Adversity, Reversity, and the Next Phase of Inclusion

Adversity shakes the foundation of our lives. It arrives like a sudden storm—devastating floods sweeping through homes, relentless fires reducing memories to ashes, hurricanes uprooting entire communities. It strikes in ways both natural and human-made, from the terrifying loss of life in an airplane crash to the silent struggles of those forced to rebuild after tragedy. And in these moments of survival, when loss is personal, immediate, and all-consuming, the instinct for self-preservation often overtakes the broader calls for justice and inclusion.

Years ago, I wrote about the concept of Reversity, recognizing that the conversation around diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) cannot be complete without acknowledging the profound impact of adversity. Adversity does not discriminate—it tears through cities and towns, upending lives regardless of race, gender, or background. Yet, the response to adversity is often shaped by systemic inequities. Some communities receive aid and support, while others—often those already marginalized—are left to navigate their suffering alone. And even more troubling, some use moments of collective hardship as a means to undermine DEI, blaming equity initiatives for their struggles rather than the broader failures of policy, preparedness, and compassion.

We see this pattern repeating today. As fires rage through Los Angeles, as hurricanes flood the South, as plane crashes claim innocent lives, the survival instinct takes over. People who have lost homes, jobs, and loved ones shift their focus inward—to what they need, to what they have lost. This is human nature. But as we move into the next phase of DEI, we must incorporate this reality into our work. We cannot advocate for inclusion without acknowledging the emotional and psychological impact of loss, fear, and instability. True equity is not just about representation in boardrooms—it’s about ensuring that when disaster strikes, care and support are not dictated by privilege.

Yet, there are those who seek to weaponize this suffering. They twist narratives, claiming that DEI is to blame for their hardships—that the push for equity has somehow led to their displacement, their struggle, their pain. They attempt to pit people against one another, as though fairness and justice are luxuries that only some can afford. But justice is not a zero-sum game, and neither is survival.

The next chapter of DEI must be expansive. It must account for the intersection of adversity and inclusion, recognizing that people facing loss—whether from a flood, a wildfire, or a senseless act of violence—need support, not division. It must acknowledge that communities in crisis do not need scapegoats; they need solidarity. And it must reinforce a fundamental truth: that we build a better, more just society not by turning inward in fear, but by reaching outward in care.

Adversity will continue to test us. The question is not whether we will face hardship, but how we will respond to it. Will we allow suffering to divide us, or will we use it to deepen our empathy, to strengthen our commitment to equity, and to create a world that is not just diverse, but truly just, truly fair, and truly compassionate?

The answer to that question will define the future of inclusion. And it will define us.