Many kids grow up wanting to be astronauts. I was no exception, but
I took it a step further. I wanted to work for NASA more than anything else. I took flying lessons as a teenager and entered university as an aeronautical engineering major.
That dream never waned for me. I did discover that my skills and natural abilities leaned more toward speaking and writing than engineering, but I never let go of the hope that I could work for NASA one day.
Several years ago, I got a call that I’ll never forget. A cross-cultural consulting company called RW3, who knew of my love of space, told me that NASA’s Kennedy Space Center (KSC) was looking for some training and coaching around cultural differences. Would I be interested? Um, YEAH!
My dad and I had visited KSC every year for many years. I knew every inch of that place. I had read every book known to humankind on the space program. I was born for this job.
While I can’t share all the details of that project, I can say this: together, the NASA staff, RW3, and I explored tools for bridging cultural differences. We had open, honest conversations about mindsets, experiences, and backgrounds. The results were remarkable— participants felt heard and seen. The program became the highest-rated of its kind at KSC.
I could not do that work today. Recent executive orders mandating the elimination of DEI programs at the federal level have made that impossible. And I don’t understand why.
Navigating differences is challenging, but it’s also essential—and inspiring. Whether in personal or professional contexts, we all need partners to help us bridge divides. At NASA, our sessions focused on what mattered most to the participants: achieving mission objectives through collaboration and inclusion.
How was that harmful?
DEI is not perfect. Some DEI programs have been proven ineffective, and I do believe that as practitioners we are responsible for continuous awareness and improvement. But DEI isn’t something you can reduce to an acronym and ban—it’s multifaceted and, in some cases, lifesaving (consider equity in patient care).
Every aspect of my work involves inclusion. I even tailor my public speaking coaching to people’s different experiences, stories, and identities. Again, how is that harmful?
My colleague Melissa Hahn posted an article a few days ago with this title: “Cultural work is not a crime.” I couldn’t have said it better. I have pages of testimonials, including from white men, affirming that my work has made them feel valued and visible, not shamed.
Like many of my colleagues, I will keep doing the work, whether that is coaching a global leader or getting a speaker ready for a big meeting. Because for me, DEI is not a “thing” – it is just in the flow of every day work and life.
Let’s not lose sight of what DEI stands for: diversity, equity, and inclusion. It’s not about shame—it’s about care and responsibility.
My hope is that companies will remain committed to elevating all voices and benefiting from the diverse talents of their teams. As for me, I will continue to live my purpose: to lift people up and bring them together.
I invite you to walk beside me.
