Why DEI Is a Global Lifeline, Not a Liberal Luxury

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I wouldn’t be where I am without a Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) program—though we didn’t call it that back then. I was a high-achieving kid growing up in a working-class Italian and Irish American neighborhood where I was constantly reminded that I didn’t belong. I often felt ugly, stupid, and other. That otherness made me stand out—and eventually, for some time,  made me shrink.

One turning point came in middle school. I had raised my hand again and again in class, eager to answer questions—until a classmate snapped: “Why don’t you shut up, you dumb, dirty n**r?” I froze. I looked to the teacher, waiting for him to act. But he just smirked, put his hands in his pockets, and nodded—as if in agreement. That moment scarred me. More than the slur, it was the silence of authority that taught me how little I was seen—or worse, how clearly I was being judged.

I pushed myself hard after that. University became both an expectation from my mother and my only escape from a place that I believed never saw me as enough. I applied to top-tier schools out of longing, but not out of true belief. My guidance counselor confirmed what I already feared when he said: “A girl like you doesn’t go to the Ivy League.”

But someone else saw me. A Columbia admissions counselor reached out—part of what would now be called a DEI initiative. That one conversation changed everything. Without it, my life would have followed a very different path.

From Civil Rights to DEI: What We’re Really Talking About

DEI, from my own research, does not have one harmonized definition across all agencies, organizations and companies that had or continue to have it in place.  Generally, diversity is defined as embracing the diverse social identities people may have which can include race, age, ethnicity, religion, gender, sexual orientation or physical ability.  Equity is embracing the ideas and assets, minus “debts”, that every person possesses and then providing equal opportunities.  Inclusion is acknowledging and respecting everyone’s voice and creating an environment in which individuals of all backgrounds feel encouraged to express their ideas and perspectives.  

DEI can be traced back to the programs and policies stemming from the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Acts.  Another policy that came out of the 1964 act was Affirmative Action. And perhaps to many, they see DEI as an extension of Affirmative Action.  Although they have the same goal, they are distinct concepts with different approaches and goals.  Affirmative Action was a legal policy focused on rectifying historical injustices through targeted initiatives for underrepresented racial, ethnic and gender groups. In some cases, affirmative action policies required federal contractors and university admissions to establish goals and timetables for increasing the representation of underrepresented groups in the workforce and within educational institutions. 

Affirmative action has garnered a bad reputation for “reverse discrimination”  by prioritizing certain groups by race rather than merit.  And this is the argument that is being put forth for DEI, thus trudging up tensions that existed while Affirmative Action was in place.  In 2023, the Supreme Court banned affirmative action policies in college admissions, after a lawsuit was brought on behalf of Abigail Fisher a woman who claimed that she was denied admission to the University of Texas because she was white.

"Race is the child of racism"-Ta-Nehisi Coates 

Women Won with DEI—Even When They Didn't Know It

While not without flaws, Affirmative Action significantly expanded access to education and employment for many underrepresented persons, especially people of color. But not only people of color have benefited from Affirmative Action. The biggest winners of these policies have been white women.  Yet they are often the biggest opponents to it.  Specifically, a study from 1995 showed that 6 million women, mostly white, obtained employment that they would not have had without affirmative action programming.  Another report by McKinsey and Company, “Women in the Workplace,” noted that although white women hold 30% of senior leadership roles, African American women and Latinas hold just 4% and 3%, respectively.  We have also seen that affirmative action, and now DEI has led to better performance by companies.

Namely “ that companies in the top quartile for gender diversity on executive teams were 25 percent more likely to have above-average profitability than companies in the fourth quartile—up from 21 percent in 2017 and 15 percent in 2014.” (“Diversity Wins:  How Inclusion Matters," McKinsey & Company, 2020)   In addition,  “ethnically diverse executive teams are 36% more likely to outperform their peers on profitability.”(DEI In 2025: Should Companies Double Down Or Pivot To New Priorities?, Forbes, January 27, 2025)   Furthermore, the Boston Consulting Group’s research exemplifies “that organizations with diverse leadership see 19% higher innovation revenues.”  Lastly, it's also worth noting that DEI initiatives have expanded awareness and accommodations for other groups too—including veterans, men with disabilities, and working-class men who’ve faced systemic exclusion for different reasons.

With or without DEI, white men continue to benefit most—from financial wealth to access to power and information. They remain the overwhelming majority of CEOs and private sector leaders.   According to the Department of Labor Statistics, those who have benefited next from DEI policies include Latinos, Native Americans, Asians, LGBTQI individuals, and people with disabilities—with African Americans still at the back of the line. And I’d wager that most of those farther up the queue are white-presenting.

Unlike gender data, racial equity indicators in DEI are harder to track—because we haven’t fully committed to measuring them. But what can’t be measured is still deeply felt: whether it’s being the only woman of color in a leadership meeting, or having my Americanness questioned in my own country, DEI gave language and legitimacy to those exclusions.

Understanding privilege isn’t abstract for me—I’ve lived with and without it, and the contrast revealed just how deeply systemic advantage runs. Today, as historically marginalized groups finally have space to speak openly about racism and exclusion, some see these conversations as suddenly appearing “out of nowhere.” But our communities have been raising these issues for generations. DEI was never about blaming white people today for the actions of the past, despite what some of my conservative fellow Floridians have told me. Others simply don’t see the legacy of white privilege or believe they benefit from it—but they do.

What Living Abroad Taught Me About Privilege and Power

Living in various countries on the African continent, I experienced what it meant to be perceived as white. My fair complexion automatically labeled me Mzungu—a white foreigner—in the communities where I lived and worked, particularly as the only “white” person in a rural Mozambican village. Children sometimes ran from me, startled by my presence. As I became the resident white figure in what became my second home country, I  represented assumptions of privilege—even though those assumptions didn’t apply back in the U.S.

But in these African countries, I did benefit from those privileges. The same structural advantages of whiteness that I challenged in the U.S. were now extended to me—and I used that access strategically. I leaned into the influence it gave me to advocate for fairness, open doors, and push for more inclusive practices. To me, that’s what DEI is about—recognizing where power lies and using it to challenge unjust systems, not reinforce them.

That dual perspective shaped my leadership. I made it a point to listen to all staff voices, even those often dismissed as unqualified or uninformed. I pushed for better contracts for national staff and made space for grievances—many of which reflected hierarchies shaped not just by race, but also by class and status. I also challenged colleagues—Black and otherwise—when claims of racism may have masked other power dynamics, encouraging everyone to reflect on how their own privilege could harm others, regardless of where they sat on the social ladder.

This is precisely why DEI matters: to create space for stories that challenge assumptions, and for policies that recognize complexity. It’s not about instant solutions but long-term transformation. True change takes decades. But without honest dialogue and mutual reflection, we remain trapped in cycles of unexamined bias—as history has shown us through slavery, segregation, and apartheid.

While living in Mozambique I befriended a Mozambican woman married to a white South African that came of age during apartheid.   He shared with me how white children were brainwashed to fear black people and how children were prepared to fight the “invasion” of black people to their neighborhoods with school drills and weapon training.  It was not until apartheid ended and he was tasked with putting a multi-racial staff at his job under the new government’s mandate of integrating all groups in all spaces, that he came to understand what the white apartheid government did to him and many other white children.  It was because of apartheid ending and the legal mandate that required that all groups be represented in integrated schools and the workplace—he was able to understand how much all South Africans had an asset that could contribute to the benefit of staff and the company. There is still inequality, social clustering, integration challenges and the continued harmful impact of apartheid policies.  But there is a concerted effort to address it.

Why Rolling Back DEI Is a Political Strategy—Not a Policy Fix

DEI programming spearheaded by the United States has led to more recruitment and integration of women over the past 30-50 years in international aid sectors and has allowed gender equality and equity  to be top of mind in designing programs that include women’s needs as well as voices.  But  during my own work in the last 10 years, I have noticed a backlash to the discussion of women’s and girls rights, notably just at the point we were seeing the fruits of our labor on improving girl education and women’s inclusion in formal employment and in leadership roles.  

I fear that the rollback of U.S. foreign aid and dismantling of DEI policies will reverse hard-won progress on gender equality and gender-based violence programs—undermining efforts to recruit and retain women in leadership roles.

We’re already seeing the impact at home. The federal government is sidelining women from key military roles after years of advocacy and proof of their capability. This regression threatens to close doors for our daughters that others fought to open. The repeal of Executive Order 13985—which required agencies to address racial equity—and state-level DEI bans, like Florida’s SB 266, further limit progress. Our sons may never hear diverse stories in classrooms where those voices have been deliberately erased.

These aren’t just policy decisions—they’re political strategies. DEI has become a wedge issue, especially since 2020, when U.S. political polarization reached new heights. As a nation, we still struggle to reckon with race—its social construction, and its lasting impact. DEI programs offer a framework to confront that legacy—not to shame, but to understand. Ignoring this past only deepens the wounds, sustaining cycles of discrimination, inequality, and social division.

This regression also aligns with the harsh reality of our immigration system. Deportations disproportionately target Latin American countries—Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador—along with Brazil, Colombia, and Venezuela.  Simultaneously dismantling DEI and targeting Black and Brown immigrants sends a clear message: that certain communities are disposable. It’s an erasure of identity and a return to an America where fear defined belonging.

These consequences aren’t abstract—they’re already shaping what’s possible for the next generation. Many young people today access opportunities because their parents fought for, or benefited from, Affirmative Action and DEI initiatives. Yet a global Ipsos survey found that half of respondents believe men are being asked to do too much to support gender equality—and nearly as many feel efforts to promote women now disadvantage men.   

But real equity takes time. Access alone doesn’t ensure progress. Despite decades of effort, as of July 2024, only 52 of Fortune 500 CEOs—just 10.4%—are women, though women make up over half the U.S. population. That gap persists not because of lack of merit, but because opportunities—especially those provided through DEI—are still unequally distributed. Even in the UK study, respondents said gender wasn’t the issue—experience was. But how do women and marginalized groups gain that experience if they’re denied the very pathways designed to create it?

Equity means giving people a chance to catch up. So young professionals and activists must ask themselves: when you look at who holds power, who gets paid, and who is represented—have historically underrepresented groups truly caught up?

The Fight Isn’t Over—Here’s How We Keep Going

If DEI disappears from government balance sheets, it must rise in our communities. Let us build what they tear down. Fund what they defund. See who they erase. This isn’t the end of equity—it’s the call to defend it.   DEI is not charity—it is the infrastructure to a just society.  Below are 5 possible steps for us to maintain DEI objectives within communities.

1. Fund what they defund: we must organize community-led initiatives that establish and support local organizations that focus on education, mentorship, and advocacy to fill the void left by defunded DEI programs.

2. Use data to disrupt—we can diversify private sectors through economic campaigns that not only show our resistance by not shopping at certain retailers like Target, but that we will ONLY support BIPOC,  persons with disabilities, veteran and women owned businesses.   

3. Engage intentionally through initiatives that are established by us and for us (whoever that us you choose to label yourself with)  like the 15 Percent Pledge, which encourages retailers to dedicate a portion of their shelf space to Black-owned businesses.

4. Leverage technology to build direct-to-consumer channels such as robust online platforms that can reach customers directly, reducing reliance on traditional retail channels.​

5. Build coalitions because we know that alliances established by underrepresented groups is what has gotten us through the darkest times in the U.S. Thus we must continue to do so with like minded persons so that we can collaborate to create local networks that support economic empowerment and shared resources within neighborhoods and states.

When the U.S. backpedals on equity, the ripple effects are global. From international aid policies to private sector hiring norms abroad, U.S. leadership—or lack thereof—shapes how DEI is implemented everywhere.  If you care about fairness, opportunity, and the dignity of every person, now is not the time to stay silent. DEI programs may look different across sectors, but the goal is the same: to make systems fairer, more inclusive, and more effective. Call your representatives, support women, PwD and BIPOC led organizations, and challenge policies that erase our shared progress.

"There is no such thing as race. None." -Toni Morrison