In the midst of my Ramadan fast, I found myself on a water taxi with my two favorite people–my husband and sister. They had surprised me for my birthday with an activity they knew I’d love: enjoying a breezy spring day gliding on the Potomac as we passed the majestic monuments that adorn our nation’s capital. The magnificence and magic of Washington, DC never gets old for me, no matter how old I get!

I fell in love with Washington and its rich history when I first visited days after graduating high school, not knowing then as a native Californian that I’d end up living in the DC metro area someday. With a busy day job during the week and hectic weekends spent seeing to logistics and planning for the week ahead, I–like so many who take where they live for granted–don’t set aside time to enjoy where I am and how breathtakingly marvelous it is!

Knowing this, my sister and husband planned this perfect birthday outing. They timed it flawlessly between afternoon and sunset prayers so as not to disrupt our Ramadan schedule, and ensured the activity would be relaxing and low-key rather than something after which we would crave food or drink.

As it turned out, the boat ride wasn’t the only surprise in store for me that day. My sister and husband had cooked my favorite family recipe of steak and mushrooms along with other delectable courses for iftar (the meal after breaking our fast), ordered a mouth-watering Ferrero Rocher birthday cake, and invited a dear friend to dine with us after evening prayers to ring in my big day!

As I reflected on the thoughtfulness with which they had choreographed my birthday, I appreciated how my family and friend, who ate iftar with us at 10pm in light of our long evening prayers, had modelled creative inclusion. I had sourly predicted my birthday would be a bore because, given the later sunset and prayer timings, we wouldn’t be able to go out and celebrate that evening and our day would be shot due to fasting. I never dreamed that a non-foodie activity could be executed in the afternoon, and that my family would plan a festive, intimate dinner party at home!

Reclining in the living room in a pleasant food coma, I told them all they were a model of creative inclusion, musing how more companies and institutions need to adopt their creative thinking.

“What do you mean?” my sister inquired quizzically.

“Look at how you all planned today–mindful of Ramadan prayers, still finding ways to have fun without food, and circumventing the need to go to a restaurant. You just found other ways to make this day fun and meaningful. Corporations and institutions that want to use social settings as a means of creating shared identity and belonging or conducting networking need to do that!” I explained.

My friend, who had attended business school recently, nodded vigorously. “Reconceiving our business socials isn’t even limited to including religious identities. Every business school event was at a bar – and a loud one with terrible acoustics! As a blind person, it’s impossible to hear in those settings or have meaningful conversations. I can barely hear myself think!”

I concurred. “Our weekly law school networking activity was literally called bar review!”

Recalling a more recent happy hour I had attended that several professional networks jointly host in Washington once a month, I had the same complaint as did people without disabilities or my religious identity. Several of uswho attended that event left early because we found the music too loud, the drinking uninteresting, and the atmosphere not conducive to casual or meaningful conversation. We all agreed we likely wouldn’t be back because that professional networking atmosphere wasn’t our scene.

Nonetheless, I find that many organizations and institutions–both educational and professional, in the public and private sectors–have yet to conceive, adopt, and model creative inclusion. Most organizers and event planners aren’t intentionally or maliciously trying to exclude. They’re simply not thinking about who they are leaving out or making unwelcome, nor are they incentivized to do so.

Inclusion isn’t just about how you help a student or employee feel valued on your team, in your classroom or in the office setting. It’s about how you plan the company picnics and get-togethers, the informal networking events, the offsites, and the evening socials and happy hours so that everyone feels like there is a place for them at one or a few of these events over the course of a year. If the events are structured to exclude people based on their religious, cultural, disability, or other identities from their inception, then the unsurprising consequence will be a lack of belonging and lowered morale some members of your institutions and organizations may feel. Those who don’t feel welcomed may leave over time or may get through a program without enjoying its full benefits, privileges, and potential for personal and professional growth. These outcomes are sub-optimal for institutions and organizations purporting to build an inclusive reputation and culture. Fostering inclusion with intentionality requires a commitment to listen and be creative.

Nearly a decade ago in her graduate program at New York University, my sister challenged one of her cohort members: “Does every social activity have to involve going to a loud, crowded bar or drinking? What about those of us who don’t want to drink or don’t want to be around alcohol for religious reasons?”

And it’s not all about religion. Maybe there are recovering alcoholics. Maybe they don’t like the noise. Maybe–after COVID–they find it overwhelming to be around loud throngs of people. Back then, my sister suggested planning game nights, movie nights, or other activities every once in a while that didn’t constitute “a happy hour.” Other ideas include planning happy hours with signature mocktails instead of cocktails, and in quieter spaces more conducive for mingling in small, scattered groups rather than tight, pulsating places in which people have no choice but to constantly brush up against each other.

A decade ago, these concepts were anathema to her colleague, who didn’t see the need to do anything differently. Today, as we collectively consider how to lead inclusive teams and organizations, how to ensure that the privileges and benefits of association through our networks and institutions are equitable and accessible for all, and how to instill tangible markers of inclusion in our corporate and institutional cultures, I’m optimistic there will be a welcome reception to conversations on creative inclusion and strategies to execute it.

What strategies have you employed to facilitate greater inclusion in your networking, social, and work events? What worked well, and what backfired? I look forward to learning from your successes and failures and sharing my own in the future. Talk with you again next week!