“Beyond the Banner – What inclusion really asks of us?”
This talk was presented at 9am Sat November 1st, 2025 on Kaurna land at the Better Together 2025 conference held at the Adelaide Convention Centre.
Excerpts of the slides are included throughout this transcript.
[Please stay connected to preorder to stay updated on my book Inclusion - It's not a Tick Box coming out next year. I will list some of the key ingredients to Inclusive practice because even the most well meaning efforts will remain broad and ineffective unless you know what to improve and work on]
A VOICE CLIP IS AVAILABLE : please message or email misia.julia@gmail.com to request because I still haven't worked out how to add it to this blog. :(
Hello & Welcome.
We are here because we all know the word. INCLUSION
You’ve likely been involved in some form of inclusive practice over the years. Within society, community, family, government, or workplace settings.
Whether you are someone who has been actively working on inclusion or are waiting for a change, and waiting for the chance to step in more actively. We all know that it isn’t always satisfying and it can just be frustrating, even annoying, to see yet another workplace sign go up with “inclusive” in the name and “inclusivity” in the promotional material, while behind the scenes, behaviour, attitude or systems show the opposite to be true.
You’ve walked in the parade.
You’ve added pronouns to your email signature. Helped others understand and do the same.
You’ve shared the event posters, maybe even funded the Company Supports Diversity T-shirts.
But what comes after the gesture? Rainbow cupcakes, anyone? Stickers on your phone or computer?
These things can be and are powerful symbols. I'm glad they are there and can be seen. But symbols aren’t culture. They can agitate and disturb a culture. But they’re not practice. They’re not policy. And they’re certainly not a guarantee of safety. • Encourage conversations that drive growth, not compliance • Foster a mindset where inclusion becomes second nature  To do this, we first need to say something. We need to challenge the idea that inclusion is simply awareness or acceptance. People are aware — so what? Sometimes we confuse the visual noise of support with actual engagement. Sometimes we rely on colour and enthusiasm to hide and hope no one questions reality too much. We confuse aesthetics with inclusion. We allow aesthetics to confuse and distract from inclusive practice. We get excited by enthusiasm, $ signs in the budget and banners. As though the look of progress is the progress. Many people are convinced they are doing the work, just because they look like they are. But we can only do what we know, until we know better AND put the effort in to change the habits which were built and based on the past. It is understandable if you feel you have swung the other way, if you feel tired, despairing and only vaguely remember feeling hopeful about change. If you're here, you probably care about collective responsibility, not just inspiration. You're looking for ways to move from intention into action or build on what you already do. Whether that's navigating internal tensions, expanding awareness, or holding space for others. Today, I will look beyond surface-level inclusion, where good intentions often falter. And I will invite you to join me as we explore habits, responses, and pieces of language that sound inclusive but in reality, exclude and let people know that they do not belong or will not be seen. The daily micro-aggressions that still pass unnoticed. So, let’s take a look at what people say inclusion is and move it toward what it feels like to belong, or not belong, in real life. Despite what is sometimes argued, the antidote to exclusion isn’t making everything available to everyone. It isn’t letting any person into any setting, that would be irresponsible. Just as a fairground ride sets height or weight limits or a driving service still needs to limit the number of passengers to the capacity of the vehicle.  Inclusion is about ease of accessibility. Inclusion is about clarity and transparency, being open about what is and isn’t available. Inclusion is about providing genuine options and making changes so that people know they are truly welcome to enter, apply, or engage. That they can belong without obligation. And if they can’t, for that to be clear  Let us take a moment and step to the side. Let us look at an example not directly related to Inclusive practice. Who here has ever said to someone, “Text me when you get home safely”? or "Let me know when you get there, ok?" Most of us have, right? For the person saying it, it adds a tick-box of care - they’ve expressed concern, wrapped the interaction neatly. But for the other person, it becomes a task - an extra thing to remember, usually at the end of a long day. What happens if they don’t? if they fall asleep? More often than not, the moment you say goodbye, you’ve stopped actually looking after their safety. That request : “Let me know you got home safely”, it isn’t about them. That’s not bad, it’s human. It is a show of care. But it’s performative. Performative care that relieves the asker, not necessarily care that supports the receiver. And this is exactly what we do in inclusion. We write a policy. We add a paragraph to the website: “We value diversity.”  The organisational equivalent of "text me when you get home". The display of awareness which says “Look, I am good”; None of these are a guarantee of safety. This becomes obvious only upon engagement and interaction with others When during an interview, one panellist says “I’m fine with all pronouns,” but you know if you said “Pass her my CV,” it would lead to a look. While introducing people at the BBQ, bringing someone over specifically to introduce you to “Our neighbours, Jane and Lena, you’ll have a lot in common,” or the workplace tour: “That’s Mark; his husband comes in for lunch sometimes.” (Why are you telling me?!) Its supposed to sound good. It is supposed to say "I'm good" "I'm inclusive" At it's core, it says "I mean well" or By saying this, it makes sure you know that I mean well. Is that really what we should be putting so much effort in? In the present day, this is the reality across homes, workplaces and community. And there is a catch: Here’s the invitation: What if inclusion wasn’t a task we hand to the other person? True inclusion doesn’t just happen when it’s convenient. In a way, inclusive practice is about knowing how to invite discomfort. Rather than making the announcement “This is a safe space”; saying “I hope this is and will be a safe space for you. You are welcome to be here and you are welcome to feedback in these way.” inviting feedback not to cherry pick the ones you like, but to accept that any day can reveal a gap, an unknown and call for learning before action Inclusion isn’t just about who gets let in. There is alot of noise made about who has been let in, allowed in or specifically targeted. 'Diversity hires' anyone? We don’t get to pat ourselves on the back simply because we “let in” a few different people, or people who seem more like ourselves. It’s also about how we behave once we’re inside, what happens on repeat when everyone is together. Sometimes we assume that because a space is queer-affirming or LGBTIQA+-led, it’s automatically safe, whether that’s a workplace, a home, a community group, or even a conference like this one. But our sense of safety can shift quickly. The issue isn’t ignorance or mistakes; it’s when arrogance or privilege jumps in to defend the mistake instead of choosing to listen, choose accountability and repair Even within our own communities, we can replicate harm, not usually out of malice, but through habit, socialisation, or unchecked privilege. And often, that same privilege gets in the way of moving toward repair. When someone’s needs, identities, or communication styles don’t fit what we know, when our own comfort is disrupted, psychological safety is disrupted and a version of exclusion can creep in. I will refer to four everyday examples of how non-inclusive behaviours can play out on repeat.  1. Banners, gestures and tokens are the things get attention. As referenced at the start of this talk. If it looks good or sounds right but doesn't build belonging or create ways to give feedback, it isn't inclusion. It's performance. We see this across gender initiatives, community engagement, LGBTIQA+ visibility, disability inclusion, anything relying on visual cues to say, “Look how good we are.” Example: A workplace annually launches Pride Month with a rainbow cake, some posters, a leftover IDAHOBIT stress ball, and the same three “out and proud” employees fronting every event. BUt it would have been more helpful to invite input across the year and invite meaningful conversations about what belonging means at work. It could have meant ensuring that all workplace forms were made gender-neutral or for time to be set aside to check that policy or discussed action was reviewed in line with feedback. If no one’s world gets a little easier… it wasn’t inclusion. This is checkbox inclusion: It justifies some D&I budget spending, probably meets someone’s target, but it doesn’t shift power, change culture, or build belonging.2. What about the comments you might hear at a family xmas lunch, in the staff room or on the bus. Said casually, to lighten the moment or avoid discomfort. Passing comments like: But what it really saying is: “I still default to how people look to decide their gender,” “I don’t want to change.” I had someone say to me a few weeks ago “You have to understand, I'm older, it’s hard to make all these changes” while they were holding the most recent iphone. I did understand what they were saying. I could hear “You can’t make me” and that “It was too much effort” Inclusion asks us to do the learning — not to make others smaller or disappear. When these comments are made, this isn’t inclusive. It’s avoidance disguised as reasonableness, disguised as humour. Make no mistake. It is a form of push back. Making sure that the person asking to be seen has discomfort pushed back onto them. The ripple effect! anyone listening will now know it won’t be safe to speak up. 3. Us vs Them. When there is an us vs them there is delineation, and in some spaces it is practical and necessary to establish. It isn't about removing or not using us vs them anymore, it is about becoming clearer and more conscious when these types of statements are in play. Paying attention to Brush off phrases that position people near if they are ok, and far if they aren't. “Us gays stick together.” Sometimes said for camaraderie. These are all easy lines and normal, but it still draws a line. The joke or comment assumes everyone is on the same page. Comments and phrases which carry the message that unless you respond, look or sound the way I recognise, you’re not one of us. That in your difference, you are not one of us.And unless the groups are of equal strength and voice, the chance is that being 'one of them' comes with greater risk and less care. • Bi+ people • Questioning or people establishing identity • People already navigating multiple layers of difference Inclusion expands the circle — it never tightens it. Bottom line. That’s not inclusion. It’s creating belonging by conformity — a subtle form of gatekeeping that narrows community. 4. Finally, I'm sure you have heard or used “You know what I mean.” Again, this isn’t about eliminating these from the language or use. It is about becoming mindful of when you use it. "If you know, you know" IYKYK Because it implies a shared understanding: Check - if you’re saying it and someone genuinely doesn’t “know,” can they ask 'What do you mean?' without consequence? Will they be responded to? an answer easily given or will there be an eyeroll or uproarious laughter? and speaking up just marked them as different? Even in shared-identity spaces, this creates quiet in-groups and out-groups. No one should lose belonging just because they’re new to the language. Inclusion means inviting nuance, not punishing unfamiliarity These examples show, each of us can make a difference today — especially through language and small daily actions. It doesn’t matter your role in society. And yes! Change takes time; it’s like turning the Titanic — slow at first, then powerful. For too long, inclusion has been outsourced to those most affected by oppression, erasure, persecution - women, LGBTIQA+ people, people of colour, people fleeing persecution. They’ve carried the cost of speaking up. If you have power, you can interrupt harm now. And remember: when you have the ability to speak to communicate in some way. Silence is agreement. Silence can protect us, yes. But if silence is our default, especially in the face of injustice, we reinforce the harm, we are complicit.We want inclusion to feel good. But it doesn’t work that way. Real inclusion is uncomfortable It asks us to examine what we’ve normalised, to pause when we feel righteous or offended, and to change  The GOOD NEWS is that to be inclusive. You don’t need to be perfect You don’t need to know every acronym, flag, or experience.. Inclusion sounds like small interruptions in every day conversations. Inclusion sounds like saying “I don’t understand yet.” “I want to do better, but I’m unsure how. I can’t speak for that social group “I didn’t realise that caused harm - tell me more.” It’s not a checkbox It’s not a compliance video or another induction sign off. It’s curiosity with humility. It’s accountability with repair. It is knowing better and doing better every day. I know this session doesn’t leave you with answers or end points I hope, however, that it’s offered you some fresh questions — and a clearer sense of how to make a difference when the differences around you get real  Because what real inclusion asks of us is this: • Can you stay open when you don’t understand? Do you have the skills to listen to some, interrupt others, change systems — or yourself — and Inclusion isn’t something to believe in, it’s something that you do, especially when it’s inconvenient At the very least, Inclusion is about psychological safety and at its best, it is belonging.Remember, the moment we stop needing inclusion to feel good… is the moment we might actually begin  |
