From Pizza to Purpose: Leading with Inclusion
In recent weeks, I’ve stepped outside my comfort zone and into a more visible space, sharing more, reflecting more, and yes, posting more. For someone who’s typically private and only shows up on social media once in a blue moon, this is unfamiliar territory. I’ve asked myself: How will people perceive me? Am I being authentic? How often should I post? And what will the trolls say?
Last week, I came across a quote by Brené Brown that stopped me in my tracks:
“Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.”
That was the nudge I needed. It reminded me that clarity isn’t just about communication, it’s about courage. It’s about showing up, telling your story, and standing in your truth. So here I am, telling mine.
At leadRpoint, my vision is to weave inclusivity into every service we offer. We’re not just checking boxes; we’re cultivating socially responsible leaders who can create waves of positive change across industries. And while the world feels increasingly divided, I believe we’re at the beginning of a people-first movement, one rooted in empathy, equity, and accountability.
But this journey didn’t start with a business plan. It started with a slice of pizza.
A Moment That Changed Everything
I grew up in Whittier, California, a predominantly Hispanic community, with two deaf-mute grandparents and two Black siblings who didn’t look anything like me. Our home was a beautiful blend of cultures, languages, and lived experiences. But I didn’t realize how different we were in the eyes of the world until one December afternoon in middle school.
My older brother and I had pooled our change to buy a slice of pizza from Tony’s at the Whitwood Mall (shout out to my Whittier friends who remember Tony’s!). As we shared our slice, an older white woman walked by and smiled, “What a cute couple.” We weren’t a couple, we were siblings. But in that moment, I realized that society didn’t see us the way we saw each other. That comment, seemingly harmless, was my first real encounter with the assumptions people make based on appearance.
The Power of Perspective
It wasn’t until years later, during Unity Day training at Anne Arundel County Public Schools, that I began to understand the depth of those assumptions. It opened my eyes to the microaggressions and unconscious bias my siblings had faced for years, things I had been shielded from by privilege.
I remember my sister telling me about a time she was working as an extra on a TV set. During lunch, they served greens as part of the crew meal. Someone assumed she’d be excited about it. But she wasn’t. We grew up eating beans and rice, not greens. That moment stuck with her, and with me. It was a reminder that people often project their assumptions onto others, without understanding the full story.
Why This Work Matters
These stories, mine, my siblings’, and so many others are why I do this work. They’re why I believe DEIA (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility) isn’t just a fading fad. It’s a responsibility. It’s a commitment to seeing people fully, honoring their experiences, and creating spaces where everyone feels they belong.
At leadRpoint, we’re not perfect. But we’re intentional. We’re building a people-first movement rooted in developing socially responsible leaders. And we’re doing it one conversation, one workshop, one story at a time.
These are just a few of the many stories I could share, but they are not mine to tell. I was merely a bystander with privilege.