Micro-Inclusion: Everyday Small Acts That Shift Culture

When we think about “inclusion,” it’s easy to imagine the big stuff – social activities & programs, policy reviews, commitment statements. Yes, they matter. But in my experience, inclusion often rises or falls in the small, everyday moments. We often think of inclusion in the context of how other people feel. But that is an outcome. Inclusion isn't about them, its about us. To say it another way, I can't "make" you feel included. What I can do is signal to you that you are invited into the space, to be part of the group. And that is communicated in signals and moments.

• Who you greet first when you walk into the room.

• Whose idea you circle back to after it got interrupted.

• Whether you adjust your meeting time so the caregiver in another time zone doesn’t have to keep sacrificing sleep.

These are micro-acts of leadership. They may not look like much on the surface, but they send powerful signals. They tell people, I see you. I value you. You belong here.

Why Micro-Inclusion Matters

In my keynote at Scaling New Heights this past June, I invited people to think back to a time when they walked into a room where they didn’t know anyone. Maybe it was a professional conference, maybe a networking event, maybe even the first day at a new job.

I know for me, my first thought wasn’t wondering about the strategy of this organization or how interesting this program will be. Those were my second or third thoughts. The first was almost always more human: Will anyone talk to me? Will I connect with someone here?

This isn't about insecurity or neediness. Longing for connection is a universal human need. It’s the first bridge toward belonging. But when you’re the new person – or the only woman, the only person of color, the only person with a visible disability or the one who doesn’t know the inside jokes – it can feel like standing outside a window, watching everyone else laugh and chat while you hover awkwardly at the door.

In my keynote, I gave the example of being invited to a long-standing dinner group that decides to invite a new guest. For the insiders, it’s a small change. For the guest, it’s a big leap of vulnerability. Walking into a room full of people who already know each other is daunting. And in those first moments, micro-inclusion determines everything. Does someone wave you over? Do they pause to introduce you? Do they make space for you to sit in – not just physically, but relationally?

The answer shapes whether you feel welcomed…or reminded that you’re an outsider.

The Identity Iceberg

Part of what makes micro-inclusion so powerful is that it acknowledges what most of us instinctively sense: people are more complex than what’s visible at first glance.

I often use the iceberg as a metaphor. Above the waterline are the things you can see: my height, my skin color, maybe my gender, perhaps my nose piercing. A little deeper, you might notice signals of religion, language, or style. If we talk a bit, you might discover my profession or where I’m from.

But below the surface are the stories, histories, experiences, and challenges that are invisible. Trauma. Grief. Caregiving responsibilities. Values shaped by cultural traditions. These are the deeper layers of identity that, taken as a whole, shape how we move through the world. They don’t sit on the surface. They sit in the heart.

Micro-inclusion is about signaling that we’re open to all of someone, not just what’s visible above the waterline. It’s about pausing assumptions, flipping the switch from judgment to curiosity, and making small moves that leave the door open for people to reveal more of who they are if and when they choose. It reminds me of that India Arie song Little Things:

In the little things (in the little things)

And the joy they bring

It's the little things (its the little things)

And the joy they bring

Simple as a phone call just to make it known

That you're gonna be a little late

Pure as a kiss on the cheek and a word

That everything will be okay

Call in the morning from my little sister

Singing to me happy birthday

When you quest for fortune and fame

Don't forget about the simple things

Practical Ways to Practice Micro-Inclusion

Culture is built in patterns. If leaders consistently practice micro-inclusion – making space for the quiet voice, noticing the person who hasn’t spoken, checking assumptions at the door – those patterns become cultural norms. Inclusion stops being a program and starts being the way things are done.

Belonging, as I said in my keynote, is the outcome of the space we craft together. It’s not everyone knowing everything about everyone else. It’s the web of small connections where people feel seen, respected, and safe enough to bring more of themselves forward.

Here are a few simple, everyday leadership practices that build inclusive cultures without fanfare:

• If someone’s idea gets overlooked, bring it back. “I’d like to return to what Maya said earlier. It deserves a bit more attention.”

• Share airtime. Invite perspectives from those who haven’t spoken. Ask explicitly, “What do you think?” (being careful not to create pressure)

• In hybrid meetings, check in with remote participants so they don’t get sidelined. A brief “Hey there” in the chat is warm without being distracting.

• Be curious. Instead of assuming you know someone’s story, invite it. “I’d love to hear more about your perspective on this.”

• Signal openness with small gestures – a quiet nod, a smile, a seat saved at the table. They may be small signals, but they carry disproportionate weight.

• If scheduling always favors one group, rotate times. If recognition always goes to extroverts, find ways to celebrate quieter contributions.

None of these are glamorous. But inclusion rarely is. It’s in the dailiness of how we show up.

Micro Moments – Collective Culture

Here’s the paradox: micro-inclusion is deeply personal, but its impact is collective. One leader choosing to make space in a meeting doesn’t just change that moment; it models behavior for others. Over time, those ripples accumulate.

Think about your workplace as a web. Each small act of inclusion adds a strand, a one-on-one connect. Each strand strengthening the net. Eventually, the web becomes strong enough to hold everyone. That’s when belonging shifts from fragile to real.

My Invitation to You

If culture is made of patterns, then leaders have an incredible opportunity, and responsibility, to shape those patterns with intention and purpose. Not through slogans, strategies or policies, but through the micro-choices made every single day.

So here’s my invitation: Pay attention to the small. Ask yourself:

• Who do I greet first?

• Whose voice am I amplifying?

• Where may I have unconsciously created distance, and how might I bridge it?

Because inclusion isn’t only about the big things. It’s about the everyday signals that whisper to someone. The phrase” being inclusive” reminds us that inclusion is about me, not you. By that, I mean that inclusion is an expression of my intention to create space, stay open, show respect, and cultivate safety for you to simply be as you are, where you are.

And when enough of us practice micro-inclusion, belonging stops being an aspiration. It becomes reality. It is the outcome of the space we created for each other.