As a young woman, I was fortunate enough to be immersed in diverse cultures, having traveled across both the East and the West. My curiosity about the world grew with every place I visited, and I was particularly drawn to the stark contrasts I saw in the educational systems and experiences of different groups of people. This curiosity quickly turned into a passionate commitment to understanding why these differences existed—and why, in many cases, they seemed so entrenched.
I had the privilege of volunteering with community-based organizations, where I became acutely aware of the disparities in education. It was a humbling experience, one that made me question how the “haves” and “have-nots” were treated within the system. One opportunity in particular stood out—a chance to work with a school that catered to lower- and middle-income students. I was excited to get involved, to bring my perspective as a recent graduate from an Australian university and contribute to meaningful change.
However, my enthusiasm was met with resistance. The students in this school were passionate, intelligent, and incredibly driven. But when I attempted to challenge the existing structures, proposing ways to elevate their educational experience, I was pushed back. The system didn’t want change—it didn’t want to look at itself and admit that there were cracks in its foundation. Despite my qualifications, I applied for the position of principal, eager to bring my ideas to life. Yet, my age became the reason I was denied. "Too young" they said. Instead, they hired a teacher already on staff who wasn’t fully qualified but was playing the political game well. She was my mother’s age, and while I had the qualifications and the drive, she had the connections.
After she became principal, I went back to visit her, hoping to share my ideas about teacher training and curriculum development. I truly believed that this school, where the students came from low-income backgrounds, could do better. But when I proposed these changes, she refused immediately, explaining that these students didn’t need such improvements—they were fine as they were. The focus, as it had been for years, was solely on preparing students to memorize for their Grade 10 board exams, not on fostering creativity, critical thinking, or personal growth.
It broke my heart to witness the limitations placed on these students. These young people were not just a means to an end to pass an exam—they were human beings with dreams and potential that deserved to be nurtured. The teachers and administrators, by focusing only on passing exams, were denying them the opportunity to become truly educated. They weren’t just learning how to read and write—they were being confined to a narrow, rigid system that didn’t care for their individuality, their potential, or their humanity.
This experience led me to question not just the education system but the very idea of fairness. It was clear that certain students were treated differently based on their background—an early lesson in the realities of discrimination that I would later see unfold in other sectors of life. Over time, I moved to a more “elite” school, which in many ways was the polar opposite of the one I had worked with. But even here, I encountered similar issues of inequality and exclusion, albeit in a different form.
My years working in both academia and industry opened my eyes to the pervasive nature of discrimination and marginalization, particularly in the corporate sector. I saw how certain groups of people were consistently sidelined, and this sparked a deeper question within me. Despite the push for diversity, equity, and inclusion (EDI) initiatives in many organizations, these issues remained entrenched. I began to wonder whether traditional approaches to ethics were truly addressing the root causes of inequality. This curiosity led me to pursue a PhD in spirituality, with the aim of exploring whether spiritual principles could offer a more effective framework for teaching ethics and inclusion at the university level. I believed that by incorporating spirituality into education, we might cultivate a more inclusive, compassionate environment—one where true equity and equality could thrive.
EDI is not just about equity—it’s about equality too. Equity ensures that everyone has access to the same opportunities, but equality is the belief that every person, regardless of their background, should have the same value, voice, and chance to succeed. We often talk about inclusion in theory, but it’s far too easy for it to become a buzzword, something that looks good on paper but doesn’t penetrate deep enough into the heart of an organization or institution.
For me, the issue goes beyond just ensuring that policies are in place to “include” people. The real change comes when we work to truly embody inclusivity in every aspect of our lives, from how we teach our children to how we lead our teams in the workplace. We need to stop seeing people as numbers or as a means to an end and start treating them as the unique, valuable individuals they are.
So, what needs to be done?
Rethink Education Systems: Education must stop being about ticking boxes and preparing students solely for exams. We need to nurture curiosity, critical thinking, and the ability to question and explore. Students, regardless of their socioeconomic background, deserve an education that helps them realize their potential. Education should be a space where all children can learn to think for themselves, not just memorize facts.
Invest in Teacher Training and Development: Teachers should be given the tools, resources, and support they need to adapt to the changing needs of their students. It’s not enough to simply teach content—it’s about empowering educators to foster an environment where every student feels seen, heard, and capable of growth. Teacher development should also focus on emotional intelligence, cultural competence, and inclusivity.
True Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion: EDI needs to be a lived experience, not just a set of policies. Equity ensures access to opportunities, but equality means treating everyone as equal in value and giving them the chance to succeed, regardless of where they come from. Inclusion should be embedded in the culture of every institution and organization. It’s about more than just filling quotas; it’s about creating a genuine sense of belonging.
Address Discrimination at Its Core: Discrimination, in any form, should never be accepted. It’s not just about making policies that prevent exclusion but about addressing the root causes of why certain groups are marginalized. In both education and industry, we need to actively work towards creating environments where everyone is treated with respect, dignity, and equality.
I’ve learned through my own journey—both in the classroom and beyond—that change doesn’t come easily. But I also know that true transformation is possible. By focusing on equality and inclusion—not just equity—we can create systems that nurture every person’s potential, no matter their background. It’s time to break down the barriers that divide us, to truly see each person’s humanity, and to build a world where everyone has the opportunity to thrive.
This is not just about making things “fair.” It’s about making things right.
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