Anne Chow On Creating Belonging for Each Member of Your Workforce

"Small leadership forces everyone into the same box—or square cubicle. Leading bigger creates team environments where people can be their true selves and still belong."

Today, we desire to work in an environment where we feel like we belong, but on our terms rather than someone else’s.In my early corporate career, women had to dress in ways that mimicked male business dress codes. (Confession: I had a fashion allergy to pearls and cotton bow blouses, no matter how much I tried to embrace the outfits that would help me “fit in.”) Women were coached never to talk at work about having kids at home, lest their colleagues remember they were mothers, which somehow implied a risk to their commitment to the job! (Ever wonder why we specify “working moms,” but never “working dads”?)

When I started my career, I felt like an anomaly. I was young, female, and Asian in a field then dominated by older white men. I felt pressure from myself and my counterparts to fit into a corporate archetype I wasn’t conventionally a part of. It started with the scratchy cotton blouses, which seemed to be the uniform of choice for corporate women. Both the discomfort and lack of individual expression in the attire rubbed me the wrong way (figuratively and literally!). But I conformed for several years because other young women in my situation were also dressing that way and I thought it was what I had to do to get ahead. I also felt challenged by how I wanted to communicate and present myself. I intentionally developed a manner of speaking that was both direct and warm so I could better connect with people. Because it was obvious that I was different—in age, tenure, gender, race, education, and more—I was mindful of how I demonstrated my authenticity. Early on, the diversity of my ideas and my problem-solving were the indicators of my authenticity. It was only later in my career that I allowed my authenticity to show up even more—in how I built relationships, the words I chose to communicate with, the style I’d use depending on my audience and objectives. During those early days, I was both mindful and purposeful in how I chose to show up because it was obvious that I was different.

I was reminded of these differences in my very first role at AT&T. My boss told me she wanted to put me in charge while she went on a month-long vacation, which was already scheduled for six months after my start date. We worked on getting me ready, and on the first day she was gone, my colleagues transformed her office, labeling anything that was hers as mine. Rather than feeling embarrassed or indignant, I actually thought it was hilarious. To some it may have seemed a light form of hazing, but to me, it was their way of acknowledging and including me in the group, albeit temporarily as their supervisor.

Unfortunately, not all of my early interactions were so constructive. There were plenty of times when my contributions were brushed off with “Kiddo, you just don’t have the experience on this one.” Or when my ideas were mansplained over and over, no matter how assertive I was. It was difficult to be the only female voice in the room, let alone the only woman of color in the entire department!

There was an expectation by some that I should just put my head down and work hard—after all, aren’t all Asians good at that? When I first broached my interest in advancing my career to a supervisor, he was surprised and said that he “wouldn’t have expected me” to want that. I’m still not sure what was the source of his bias—perhaps it was my lack of experience or exposure, or simply the fact that I didn’t match the profile of what he thought an aspiring leader should be like.
It was during these first five years of my career when I also ran into the fairly universal assumption that as a single person, I should carry more of the weight of work, especially when it came to after-hours and the weekends. I found this irritating, often musing to myself why people thought that the notion of “family first” applied only to certain views of family. Silently, I vowed to think and lead bigger if given the opportunity. I’d ensure that there wasn’t an inadvertent bias toward people who weren’t married or who weren’t parents in the most traditional sense. Bottom line, bigger leaders know better. And they work hard to apply expectations fairly and inclusively. As I said earlier, interpersonal flexibility is key.

Small leadership forces everyone into the same box—or square cubicle. Leading bigger creates team environments where people can be their true selves and still belong.

Back when I considered myself an introverted engineer, I endured many unbearable happy hours, mostly because I was told that it was important to be seen. In fact, one of my bosses said that I needed to show up at these if I ever hoped to get close to the powerful, popular crowd. My level of discomfort measured 11 on a scale of 10, partially because I was always the only woman of color and oftentimes the youngest person in the room. I also wasn’t a big drinker. I finally worked for a leader who provided me with a slick way to handle these events. Show up fifteen minutes late and get a tonic water or a ginger ale, some beverage that looks adult (to circumvent the “Can I get you a drink? Why aren’t you drinking?” commentary). Intentionally circle the room twice and then go. Done in no more than an hour. As time went on, I also learned that if you brought a buddy, these experiences were much more tolerable and even occasionally enjoyable.

Belonging is central to all humans, as Julia Taylor Kennedy and Pooja Jain-Link of the think tank Coqual write: “Psychologists rank our need to belong on par with our need for love.” We come into this world as part of something greater than ourselves. Think about the language used in various cultures—villages, tribes, clans, dynasties—or your home bases in school—homeroom, class, teams, societies, clubs. Then there are your affiliations as an adult: your alma mater, major, hometown, place of worship, neighborhood, or profession. These are logical groupings of commonality that foster that sense of belonging.

Inclusion is an action; belonging is the essential outcome of that action. When inclusion becomes systemic, belonging is what results. And belonging can be manifested in meaningful sustained connection, community, comfort, and deep engagement. While a sense of belonging is familiar to all of us, we haven’t always addressed belonging in professional work cultures. So let’s place this in the context of leading bigger in the workforce.

Humans have always had to work. Certainly we do work to survive, to provide for both ourselves and our loved ones. What each of us needs to survive, though, is quite personal and spans a diverse range of requirements such as a base level income for shelter and sustenance, as well as access to healthcare. But our work is also what we do to thrive. We want to be fulfilled. We want to find meaning and grow. We want to become more than who we currently are. We want to feel trusted, valued, and appreciated. We want to solve problems and be recognized for our contributions, and many of us seek passion in our work, in pursuit of our greater calling.

Perhaps surprisingly, 34 percent of people feel a greater sense of belonging at work than in their neighborhood or place of worship. But not everyone strives to find deep meaning in their work. They need to belong in another context, fulfilling some aspiration, passion project, or ideal. In these instances, the day job may simply be necessary to provide a path for that person’s bigger purpose, which can turn into a meaningful side hustle.

A lack of belonging can also lead people to suffer from the so-called impostor syndrome, the belief that one is inadequate and not qualified, at risk of being seen as a fraud. This struggle is commonly shared among high achievers. Bigger leaders learn how to move from self-doubt and the fear of not meeting goals to an ongoing quest for excellence and realization of their fullest potential.

‍