To work in higher education is to have a profoundly deep level of experience with committee work. Higher education, as a field, is perhaps more invested in the use of committees for decision-making than any other industry. During my many committee experiences, I've often looked around the room and wondered why the group was so big and why there were so many units and perspectives represented many times over. I've also questioned why I was in the room, as my own intended contribution to the work wasn't clear. In similar fashion, many of my colleagues of color have stories of being asked to serve on a never ending string of committees under the thinly veiled assumption that there presence along adds "diversity" to the group and thus gives the committee more credibility. Their voice was not a factor, only their identity.
DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) work is grounded in the idea of inclusion. It's in the name, for goodness sake. We focus a lot on hiring and recruitment of underrepresented students, faculty, and staff. We create "pipeline" programs (an uncomfortable capitalist metaphor we should perhaps consider moving on from) to increase participation in fields, and we vigorously compete for qualified candidates. Increasing exposure, access, and opportunity are laudable goals, but the work far too often stops there. We regularly stop short of considering the environment we are asking someone to join, and the impact it has on their sense of belonging and value.
In both of these instances, we might find value in the idea of generous exclusion. Priya Parker speaks of generous exclusion as a kind of intentional exclusion from various spaces or groups. The act of excluding some can help others feel more welcomed and increase their belonging, as well as better fulfill the group's purpose. As she states, "by closing the door, you create the room."
When we act intentionally to form a group, and practice generous exclusion, a number of things can happen. Firstly, the intentional selection of individuals helps to identify and clarify the group's purpose for ourselves and those involved. We should never be wondering "why are they here?" If we are, then perhaps the group is too big.
Generous exclusion also focus in on who the group is really for. The formation of affinity groups in large organizations are pretty common. I help to oversee several of them myself, and I greatly respect and appreciate the amazing work they do. These groups have very clear boundaries for who the group is for, and who it is not. However, there can often be a pressure to be "open to everyone". There is nothing wrong with clearly identifying who belongs and why, and then simply offering other options for folks who might want to get involved but for whom the group is not intended.
One of the primary goals of most affinity groups is to create a welcoming space where folks feel supported, heard, and cared for by others. This means we need to protect that space from those who may disrupt the harmony that is created. New individuals may have the best of intentions in wanting to participate, to be seen as an ally, or otherwise demonstrate care, but the result may be a disruption to the very community they are there to support. I am always very intentional with the meetings I attend and invitations I accept, which are often offered out of courtesy because of my role. Sometimes I don't belong, and I don't want to disrupt that sense of belonging, however unintentionally it might be.
Generous exclusion can also lead to much more intentional and productive conversations with folks who were excluded. What are their needs? Where might they be able to best meet those needs? If not there, then where might they feel as though they belong?
Committees can be a great way to fill our calendars and demonstrate just how busy we are, with the assumption then being that we are working hard. When we start to practice generous exclusion and narrow our focus, what we are really doing is narrowing and clarifying our purpose in coming together. What are we trying to do? Who absolutely needs to be there to make that happen? Where do we want to meet to create a conducive environment for that work? How will we keep others not invited apprised of our work?
When we take this step to be intentional about our purpose and the audience necessary to achieve that purpose, we help foster the conditions necessary for collaborative success. So, next time you're pulling together a committee, ask yourself who really needs to be there and how you can politely explain your non-invite to those that don't. You'll be doing yourself, the group, and them a favor in the process!
