Reflections on Traveling While Black, Woman, Muslim and a DEI Professional

By: Ashya Maijed

Last week I was on a plane flying to Denver for a girls trip. Normally, I sleep on flights. I tend to be a last minute packer, which ends up leading me to a point of exhaustion by the time I board. I am usually so tired that I fall asleep before take-off and wake up when the wheels hit the ground. But this time was different.

For some reason I was awake and energized. I was sitting in the aisle and a man was sitting at the window. I don’t usually have the pleasure of talking to people on flights because I am sleeping, but this nice man began to engage with me. He was very friendly and seemed to be a genuinely curious person, which I appreciate and welcomed. ?

When we got to the topic of what we do for work, for the first time ever, I hesitated to share. I am always assessing the safety of a situation, especially when traveling solo. In that moment, I was a ?single Black woman traveling alone and for the next several hours was going to be sitting next to this man: a tall, physically fit white man who regularly travels to Denver for business and fun.

I told him that I worked in marketing for a small consulting firm, which is true, but I intentionally left out that the firm specialized in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) work. This was atypical for me. Usually and in any other context, I would proudly share that I work in marketing for a DEI firm called Be Equitable, and that we work with organizations to change the world. That usually leads to more conversation about how we do that, and what we believe in.

For the first time ever, I was concerned if saying DEI would make me a target for unjust treatment, judgement, or incite panic within him or the people around him. I just didn’t have it in me to share.

I see stories all the time about Black people being treated unjustly on planes, in their homes and even competing at the Olympics. Part of the reason why I work in the DEI industry is so I can feel like I am doing my part to impact change, and feeling afraid to share this aspect of who I am during that plane encounter has been bothering me. No, I am not obligated to bring "my work" everywhere I go...and, this work is so deeply personal, how can I not?

Given the recent anti-DEI sentiments in the media and legislation across the country, sometimes I feel that like being a DEI professional is in some ways another marginalized identity for me. Black, Muslim, Woman… DEI professional. An identity that, in our current context, creates some fear and anxiety about how others will experience me. This is wild to me.

The work we do should be celebrated, and honestly rewarded. It is hard, messy and imperfect but the alternative, a world without DEI, is not one I am prepared to live in.

Safety first of course, but the next time I have the opportunity, I will choose to be fully authentic, even if it is on a late night flight to Denver sitting next to a stranger. In the words of rap philosopher, Tupac Shakur “I didn’t choose the thug life, the thug life chose me.” What I mean is being a DEI professional is the path that I feel was chosen for me, and I am okay with that, in fact I'm honored.

Questions for Reflection:

Have there been instances when you chose to conceal certain parts of your identity?

• If so, what were the circumstances? Would you make the same decision again? Why or why not?
• If not, what conditions and/or privileges allow you to feel safe enough to be fully authentic, and how can you create those conditions for others who may hold different identities?

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