https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vJKDg11Cs4A&t=3s
When my marriage was unraveling, I kept asking myself, “How did I get here?”
Over the past few weeks, I’ve found myself asking the same question again, but on a much larger scale, “How are we still here?” Six years later. Sixty years later. Still protesting for basic human rights. Still repeating conversations we thought had already been settled.
In 2020, many organizations wrestled with whether “political” conversations belonged at work. Some encouraged them. Others shut them down entirely. In almost every case, people left those decisions feeling frustrated or more divided than before.
I once worked with a global team where two colleagues, one Israeli and one Palestinian, did not want to be in the same room. Their roles required collaboration, even though their lived realities were shaped by deep and ongoing conflict. There was no easy resolution. There was only the question of how to keep working without denying their realities.
On Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday, I think about how often our workplaces bring together people whose paths would never cross otherwise. Different values. Different histories. Different definitions of justice and belonging. And yet, we agree to share responsibility for the work of our companies and organizations.
We don’t have to like each other to work together. We don’t have to resolve our deepest disagreements. But we do have to decide how we will work together, respectful of each other in spite of differences.
The most trustworthy leaders are not the ones who force harmony or avoid discomfort. They’re the ones who are clear about seeing the humanity in everyone while doing the work. They’re honest about what work and work relationships can and cannot do in moments like this.
Sustaining connection under strain requires more than good intentions.
