DEI Misdiagnosed
When I was a child, my mother warned me about bi-cultural marriage. “It’s not wrong,” she said, “it’s just that it’s really difficult.” Fast forward 20 years, and I was walking down the aisle to meet my husband, who was not only from a different culture but truly from a different world.
I grew up in a small town in Oregon and didn’t move until my 30s. I attended a private school from 3rd to 12th grade with a graduating class of 75. He was born in Nicaragua in the middle of a civil war, grew up between Sacramento and Miami, and attended four different elementary schools, three different middle schools, and four different high schools. My family was passive-aggressive, where arguments were tiptoed around carefully. You never told someone directly you were upset—you told somebody else who was supposed to tell them. His family was blunt and direct. He warned me when we started dating, “You are going to hear me talk to my mom on the phone. Don’t worry; the loud volume doesn’t mean we are upset with each other. We are just talking.”
I’ve spent the past 15 years of my career involved in diversity, equity, and inclusion work. As we’ve seen these words cause much controversy across our nation over not just the past months, but really the past decade, I’ve been reflecting on what went wrong. As a Christian, I have a deeply held conviction that justice is in the heart of God. It says in Psalm 89:14 that “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne,” which means justice is in the heart of God. Over 200 scriptures in the Bible speak about caring for the poor, the widow, the alien, and the stranger. So why has this conversation felt so difficult, especially in Christian circles? Why have friends stopped me around the dinner table to hear my reason for being involved in this work, with some even saying that DEI is anti-Christian?
I believe it is time to rewrite the conversation.
My husband is a physician. He’s trained to not just look at what patients present to him but to go underneath the surface and diagnose the root cause. When it comes to health, patients have different approaches. Some will know there is a problem, but they don’t want to face it. They never make the appointment, hope the symptoms will go away, and if and when they finally seek help, they’ve waited so long that the road to recovery is much more difficult. Others are prone to overly self-diagnose. They will come to see the doctor for every little scratch in their throat, thinking that something is terribly wrong and requires medical intervention. In either case, fear is the motivating factor. Fear of the unknown, fear of what if, fear of the outcome, and a belief in the worst-case scenario. Fear can hold us back from seeking the help we need or cause us to live in a constant state of believing the worst is happening.
However, there is a greater motivation for most patients scheduling appointments—pain. They’ve lived with symptoms that they can no longer ignore. Their daily activities are limited, their quality of life is deteriorating, and they are without hope that things can change. Pain is the body’s way of telling us that something needs to heal.
What does all of this have to do with DEI? We are a nation that has experienced great pain when it comes to issues of race. Some of us want to ignore it and look away. Some of us want to over-diagnose and make every issue about race. And still others are in so much pain, they don’t know what to do or how to heal—they just know that they need something different. The issue exists on two levels—false diagnosis and ineffective treatment.
When it comes to false diagnoses, we need to recognize that the words diversity, equity, and inclusion have lost their meaning in our nation. They’ve come to encompass such a broad scope of things that most people don’t know what you believe and what you are standing up for when you use these terms. They allow people to write their own definitions of what they think you mean instead of providing any clarity in a conversation.
Furthermore, we’ve failed to identify the true root cause of the issues we face as a nation, and in doing so, we’ve failed to provide an effective treatment plan. I’ve worked with several colleagues who expressed their frustrations after the policy changes didn’t yield significant results, the DEI workshop bore little fruit, and people seem stuck in the same mindsets, regardless of their efforts. That’s because information does not bring transformation. We’ve tried to take a matter of the heart and make it a matter of facts.
Like the patient who never schedules the appointment, some of us are so afraid of feeling guilty or ashamed that we might be labeled as racist that we don’t even want to enter the conversation. Others of us are so convinced that people won’t change or have been hurt by past conversations, so we disengage. And like the patient who over-diagnoses, some of us are quick to call everything racist or allow others to paint a version of ourselves, saying that we should be ashamed and stand condemned.
But my friend, we are missing the diagnosis. Over and over and over again we have missed it. And when we miss the diagnosis, we can’t treat the root cause of the issue.
“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world, and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” (Eph 6:12)
Racism is a spirit. We’ve been trying to drive out a spirit with DEI workshops, with policy analysis, op-eds, and documentaries. At the end of the day, you may convince people that there is a problem—their attention is drawn to the pain—but without knowing how to deal with the spirit, you’ll never deal with the root.
People often ask my husband and me what the secret to marriage is. When I was getting married, many women told me if I wanted a long-lasting relationship, I needed to communicate, communicate, communicate. And while I’ve found communication is important, communication won’t keep you together. You can communicate your needs, but still be hurt, angry, and disillusioned. Our secret for staying married, especially in our bi-cultural marriage that my mother warned would be so difficult, is this: Forgive, forgive, forgive.
If we want to drive out the spirit of racism, we must first start with forgiveness. Forgive others if they have hurt you. Forgive yourself if you’ve done wrong. Until we forgive, we cannot release the pain from our hearts. Until we forgive, we cannot transform.
As we’ve just passed the Easter season, I am reminded of our greatest hope for forgiveness. God who sent His Son into the world not to condemn the world but that through Him the world might be saved. And as Jesus, who knew no sin, stretched out his arms on a cross and took my place for every hurt, every pain, every injustice I’ve committed, every injustice I’ve experienced, he said these words, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” Our hope to heal, our hope to forgive is only found in Him.
If you find yourself in need of forgiveness or needing to forgive today, pray this simple prayer with me.
Heavenly Father, today I ask you to forgive me for not releasing the pain in my heart to you. I release others from the debt they owe to me and the way they’ve unjustly treated me because of my race. I confess to you any area in my life where I have treated others unjustly based on their race and ask you to forgive me. I receive the forgiveness that only comes from you. Lord, give me the grace to forgive myself and to forgive others. I declare the spirit of racism no longer has power over me, in the name of Jesus, Amen.
And if you don’t know Jesus, if you don’t know the one by whom we receive and give forgiveness, pray this prayer with me.
Heavenly Father, I confess that I am a sinner, and my sin separates me from you. I ask you to forgive me of my sin. I believe that Jesus is the Son of God and that he died on the cross for my sins and rose again. Today, I break all covenants with the flesh, the devil, and the world, and I make a new covenant with the blood of Jesus. Write my name in the Book of Life. Were I to die today, I know when I wake up, I would be with you.
May the Lord bless you, keep you, make His face shine upon you, and give you peace.
