Hanif Fazal of Center for Equity and Inclusion: 5 Steps We Must Take To Truly Create An Inclusive, Representative, and Equitable Society

Everyone must be willing to position themselves as learners. Ultimately, equity is an ongoing learning journey in which we continue to see things we didn’t before; continue to learn how to work, behave and relate differently; and continue to evolve and grow from our work.

As part of our series about ‘5 Steps We Must Take To Truly Create An Inclusive, Representative, and Equitable Society’ I had the pleasure to interview Hanif Fazal.

Hanif Fazal is CEO and co-founder of the Center for Equity and Inclusion, a diversity, equity and inclusion consultancy that since 2015 has provided adaptive, interactive learning to help organizations nationwide build DEI capacity that centers the BIPOC experience. As a consulting agency for school systems, professional sports teams, health care organizations, nonprofits and foundations, CEI helps its clients shift their culture and gain the tools necessary to sustain equity for the long term.

Hanif also just completed a memoir, “In An Other World: From Survivor to Architect of a Black and Brown Centered Future”, in which he blends personal stories of his experiences with systemic racism and intersectional identities with larger lessons about resiliency and building a world in which people of color don’t just survive, but thrive.

Thank you so much for doing this with us! Before we dig in, our readers would like to ‘get to know you’. Can you tell us a bit about how you grew up?

Growing up for me felt like a constant struggle to hold onto who I knew myself to be in spaces that were never designed for me to thrive within.

I am full Mexican on my mother’s side, and full Indian on my father’s side. My father immigrated from Tanzania to the United States, where he met my mother in Chicago. Chicago is where I was born. From a class standpoint, growing up was a steady decline. While my mother and father were together, we could be considered firmly lower middle class. When my father left when I was in sixth grade, my mother raised me and my two sisters while earning minimum wage ($3.35/hour) at a 7–11. By the time I was 16, for a variety of reasons my family system fell apart and I was on my own just trying to survive. While growing up was challenging both from a class and family systems standpoint, my racial identity had the most profound impact in my life.

So, there are two words that capture how I grew up, in so many ways: mixed up. Whether it was racially or ethnically speaking, or from a class perspective, I was consumed by trying to figure out how to feel at home — and by at home, I mean rooted — in spaces that sounded like and acted like anything but the home I grew up in.

Is there a particular book that made a significant impact on you? Can you share a story or explain why it resonated with you so much?

“The Autobiography of Malcolm X” had more impact on me than any book I have ever read. I read it at about 19 or 20 years old, fresh off of a K-12 education in which I never intersected with any person of color. I never had a teacher of color, counselor of color, school secretary of color or administrator of color. I never had a coach of color, or a mentor of color. I never even worked for a person of color. Being immersed in this kind of whiteness had a debilitating impact on me emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually. It was hard to not succumb to the ubiquitous narratives and beliefs that painted me as not as intelligent, not as beautiful, not as safe, not worth as much as my white counterparts.

When I got my hands on Malcolm’s autobiography, I found my first mentor of color. I found someone who had a way of speaking to my experience in a manner that felt like he understood me. I found my first counter-story. It was powerful to hear another man of color not just resist white supremacy but provide a picture and embody a pathway to Black empowerment. While I am not Black, I could find parallels as a brown person in the United States. These experiences, and ultimately my own racial journey, led me to writing my first book, focused on a vision for Black- and brown-centered world.

As I got older, the learnings from his autobiography never stopped. I was able to look at Malcolm’s life as one long transformation around his identity. It served as a model for the personal racial identity journey I wanted to commit to.

Do you have a favorite “Life Lesson Quote”? Do you have a story about how that was relevant in your life or your work?

Yes: “I’m going to hold the possibility of you, but deal with the reality of you.”

One of the most important mentors in my life said this to me when I was in my mid-to-late 20s. He was a tall, dark-skinned African American man who had spent years in youth development and education. He was by far the smartest human being I have had the opportunity to work with.

At that time, I was having trouble being accountable, taking responsibility and stepping powerfully into a sense of purpose. I was struggling with what it meant to live in integrity.

If a training or a project went wrong, I was quick to make excuses or blame others. I had no attachment to honoring my word or the commitments I made to others. I was reactive, mad at the world, and felt and acted as if I were powerless to shift the mediocre direction of my life. At the same time, I was a gifted facilitator and youth professional. I had an extraordinary work ethic and the drive to make a difference in the world. In other words, I held a lot of potential.

But my mentor was at the end of his rope. He had given me some critical feedback about how I was showing up — or rather failing to show up — as a leader in our organization. I took it personally and responded with anger. I made it clear that I thought he (who was more than 20 years older than me), didn’t understand my situation and couldn’t grasp why I was showing up the way I was. I also intimated that he was part of the reason why I struggled to lead. I didn’t allow him to finish giving me feedback, telling him that I didn’t want to hear his feedback, and letting him know many of the ways in which I was showing up were his fault as well as other leaders in the organization. It’s been more than 20 years, so I don’t remember exactly what I said. But my range of behaviors included shutting down and not listening to getting mad and feeling like “this is bullshit” or this is on you more than me.

I remember seeing the mix of exhaustion, frustration and shock on his face. He sighed before saying , “You know Hanif, from now on I am going to hold the possibility of you, but deal with the reality of you.”

That moment, and the quote itself, has stayed with me. It is a filter through which I look at much of life. Whether as a way of seeing relationships, or my work in the DEI world, my mentor’s words help me maintain a more balanced outlook and approach.

For instance, when I think about anti-racism work or what it means to dismantle white supremacy, I want to hold the possibility that transformation could actually happen. This creates a sense of hope that is necessary in anti-racism work. At the same time, I want to deal with the reality that racism was constructed to be permanent. This helps me understand why change is so challenging, or may not come at all.

In a day-to-day sense, when working with employees at the Center for Equity and Inclusion, I’ve learned to strike a balance between believing in the possibility of every staff member and meeting them where they’re at (the reality of them). When I’m grounded in someone’s reality, it gives me and the employee what we need to address in order for them to step into their full potential.

How do you define “Leadership”? Can you explain what you mean or give an example?

Sometimes a story best illustrates what leadership means. My fellow co-founder of CEI, Frewine Kiros, and I have recently brought our race equity leadership to bear on real estate development and closing the economic wealth gap for people of color. This is a white-dominated field that has served white interests and profits from the founding of this country.

In 2019, Frewine and I purchased and developed the building that currently houses CEI. That process made visible for us how exclusionary the development process is. Along with the building, we also purchased the adjoining lot, where we plan to develop a new building. As part of this new building’s development, we are doing everything we can to pilot a model that profits the BIPOC community every step of the way, from design to construction to investment to eventual ownership of the building. We envision a Black- and brown-centered world. That world would require investing in, resourcing and centering BIPOC communities and businesses as the drivers and gatekeepers of our own economic empowerment. The first step for us is to lead the way by showing what this kind of economic arrangement could look like on a small scale and working with partners to get it off of the ground.

Frewine and I met with a major foundation to secure pre-development costs, a commitment for the foundation’s investment and — we hoped — a loan guarantee for the new building. The math was easy: If the foundation didn’t support us, we would have to ask some rich white guy or a white-led institution for these dollars. In other words, white people would continue to profit off of people of color. In the case of a loan guarantee, they would profit without ever spending a dollar of their own money. A foundation covering some of these costs instead would mean that they were resourcing BIPOC communities. And when they received a return on the foundation’s investment, those returns would go back into the money used to fund and support community needs. So even their returns would lead to equitable outcomes.

What we know — and saw again in the foundation meeting — is that the lack of BIPOC people driving real estate development means that these kinds of ideas never surface. Foundations have never guaranteed loans. And many haven’t invested in these types of projects in part because unconscious bias causes foundations to put their energy toward helping people of color survive versus resourcing people of color so they can thrive. Thriving seems to have a parking spot reserved for whiteness.

Something else we know got validated in that meeting, though. There are white people — and leaders and institutions — who are willing to push themselves in the name of race equity. People who are deeply troubled and uncomfortable with our current racial arrangement. In other words, there are white people who feel that race equity is a part of their purpose in life; they just haven’t felt as if they are in position or can find a pathway to live into that purpose.

This is the value of having BIPOC leadership. Leaders of color can provide a vision for race equity that is tied to solid strategy. This type of leadership inspires by mapping out purpose-aligned roles in making that vision happen. It is leadership that is willing to be accountable not to just a white-centered institution like a foundation or a bank, but, more importantly, to our communities. It’s leadership that understands that strategy, vision and accountability all need to be balanced by authentic relationships built on shared integrity and a common commitment to a just, equitable world.

In my work, I often talk about how to release and relieve stress. As a busy leader, what do you do to prepare your mind and body before a stressful or high stakes meeting, talk, or decision? Can you share a story or some examples?

I lead a weeklong DEI facilitator intensive training four or five times a year. Before each day of every session, I make it a point to sit for 5 minutes in meditation. It keeps me grounded in the present, versus where I tend to fall back to, which is anticipating all the worst possible things that could happen. I’m also clear that for a 5-minute grounding to have impact, it has to be connected to a daily practice of sitting, which I do my best to honor.

Another word for preparation is practice. I believe deeply in this when it comes to mindfulness. We don’t just “get present” five minutes prior. Even some pre-event rituals will do little to help us in the upcoming event. We have to practice being present. We have to see staying present like a muscle that we develop and continue exercising on a daily basis. Then, when we find ourselves in conditions in which mindfulness is necessary, we are prepared because we have practiced for this moment again and again and again.

Ok, thank you for all that. Now let’s move to the main focus of our interview. The United States is currently facing a very important self-reckoning about race, diversity, equality and inclusion. This is of course a huge topic. But briefly, can you share your view on how this crisis inexorably evolved to the boiling point that it’s at now?

This is a layered and complex question, so let me address one slice of it.

At the end of the day, we have white people who are holding onto a way of life culturally and institutionally that has served, resourced, included and validated them since the founding of the country. On the opposite end of things, we have BIPOC communities, individuals and a growing number of white people who are no longer willing to live within a culture and institutions that exclude, exploit, underserve and oppress.

Here’s an example: I recently consulted with a DEI leader at a nonprofit, working with her and her boss, who happens to be the first African American executive director in the organization’s history. When the executive director first arrived, he heard story after story from colleagues of color at every level of the organization expressing how they felt suffocated by the way whiteness was centered in the organization. The DEI leader and the executive director were dead set on transforming the organization’s culture, policies and practices to be aligned with an anti-racist identity. They wanted to intentionally center the needs of their BIPOC staff and stakeholders for the first time.

As they reorganized the nonprofit using a racial equity lens, there was immediate white backlash. This took the form of letters to board members, disrespectful emails, refusal to engage, claims of reverse racism, questioning of leadership’s acumen and multiple resignations. It’s not surprising, even at a nonprofit that mainly serves BIPOC communities.

For these white employees, there was no need to shift the status quo. They were comfortable in it; they were profiting off of it; it was all they knew. And just as importantly, it was all that they knew to be the right way to operate and relate to one another. Conditioned not to notice the experiences of their BIPOC colleagues, it never dawned on them that the people working alongside them were drowning in the very conditions that white people were thriving in. Our experiences simply didn’t matter as much as their comfort.

It never occurred to these white employees that there could be a better way to operate; that their comfort shouldn’t be the central driving factor in decision making; that there could be an ecosystem in which they did not hold power over people, but rather were required to hold power with people.

No longer sitting in the driver’s seat was too much for them, so they did all that was in their power to hold onto their centrality. That all of this resistance was at the expense of BIPOC people didn’t matter; these white people saw themselves as the victims. They were just fighting to survive.

There is a hard truth that this country has refused to address, and we are seeing play out in front of us. The truth is that we built this country for a racially disparate experience. BIPOC communities were never included in the founding of this country, the laws and policies that were institutionalized, or the culture that we are wrapped up in.

We had no voice and were given no standing regarding what we wanted or needed out of this country in order to thrive. We were excluded. On the other hand, white people’s interests, needs and profits were at the center of the construction of this country. As a consequence, the U.S. organized laws, institutional policies and practices, cultural norms, beliefs, narratives and standards that reinforced and perpetuated white dominance, otherwise known as white supremacy.

This is sometimes difficult for white people to accept, because they’ve grown up with narratives that sound like “anything is possible,” “for the people, by the people,” “liberty and justice for all,” or the belief that we are a true meritocracy. These beliefs have been hammered home through education, family systems and broader cultural narratives, again and again and again.

And so it is today, at this boiling point, that we have BIPOC communities and anti-racist white people saying we need to redesign the foundation that all this rests upon. And this time, people of color’s needs, wants and profits need to be at the center of that construction.

At the same time, we have a significant group of white people who are hell bent on keeping everything firmly in place. No matter what the cost.

Why this at this moment? To me, it’s a perfect storm. We have an intersection of incremental changes over time beginning to add up; a growing bloc of BIPOC people and anti-racist white people who are able to vote and effect change; a backlash to the Obama presidency; an explosion of social media that on the one hand connects disenfranchised white people around a narrative of victimization and white supremacy and on the other hand connects anti-racist communities and puts on full display the horrible acts and impacts of racism; and Donald Trump and the platform that he and other white supremacists nurtured. All of this came to fruition at the same moment in time. A truly perfect storm.

Can you tell our readers a bit about your experience working with initiatives to promote Diversity and Inclusion? Can you share a story with us?

Personally, or through the Center for Equity and Inclusion, I have been working through DEI issues for more than 20 years. Over the last seven years, CEI has provided a platform through which I can focus on advancing DEI within a broad range of organizations, such as Feeding America, the Portland Trail Blazers, Providence Healthcare Systems, and Portland Public School District.

Our work ultimately helps organizations cultivate a work culture that aligns with the value of inclusion, assist them in integrating racial equity into organizational policies and practices, and develop a work experience in which people of color can truly thrive.

Our process includes intensive work, often over several years, with organizational leaders and stakeholders to advance race equity at all levels.

About 8 years ago, I had the opportunity to consult with one of the largest private foundations in Oregon. When I stepped into the organization, there was a significant disconnect around race equity work because they had just completed an equity process that had gone badly. We spent more than a year helping them learn how to engage in race equity efforts in a productive and inclusive manner. This is challenging given how volatile the issue of race and race equity is in the United States. The foundation understood that it needed to redesign the very foundation that philanthropy was built around. This required a whole new language, new values, new perspectives driving change, innovation, imagination, and ultimately a new identity. They were willing to hold themselves accountable to a transformative process rather than to a series of technical fixes. They understood that there wasn’t necessarily an end to this journey.

Today, after many mistakes, missteps and constant learning, the foundation is seen as a leader for race equity and anti-racism. They continue to make mistakes, but they also continue to learn from them. Placing BIPOC perspectives and experience at the center of their decision-making led to new ways of seeing their work and new ways of doing it. They continue to push not just themselves, but philanthropic organizations throughout the state, to do things differently, to experience discomfort, and to stay ferociously committed to anti-racism. This transformation has allowed them to live their mission in a way that is felt by all Oregonians, while at the same time closing critical gaps for our communities of color.

This may be obvious to you, but it will be helpful to spell this out. Can you articulate to our readers a few reasons why it is so important for a business or organization to have a diverse executive team?

First of all, I want to be clear that a diverse executive team, in and of itself, will not necessarily serve an organization. This is one of the problems we run into. Organizations want to look diverse but aren’t interested in or conditioned to include or center diverse perspectives in their decision-making and strategy-building efforts.

Diversity will only serve an executive team to the degree that inclusion is a central value of that team. If we have a diverse executive team without an inclusive culture, that often leads to a frustrated diverse group of executive team members. When we have diverse and inclusive executive teams, we now have multiple perspectives shaping organizational policy, practices and strategies. This means that we have new ways of seeing an issue or solution, and therefore the capacity to problem-solve in ways we didn’t have before. New thinking consequently opens the door for innovation.

We also are able to understand, represent and ultimately serve our BIPOC stakeholders — whether that be BIPOC within our own organizations or our consumers — because we have some connection or bridge to their experience.

Finally, when executive team members feel as if they can bring their full selves to the table, and their perspectives and ideas are considered and implemented, we have more connected executive leaders. More connected executive leaders often result in more productive and impactful leadership.

Ok. Here is the main question of our discussion. You are an influential business leader. Can you please share your “5 Steps We Must Take To Truly Create An Inclusive, Representative, and Equitable Society”. Kindly share a story or example for each.

I often get a variation of this question, and it almost always comes from white people. White people seem to believe that there are five steps, or seven principles, etc., that will help us get out of the mess that they created.

White people need to know there can be a happy ending to all this, that there’s a way to fix this problem. It’s part of their internalization of white supremacy: There’s nothing that they can’t fix.

People of color, on the other hand, understand that it will take much more than five steps to create a more equitable and just society. They are clear that there may not be a solution to this problem, or that if we really want to fix this problem, five steps won’t do. A complete transformation is in order. I know you all want a roadmap out of this mess, but there isn’t one.

I can, however, give you some general “musts” to advance race equity efforts in a meaningful manner:

• You must be willing to considerably resource this work with time, money and attention.
• You must attend to the culture aspect of this work as much as you look for and demand the strategy, outcomes and milestones. If you do not spend significant time establishing culture around this work, your overall efforts will be dead in the water.
• Recognize that this work has no end point. There will be advancements, milestones met, shifts in practice and culture. AND the work will simply never end.
• Leadership must completely buy in, personally and professionally. Leaders must understand why this work is important to them personally and why it is mission-critical for the organization.
• Everyone must be willing to position themselves as learners. Ultimately, equity is an ongoing learning journey in which we continue to see things we didn’t before; continue to learn how to work, behave and relate differently; and continue to evolve and grow from our work.

We are going through a rough period now. Are you optimistic that this issue can eventually be resolved? Can you explain?

I am not optimistic when it comes to my generation, but I find some optimism when it comes to our younger generation.

As an example, I was at a Starbucks drive through with my 9-year-old daughter Amina the other day. After we left, I said to Amina that I thought the drive-through barista was nice. My exact words were, “She was really cool.”

Amina’s response to me was, “Papa, how do you know she identifies as she?”

I had to shake my head and laugh. It reminds me of how far along this generation is, what they have been exposed to, what is normed for them, and the diverse perspectives and life experiences they have access to.

They see and experience the world so differently than I could have even imagined at 9 years old. I mean, damn, even at 30, if you had told me we would have a Black president one day, I would have laughed you out of the room. For Amina, this is normal.

So, I’m hopeful that a generation that has more perspective and is so impacted environmentally, socially, even medically, will be motivated to do things differently.

Is there a person in the world, or in the US, with whom you would like to have a private breakfast or lunch, and why? He or she might just see this, especially if we tag them. :-)

Barack and Michelle Obama. This may seem like an easy way to answer this question, but I would be interested in learning something specific from them. I want to know about the relationship that they needed with each other to honor, cultivate and even establish anew, in order for them to stay healthy, connected, spiritually aligned and joyful under such oppressive conditions.

I believe that any DEI and anti-racism work has to be done in relationship with others. I also believe that our personal health, well-being and experience of joy cannot be compromised by anti-racism work. Rather, we see our well-being and experiences of joy as the embodiment of race equity work and outcomes. The only way to reach these outcomes is to be in relationship with one another. I’d love to be able to ask Barack and Michelle Obama about the type of relationship they needed to cultivate with one another in order to truly thrive as people of color.

How can our readers follow you online?

We are working so hard at bringing people along on our journey. Social media is one of the best ways for us to keep the learning going and to continue to nurture each other, hold white supremacy accountable and make room for BIPOC joy in the face of oppression. I’m most active on Instagram. You can find me there and on other social channels at:

• IG @iamhaniffazal
• Twitter @HanifFazalPDX
• LinkedIn @hanif-fazal-cei

And be on the lookout for my book!

This was very meaningful, thank you so much. We wish you only continued success on your great work!