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When I worked in corporate, it took very little time for me to realize I was expected to do a disproportionate amount of “office housework.” Whether it was ordering lunch, sharing meeting notes, or scheduling, I — often the only woman of color in the room — was like the de facto secretary, as if we were in an episode of Mad Men. (I’m not throwing shade on any person who works in these important roles, by the way. It is vital and valuable work! The problem? It wasn’t my role.) If you’re a woman of color, you know this all too well. And while I refuse to put the onus on us to “fix” this problem, I want to help women of color confidently say “no” in these situations at work. Without further ado, I’m sharing advice from successful women (of color) — including some of your comments! — to say a strategic “no” to office housework requests without being penalized: 1. Arm yourself with evidence. Make a list of revenue-generating tasks you’re responsible for, as well as all the non-revenue generating expectations placed on you. Create similar lists for men at the same level in your organization, and take those lists to your boss. 2. Check with your manager. You can always double-check with your managers if you’re asked to take on non-essential work. If your boss agrees that the task isn’t necessary or worth your time, it’s easier to avoid the backlash from saying no. 3. Use humor. I’m not humorous by nature, but making light of the situation has helped me. I once responded, “I’d rather John ordered lunch as I’m already in charge of meals at home,” then cracked a smile. My friend Selena Rezvani had this suggestion for a humorous comeback: “Research shows that I’m more likely to get asked to do this kind of thing than you, and that you’re going to like me less when I decline. But guess what I’m going to do?” 😉 4. Practice saying no with allies. Unsurprisingly, it gets easier to say “no” with practice! Cultivating such a network of allies becomes particularly important for women of color as we progress. Enlist colleagues to help you figure out collectively how to refuse office housework requests in a manner that feels authentic to you. 5. Virtual office housework is still...office housework. The usual suspects like ordering lunch and planning office birthdays went away, and were swiftly replaced by organizing virtual happy hours and sending calendar invites for team meetings. Take stock if you're disproportionately getting stuck with the virtual (often even more invisible than the in-office kind) office housework. Then suggest a rotation system. This could look like: "I've been scheduling all the virtual meetings this week, I'd like to rotate through each team member to take it on weekly. John, you in for next week?" BONUS! In a previous Inclusion Is Leadership, readers shared some of their own tips for refusing office housework. I’m sharing them here! Say “no” and give a reason - Uma Thana Balasingam If you’re asked to take on office housework, do it once graciously, then work behind the scenes to ensure the task is rotated among your coworkers. Then, seek out career-enhancing assignments. Filling your plate with high-value work empowers you to turn down undervalued work. You might say, “I’d love to help, but I’m working with Ted on an important strategic initiative. Joe would be perfect for this.” Stand up for others first - Dr. Jacqueline Kerr If you don't have the confidence to do it for yourself, stand up and point it out when it happens to others. This might be an easier first step, and maybe another woman will see your example and do the same for you or someone else. Advice for white men - Paolo Gaudiano My advice to other white men is to start paying attention and you will be surprised to realize how often this happens. If you witness this, you are in a position to speak up! "Hey, it doesn't always seem fair to ask XYZ to do this, how about if we do a signup sheet and take turns?" or "Here, let me do that!" And if you are in charge of performance reviews, compensation or promotion, ask yourself: is this person contributing something that is not in the job description, but that is clearly beneficial to the company? What would we lose if they left the organization? If you’re asked to do a disproportionate amount of “office housework” at your job, it’s not your fault. This truth needs to be repeated, especially in a power structure that feeds off making you feel bad about the challenges you face. Pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps mythology is very good at making us feel like we’re the problem when we repeatedly hit roadblocks. Not on my watch. We must never stop calling for leaders to understand and work toward mitigating the impact of office housework on the careers of multicultural women. Nonetheless, I encourage all of us to exercise our right to say no to these requests. What’s your most-used tactic to say a firm “no”? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

It’s never up to you to “fix” systemic problems. Racism is not your fault. Sexism is not your fault. And neither is this unfortunate phenomenon at the intersection of both: women of color are overwhelmingly expected to do more “office housework” than their white and male peers. Office housework is the important but unthanked (and unpromotable) work that every organization needs — taking meeting notes, scheduling meetings, ensuring there are snacks in office...etc. The opposite of it is glamour work. Sound familiar? In fact, new research shows the non-promotable work for women has been supercharged in the pandemic. Last week on LinkedIn I wrote about how overburdening women of color with office housework holds back our careers and leaves us with two unwelcome options: 1. take on the housework and reinforce unfair expectations, or 2. say no and risk being penalized. 😒 The solution is to change the culture of our organizations. To make them truly inclusive so office housework is shared and compensated equitably among everyone, without question. But that takes time. And in the meanwhile, we still have our jobs to do! That’s why I’m sharing this roundup of advice from successful women of color with scripts to turn down and negotiate office housework requests without being penalized: 1. Have a watertight refusal ready. You might say: “I was hired to do X and doing Y would take away time from completing X well.” For on-the-spot requests like ordering lunch, I’ve used, “I need to be present during this discussion as it’s critical to what I’m working on.” For longer-term requests, like being asked to lead mentoring activities, I’ve said, “I’m working on [very important project], and I’m concerned I won’t have the bandwidth to be helpful to [said mentee.]” 2. Ask for more information. You can ask the requester why they’re specifically asking you to do this extra labor with, “why do you think I’m a good fit for this?” Having them tell you what traits make you best suited to do the work forces them to pause and consider why they requested you do the labor in the first place. It also gives you some time and space to gather your thoughts so you don’t feel pressured to say “yes” right away. 3. Rotate tasks. If your team meets regularly, suggest that you all rotate tasks like getting lunch, taking notes, and following up. You could say, “I took notes last week, so let’s set up a rotation.” This sets the expectation that everyone has equal value to contribute. 4. If you can’t say no, at least get credit for the work. Sometimes there’s no way to decline the work. When that happens, find a way to acknowledge that the work is “extra labor.” You want to make it clear in performance reviews and conversations with your manager that these chores are not part of your job description. 5. Use your influence to break norms. As you climb the ranks, make sure to pay it forward. When someone suggests that the smart new manager you’re mentoring could set up the booth at an expo, call out that it’s below their pay grade: “I don’t think that’s a good use of her experience and skills.” I hope this advice helps you in real-time. But it bears repeating: it’s imperative that leaders understand and work toward mitigating the impact of office housework on the careers of women of color. It’s not up to you to change the system. Nonetheless, I encourage all of us to exercise our right to say no to these requests. I’d love to hear your feedback: do you have a favorite suggestion? Have you used any on the list? Do you have any to add? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

You’re in an all-day strategy session with your team. It’s coming up on the lunch hour. Without fail, all the heads in the room swivel towards you, the only woman of color present. Their expectation is clear: obviously, you’ll be ordering everyone’s lunch. Every woman of color I know has stories like this. Whether it’s arranging food and beverages, taking notes, or coordinating meeting times, women of color are disproportionately expected to shoulder “office housework.” No wonder so many of us have no interest in returning to the office! Office Housework Rarely Gets a Raise And it’s not just anecdotal. Research has shown that women and people of color often end up with worse assignments than their white male counterparts. In their article about the research, Joan C. Williams and Marina Multhaup define these “worse assignments” as: administrative work like the examples above, important but undervalued work, like keeping track of contracts, and work that isn’t tied to revenue goals. In other words, tasks that are far less likely to result in promotion. While I certainly cannot speak for all women of color, I feel confident that we share these experiences: situations where (white) male coworkers blithely assume that it’s a woman of color’s duty to do less-important work around the office. Not only is it harmful, it’s straight-up ridiculous! One woman told me: “I’m often asked to shut the door in a meeting, even if I’m sitting far away from the door.” (Emphasis mine.) Research shows that white women face challenges to advancement in every industry. However, the statistics for women of color reveal that we face the worst game of jeopardy: double jeopardy. We experience bias related to both our gender and our race. Two Unappealing Options Sure, shutting the door or ordering lunch won’t derail your day. But do these tasks repeatedly and the time adds up. Even more harmful? Office housework negatively reinforces the power dynamics that place – and keep – women of color in lower positions. So we’re faced with two unappealing options: do the tasks and risk being expected to always do them, or say no and risk being penalized. A manager at a technology company I spoke to put it plainly. “As a visibly Black woman in the workplace, I am often caught in a double-bind where if I don’t accept the office housework, I’m considered an ‘Angry Black’ woman.” What’s the solution? Let’s be clear: the culture of these organizations must change so people in power don’t target women of color with these requests. Inclusion is leadership, and we must continue pushing our leaders to see it and practice it. But that takes time, and waiting for change doesn’t help you right now. I always hesitate to put the onus on individuals to fix the problem. Systemic racism and sexism are not your fault, so why should you be in charge of solutions? But I want to offer tips to help women of color who find themselves in these situations. If these tips can help you say no to office housework and yes to that stretch assignment that will earn you a promotion? Then we all win. How do you cope with being assigned office housework — especially in the era of remote work? Got any handy scripts or comebacks or communication tips? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

On LinkedIn, I wrote about the challenges and perils of speaking up as a woman of color at work. The first step in addressing a problem is acknowledging it. Check. So now what? Where. Do. We. Go. From. Here? On the practical side, it can help to have some responses queued and ready, so that you’re prepared when you face bias at work: Interrupted in a meeting? “Just a sec, I’m going to finish my thought.” Some dude sharing the idea you just put forth? “Yes Bob, I said the same thing just now. Glad we’re on the same page.” Keep hearing someone else (a woman of color) being interrupted? “I’d really like to hear what Ria has to say, so please let her finish.” Getting microaggression-y comments about how you’re so aggressive/strong/assertive? “I’m glad you appreciate the way I advocate for myself. I take this same approach to advocating for my team/peers/customers/students...too.” No matter how ready your comeback, it’s so wrong to have to put up with this. And yet. And yet. You know what to do: you keep on speaking up, knowing that you’re confronting harmful stereotypes. Inclusive leadership is rarely glamorous and never Instagrammable. Rather, it’s leading by example, even (or especially) when you’re overworked, fed up, or heartbroken. Is it exhausting? Yes. Is it unfair? One hundred percent. But if there’s any silver lining to this heavy cloud, it’s that pushback proves that we’re doing it right. And the more of us push to create a culture that celebrates women of color’s voices, the more normalized it becomes in our culture. We’re here. We’re taking up space. We’re defying stereotypes (though we shouldn’t have to!) We’re producing brilliant, game-changing work. We’re not sorry. We’re making the workplace — and the world — brighter and easier for the people who are right behind us. I hope that gives you fire in your belly, just like it does for me. What obstacles have you faced when raising your voice at work as a woman of color? How do you support yourself to keep going? Hit reply and let me know — I would love to hear your stories. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

Imagine you’re having lunch with your boss on your first day in a new job. They tilt their head at you, perplexed. “But if you’re from Singapore,” they say. “How do you speak English without an accent?” SIGH. Many of you don’t have to imagine such a scenario — you can remember it like it was yesterday! (Unfortunately, it happens often enough.) There you are, bringing your experience, creativity and passion to a new role, and in a snap you’re reduced to your race, ethnicity, or gender. The perils of “speaking while female” exist for all women. And while I could never claim to speak for every woman of color, my research over nearly a decade confirms that there's a marked difference between speaking as a white woman versus as a woman of color. The unique challenges of “working as a woman of color” have become better-documented in recent years. And if you need a refresher, look no further than this headline: Some Black women feel safer working from home and are opting out of office life to escape workplace racism. Enough said. The Unintended Upside of Speaking Up As a Woman of Color But it’s not all doom-and-gloom. Sometimes speaking up as a woman of color can propel your career forward, and cultivate powerful relationships. I interviewed Michelle Y. Talbert in 2015, when she was one of three attorneys of color at her firm. One white male partner who she worked with most closely was "notoriously belligerent, however very smart." When Talbert, a Black woman, was publicly grilled by him in a meeting, she came prepared, didn't back down, and "did not show any aggression in response to his histrionics." It worked in her favor – Talbert enjoyed an "amazingly collegial mentor/mentee relationship" with the partner thereafter, and other attorneys respected her for making it through the wringer. To be clear, Dr. Ashleigh Shelby Rosette's research confirms that some Black women leaders are regarded positively when they display agentic behaviors like Talbert did, but concludes that the overall impact of bias against Black women supersedes these slight positive gains. We still need to focus on creating inclusive environments, especially for women of color. Where Do We Go From Here? In my next Inclusion Is Leadership, I’m sharing where we go from here, including practical responses so you have a “ready comeback” when you hear aggressive comments about your appearance, hair, accent, and more. No, you shouldn’t have to be prepared, but here we are. What have you heard after “speaking as a woman of color at work”? Have you gotten positive feedback, like Michelle Talbert did? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

I am honored and excited to share my BIG news with you. But first, a staggering statistic: Eighty-nine percent of published books are written by white authors. Yes, you read that right. More on that in a sec, but first…. It’s with massive pleasure to announce that I’m joining the eleven percent of published authors of color! Without further ado, please see the cover of Inclusion on Purpose! What do you think!? I’m super excited about this next book. It centers the stories of women of color in the workplace and shares tangible actions to work towards an anti-racist, gender-inclusive workplace and society. I’m also humbled that my friend, NYT-bestselling author Ijeoma Oluo, wrote a foreword for it that brings out all the feelings. I would love for you to pre-order it here, from your favorite bookstore. It will be out on February 8, 2022. And, if the world permits, I may be speaking about it in your town next year! More on those details as I have them. Why #PublishingIsSoWhite Ok, so now that I’ve shared my big news, we should talk about publishing being so white. There are many reasons–racism chief among them–why people of color, particularly women of color, don’t get top book deals: Eighty-five percent of publishing decision makers are white. White leaders promote other white people’s books. White-run media gives white authors prime television/website/radio/podcast coverage. The racial wealth gap and racist access to disposable income. One in seven white American families are millionaires vs. one in fifty Black families. But the most insidious reason why people of color don’t get book deals is because too many people subscribe to the myth of meritocracy. “If a book was good enough, no matter the author’s skin color, it would be a bestseller,” we think. “Audiences choose not to read these books.” I address this false narrative and many more in my book. And you know what helps change this narrative? Data. Like pre-order numbers, which tells publishers whether a book has the potential to sell or not. So please consider pre-ordering a copy here. And maybe one for a friend whose birthday is in February (like mine!)? Or any other month of the year? There’s also a lot of words that didn’t make the cut in the book. Make sure you are subscribed to get this exclusive access to this “extra” content, like interviews with amazing leaders (including Ijeoma) and more. I’ll also run giveaways for you to get signed copies on the day it releases! Stay tuned, please. Thanks for doing your part to show that there is, indeed, demand for the words of women of color. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

It’s easy to wallow in self-pity when you get rejected. I caught myself doing it this week. So to ground myself, I took a trip down memory lane to 2017. Back then, the publication I wanted most deeply, truly, madly to write for was HBR.org (Harvard Business Review’s website). I was a voracious HBR reader for years. Every morning, I refreshed the homepage, hungrily reading the latest stories. I followed the editors on Twitter, tweeting quips back, trying to build a rapport. I asked around if anyone could make an introduction–but the few folks I knew who were connected were (understandably) reluctant. These relationships are hard-won! I pitched many times on the generic website form, but no one ever responded. Then, after nearly a year of trying to connect (and overcoming years of me telling myself I shouldn’t bother trying), their executive editor followed me back on Twitter. I tried to collect myself as I slid into her DMs (um, my cooler friends tell me this turn of phrase can be misinterpreted but it was strictly professional). She proceeded to say she was open to being pitched by me! When I sent a story idea, she said she’d be happy to read a draft. You can imagine how excited I was! I threw everything at it. But after several weeks of bated breath, she declined. I was absolutely crushed. So close and yet so far! After months of back and forth, another pitch and draft were finally accepted. The first article I wrote for HBR.org went live in April 2018! Fast forward three years and I’m proud to be a regular contributor and have great, trusting relationships with my editors there. I write this to reflect, celebrate and express gratitude. It’s easy to take for granted the doors we walk through that we once would have done anything to open for us. And sometimes, in a culture of always moving forward, of FOMO as we see others succeeding, of trying to work through yet another rejection (I’ve had several this year), it can be helpful to take stock of how far we’ve come. Why does this matter for inclusive leaders? Because the work we do can be hard, painful and lonely. Solve one “problem” and up spring another 100. Diversity, Equity, Inclusion work is like that. So many obstacles, so many rejections. I’m using the HBR example as one that hopefully we can all identify with…detailing a tangible goal I once had (write for HBR!), striving with all my heart and soul for it until I achieved it. But then sometimes I take that accomplishment for granted because I’m too busy looking ahead and licking my wounds from new rejections. Nothing wrong with looking ahead and acknowledging that rejection hurts. But on the days you feel dejected, frustrated or even just exhausted, remember to look back, too. What are the doors you now breeze past that you once wished would open? Can you take a few minutes today to reflect on how far you’ve come, to build rocket fuel for the journey ahead? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

A revolution is happening. I’ve been seeing it for a while, but it burst into bright, brilliant bloom last week thanks to Nikole Hannah-Jones. If you’re living under a rock (or you’re outside the U.S. and busy reading pandemic updates in your area), Nikole Hannah-Jones is the Pulitzer-Prize winning New York Times journalist who created The 1619 Project. It should be required reading. In May she was denied tenure as a UNC journalism professor because some people (read: white people) took issue with the project’s framing of American history to (rightfully) center Black American narratives and the painful legacy of slavery. When she was finally offered tenure after protests and a national controversy, Hannah-Jones declined. She is now set to join the faculty of the historically Black Howard University. There are fantastic takes on the whole tale, which is a sad study in racism, anti-Blackness, misogynoir and white fragility. I won’t rehash them (please prioritize reading Black women when you do. Fortune’s Ellen McGirt is a great place to start, as well as Karen Attiah who first surfaced the quote about going where you’re celebrated). But the saga also illuminates the strong and consistent pushback I’m seeing from women of color against being forced to work in places that will barely accept or (if you’re lucky) tolerate you. Somewhere in the past few years, I too said I’ve had enough. I refused to work with people who couldn’t make an effort to get my name right. I refused to work with people (of all genders) who made sexist jokes, or white people who said overtly racist things: “How come your English is so good?” I refused to work for clients who underpaid or mistreated me. When in doubt, I began to prioritize my health and joy over $. My refusal came with a big pay cut at first. It enrages me when I think about all the money I and others like me lose when we refuse to merely be tolerated. But I made a commitment that I will always choose spaces where I’m welcomed. I know I’m not alone. Inclusive leaders will notice that more people from marginalized backgrounds are saying NO to half-hearted invitations. Rather than bringing folding chairs to a table where there’s no seat for them (thanks, Shirley Chisholm), more women of color are building brand new tables: Rather than join the “pale, male and stale” accounting firm to help the company tick a diversity box, they’re setting up a women of color-run CPA firm. Instead of bearing with yet another trans-toxic boss, they’re collaborating with LGBTQ-owned companies. Instead of just putting up with exclusionary colleagues, they’re creating whole institutions to nurture the next generation of students from underestimated backgrounds. Ms. Nikole Hannah-Jones’ example is a large, visible one. But there are many all around us. Can you spot the quiet, brave revolutions taking place all around you? Seeing more people move courageously to where they’re celebrated, not merely tolerated? Pay attention. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

My life’s purpose is to share stories that are underreported and overlooked. So for this letter, I’m turning over the keys to Jasmine Barta, my incredible website and newsletter designer. Growing up, my family and I would take a road trip from New Mexico to Arizona to visit my grandparents at least once a year. And every year the same CDs played over the car speakers. (My parents are fond of the oldies.) One year, when I was a teenager, "It's a Man's Man's Man's World" by James Brown played as it had the year before, and the year before that, during our trips. But this time the lyrics struck me differently: “This is a man's world This is a man's world But it would be nothing, nothing Without a woman or a girl” The lyrics rang true. It did feel like a man’s world, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. And the world wouldn’t be anything without the strong, beautiful, talented women I knew and looked up to… so why did it still feel like a man’s world? Over 10 years later a moment resurfaced that memory and made it all click into place with a startling clarity. It was almost like a retroactive realization. It happened when I read “Meeting Harry Styles and what it taught me about ‘gender contamination’ in business” by Katrine Marçal. She detailed her experience attending a press junket for the film Dunkirk: “The room was a bit chilly and most of the female journalists started putting cardigans and coats on. If you are familiar with the work of Caroline Criado Perez (which you all should be) you know that air conditioning temperature is often set based on a formula developed around the metabolic resting rate of the average forty-year old man. This is usually too cold for the average woman. Then Harry Styles came in.” In her story, Styles was the only man who noticed that the women looked cold and immediately asked if the heating could be turned up. He even tried to do it himself when no one acted upon it. But that brings me back to my realization I had when I read her piece: that men are the default. Despite all I know about sexism, ageism, and gender inequality and biases in the workforce,(and I’m still learning) it had still never truly occured to me that it extended so far beyond our careers. We live in a world that was built for men. The author Marçal cited earlier, Caroline Criado Perez, has collected a lot of data on this subject for her book, Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men. And it goes way beyond the standard office temperature catering to men. The research ranges from annoying (I can’t reach the top shelves in my kitchen or bedroom because most architecture is traditionally built to cater to a six-foot-tall man) to heartbreakingly deadly. (Women are 47% more likely to be seriously injured in a car crash because cars, and car crash dummies, are built with the average man in mind.) And it doesn’t end there. Leslie Kern, author of Feminist City: Claiming Space in a Man-Made World writes about how cities, at their core, were planned for the needs of men. “All forms of urban planning draw on a cluster of assumptions about the ‘typical’ urban citizen: their daily travel plans, needs, desires, and values,” writes Kern. “Shockingly, this citizen is a man.” And what makes that even more frustrating is that when men are the default and women are near-invisible, there's no room in the existing structure to design a world to include gender nonbinary individuals who so deserve to be seen. How do we combat sexism and gender bias when it’s literally built into the infrastructure? I think it starts with simply noticing, and starting conversations. What are everyday things you encounter that you realize weren't built with women in mind? And who are you going to tell about it? ... Jasmine Barta is a former journalist and current website designer, social media marketer, and publicist for authors, small businesses, and nonprofits around the world. She lives in Seattle with her tiny black cat and spends her free time devouring books, playing music, and planning her next adventure. You can find her here. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

Every Monday morning, my stomach would be in knots as I walked into the office. I knew what was in store. My coworkers would talk about their weekends, laugh raucously at inside jokes, talk about how they enjoyed meeting each other and their respective partners/kids/pets/families. I was never invited. The first few times I tried to join in the conversation, I’d get a polite smile or awkward silence. Soon, I knew my place: Quiet, smart, hard-working, boring Indian woman. So, I had to play the part. Mumble “good morning” and scurry to my desk. Look extremely fascinated by my screen–nothing could be more energizing than running the numbers this morning! Listen to the chatter of an almost-all-white office and majority male co-workers, while I kept my head down. No one cared about me or my weekend. To this day, nearly a decade later, I can viscerally remember the feeling of my stomach sinking when I badged in on Monday mornings. So when I interviewed 10 women of color over the last three months on how they feel about returning to the office this year, I felt their responses and fears in my bones. Read what they told me in the New York Times. What you need to know is this: many workers aren’t rushing back to the office for many, many reasons. But on top of “universal” ones (like the reluctance to give up the awesomeness of working from pajamas) is the very real fear for women of color of facing physical bias and exclusionary behavior again: Like being asked if we’ve had arranged marriages when we’re talking about data analytics (check.) Like being told our name is so pretty but gosh what a mouthful could there be a shorter version, while we were pitching a client (check.) Like being involuntarily patted on the shoulder, hair touched or having our physical space encroached upon (check! Check! Check!) If you believe inclusion is leadership, then you’ll be watching very closely for these unacceptable behaviors and working harder to create a work environment that’s inclusive to all. Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

Seven years ago, I walked away from my last full-time office job. I chose entrepreneurship for a variety of reasons (the usual suspects: being my own boss, having flexibility over my own schedule, working almost exclusively on issues I cared about.) But I had another reason. I wanted to take time off when I needed it. At my last corporate job, I remember visiting my family in Singapore and having to dial into meetings at all hours of the night to keep up with my U.S. coworkers. Out of a three week trip (after flying 24 hours to get to Singapore), I only really got two weeks “off,” and was expected to be back in the office the morning I returned, after the 24 hour journey back. I was supposed to just be grateful that my manager “let me” work from there. My “usual suspects” reasons for leaving that job weren’t even that bad. I’ve met people who were forced to work for themselves after being told by employers to return to work after losing a parent, a child, or dealing with a grave illness (let alone, being able to take a break just because!). Pardon my manners, but F- that. The “grind until you’re dead” culture in the U.S. is strong. At some point in the pandemic, I lifted my head and realized I had actually taken on more work over the past year. Whether it was in response to the hustle I saw around me or my anxiety in the face of uncertainty, I’m not sure. But I realized quickly I was ignoring one of the main reasons I started working for myself: to take breaks when I need them. Whether to visit family who live 24-hours-in-a-plane away, to attend a personal event, or to rest after a hectic work week. It should come as no surprise that U.S. workers are very, very overworked. One study found we leave 768 million vacation days unused. Many don’t even have vacation days as the U.S. does not mandate paid time off (ahem, not even for birthing a child). The time off I’m urging for does not mean “vacation” per se. I’m asking more of us to take a break — make what you will of that break. Meanwhile, here are a few things I’m re-committing to: Taking time for lunch everyday and not scheduling meetings between 12-2 PM. Here’s more about why lunch is sacred to me in Harvard Business Review. Taking at least one weekday off every month. Over summer, I plan to take a month off where I don’t take meetings, attend conferences or speak publicly. This year, it will be August and likely most of December. Focus on not feeling regret or FOMO for being offline. Instead, feeling gratitude and joy that I can focus on recharging myself. How do you take breaks? How do they make you feel (anxious, guilty, relieved, relaxed)? Does your workplace or boss support you when you need them? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.

Last week, I had to reschedule a meeting at the last minute. I went back and forth about the reason to give–it was sudden enough that I felt it was necessary to explain. Should I admit my son was sick and I had to keep him home from school? In the past I know I’ve judged women with childcare responsibilities, before I had my own (not among my proudest moments in life, by a long shot). I knew the person I was meeting was expecting a child, so, after some mental calculation and deciding that this person would likely not judge my professionalism for sharing childcare woes, I did. Side note: I am just as outraged as you that this mental calculation has to exist but in a society where there’s ZERO mandated paid maternity leave (forget paid caregiving leave) and 1 in 4 American mothers go back to work 10 days after giving birth, the anti-working mother sentiment is deep. Anyway, I also wrote: “I wouldn’t share the reason if I didn’t know you were expecting a child. We know prevailing gender biases would mean I may be perceived as less committed or competent, even by women, even by other mothers.” (Women are just as susceptible to gender bias as men, according to research. I’ve met a number of working mothers who experienced discrimination from other working mothers too.) She responded: “I’ve worked with men for years and I started noticing they never give a reason for rescheduling. Just: ‘I can’t make it. Does X time work instead?’ So I started doing that professionally and even personally. I just say, ‘thanks for inviting me, I can’t make it.’” Wow. I have so many thoughts: 1. People shouldn’t be expected to give a reason to reschedule. More women are socialized to offer a reason as we’re expected to justify what could be more important than attending said meeting, but why should we? 2. I would really like to see a change around the motherhood penalty. Women should not be penalized for being visible mothers. 3. Paired with a previous email exchange where someone ignored my unavailability due to struggling with my family being impacted by COVID in India, maybe this will mean I only share reasons with people who are close enough to offer support or empathy. When I reflected more on why I chose to share such a personal reason with someone I'm not close to, I realized I succumbed to the familiar pressure of not wanting to appear ungrateful for declining an opportunity without sharing a solid reason. Sigh. Yes, I have work to do like anyone else on this. 4. Most of all, inclusive leadership demands us to normalize sharing and choosing not to share. On one hand, we should not expect people, especially women, to owe a reason for unavailability. On the other, inclusive leaders must normalize when women (or anyone!) cite caregiving reasons for unavailability, rather than penalize us and perceive us as less committed or competent. I’m going to start trying out the no-reason reschedule for size. I’ll report back how it goes. Do you offer a reason for rescheduling or being unavailable for professional meetings? How about personally? Do you mention if those reasons are caregiving-related? Click here to subscribe to the weekly Inclusion is Leadership letter.