listened without defensiveness, and they worked together to make lasting changes. That leader was willing to cross the BRIDGE; he was uncomfortable, he reflected, and he grew from the feedback, creating a culture where progress was possible.

Narrator: Individual mindsets are crucial, but they are not enough. Organizations must also dismantle the biased systems that perpetuate inequality. The book targets two of the most pervasive: hiring for "culture fit" and pay inequity. "Culture fit" is often a code for hiring people who look and think like the existing team, reinforcing homogeneity. The book tells the story of Tiffany Tate, a highly qualified Black woman who was rejected for a director position because another candidate was a "better fit." She received no constructive feedback, leaving her to suspect that her identity was the real reason. Tulshyan argues that organizations must shift to hiring for "culture add," seeking candidates who bring new perspectives and experiences.

Similarly, the gender pay gap is compounded for women of color. The author shares her own experience of discovering that a white female consultant, Cara, was being paid double her rate for the same work. Only by speaking up did she get her rate adjusted. To combat this, the book advocates for radical transparency, including banning questions about salary history and eliminating salary negotiations altogether, instead offering a fair, predetermined salary for the role.

Narrator: Why do so many brilliant ideas from women of color never see the light of day? The answer often lies in a lack of psychological safety—the shared belief that it is safe to take interpersonal risks. When employees fear being humiliated, punished, or ignored for speaking up, they stay silent. The story of Shefali Kulkarni, an Indian American journalist, is a chilling example. After being racially profiled and aggressively threatened by security at the Republican National Convention, her white manager made a dismissive joke instead of offering support. Feeling she had no one to turn to, Kulkarni never reported the traumatic incident.

To build psychological safety, Tulshyan offers the ADAPT framework: Analyze employee data, Develop a code of conduct, Accept failure, Propel and fund Employee Resource Groups (ERGs), and establish Team tenets on DEI. When psychological safety exists, innovation flourishes. The book notes that the first corporate ERG was formed at Xerox in 1964 for Black employees. This commitment to centering Black voices created a pathway for Ursula Burns to become the first Black female CEO of a Fortune 500 company in 2009.

Narrator: The final section of the book looks to the future, focusing on the immense power of the technology industry to either perpetuate or mitigate inequality. Technology is not neutral. As MIT technologist Joy Buolamwini discovered, facial recognition software often failed to detect her face unless she wore a white mask, a direct result of biased training data.

The story of Ifeoma Ozoma at Pinterest reveals the human cost of this bias. When Ozoma, a Black woman, flagged that the company was promoting former slave plantations as wedding venues, she was punished in her performance review. Later, after she was doxxed by a colleague, the company was slow to act. She eventually left and became a key advocate for the Silenced No More Act in California, legislation that protects employees who speak out about discrimination. Her story is a powerful call to action: the future must be built by diverse creators. To create inclusive technology, we must recruit, sponsor, and fund women of color, ensuring they are the architects of our future, not just subjects of biased algorithms.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Inclusion on Purpose is that inclusion is not a destination or a checklist item. It is an active, ongoing, and intentional practice. It requires moving beyond neutrality—which, as Archbishop Desmond Tutu said, is to choose the side of the oppressor—and actively working to dismantle the systems that create inequity. It is a lifelong commitment to examining our own biases, challenging our organizations, and using our privilege to open doors for others.

The book leaves us with the profound and challenging philosophy of Ubuntu: "I am because we are." This idea of interconnectedness reframes the work of inclusion not as a zero-sum game of hoarded power, but as a collective endeavor. Creating a workplace where a woman of color can thrive is not just for her benefit; it is for the benefit of all, leading to more innovative, just, and successful organizations. The future is not something that happens to us; it is something we create. The question is, will we create it on purpose?