DEI: the Heart and Soul of America from an Immigrant Woman's Perspective

When people talk about DEI, they often turn to statistics, trends, and political debates — but for me, it began as something far more personal. I didn’t begin my American journey with belonging. I began it with silence, loneliness, and a depression I didn’t have words for at fourteen. I came with colored olive skin and an accent that marked me as “other” the moment I opened my mouth.

I watched people connect effortlessly while I stood at the edges — unseen, unheard, and aching for a place in a world that was unkind to someone who didn’t quite fit. Those early years taught me how deeply not belonging can cut into the human heart. And it was in the small, unexpected moments — a classmate who smiled, a teacher who believed in me, a coworker who listened — that I learned something even more powerful: belonging is built in tiny, human gestures. And those gestures became my first understanding of what America could be at its best.

DEI Cannot Be Legislated

DEI is not a corporate program. It is the beating heart of the American story — the promise that every voice matters, every person belongs, and every life holds equal worth. And you can’t legislate it; you can require training. You can write rules. You can mandate compliance. But you cannot legislate the moment someone feels seen. You cannot legislate dignity. You cannot legislate the warmth in someone’s voice when they say your name with respect. Neither is it a political ideology. You can debate it, use it as rhetoric to make yourself popular, but you cannot take away humanity or destroy the moments when small signals of dignity, warmth, and recognition allow people to feel seen.

When we honor these moments, we are honoring the very soul of America, regardless of politics or legislation!

DEI Evolving to Include Belonging

DEI didn’t evolve into DEIB by accident — it evolved because people finally began noticing the ache underneath the policies. Organizations could check every box — diverse hiring, equitable pay structures, inclusive trainings — and still walk into a room where someone felt invisible. Diversity opened the door. Equity leveled the path. Inclusion invited people in. But belonging? Belonging is the moment someone exhales because they finally feel safe. It is the spark — the emotional confirmation that all the other efforts actually matter.

Without belonging, DEI is a beautifully wrapped gift with nothing inside. That’s why the “B” burst onto the scene: because leaders began to realize that humans don’t thrive on access alone. We thrive on connection. We thrive on being valued, respected, and recognized. Adding the “B” was not a trend — it was a truth. A truth that echoes America’s deepest promise: that every person deserves not just a place, but a home.

Micro-Belonging: Where the Soul of DEIB Truly Lives

Belonging doesn’t happen in mission statements or glossy DEIB decks. It happens in the tiny, human moments that no policy will ever catch. The way someone looks up when you speak. The pause that shows they’re actually listening. The meeting where your idea isn’t brushed aside. The unexpected kindness that reminds you you’re not invisible in a crowded room.

These are the micro-moments — the quiet, everyday signals that whisper “you matter,” “you belong,” “you are seen.” I call them Micro-Belonging, the quantum particles of DEIB. Small enough to miss, powerful enough to transform a life. They are the reason DEIB survives even when budgets are cut, when politics rage, when institutions wobble. Because Micro-Belonging doesn’t depend on permission from a legislature or approval from a board, it depends on people — one gesture, one acknowledgment, one moment of humanity at a time.

And that is why DEIB is, and has always been, the heart and soul of America: not the big declarations, but the small acts of recognition that make this country feel like home.