What We’ve Forgotten to Recognize About Workplace Affinity Spaces

Affinity spaces can make employees with underrepresented identities feel a short-term sense of belonging at work. But we must recognize that they aren’t long-term inclusion solutions.

Let me bring you back to one of my favorite experiences as an Equity, Diversity & Inclusion consultant to date. It was while working on a production of The Color Purple the Musical. As a creative team, we’d engaged in so many amazing, and difficult, discussions about Blackness. Yes, we were all Black. But we all came to The Color Purple with different lived experiences — from feeling right at home at a Black church, to feeling ostracized because of gender identity or sexual orientation, to struggling to claim a “right” to Blackness.

As I wrote in a program note for the show: “Though the stereotypes that often come along with Blackness do not define us, Blackness itself is a part of our identity. We all share in the joy, strength and resilience of our people.”

We’d practiced the strength and resilience parts a ton during the rehearsal and production process. After all of that hard work, we agreed we deserved to celebrate our shared joy. Hence, my thought to create a “Black Joy Celebration.”

Let me tell you — it was truly the best. There was singing, dancing, sunshine and food. And while the celebration was clearly centered around the joy and pride of the Black community, we didn’t limit the guest list to just Black people.

We invited anyone who wanted to celebrate Black joy. Non-Black folks, both in and out of the organization, joined us in the singing, dancing and eating. They also flipped burgers on the grill, helped behind the buffet line, and put away chairs once the event was over. These folks helped lift some of the logistical burden with their support. They also had the opportunity to immerse themselves fully in Black joy, and the celebration of Black humanity.

It wasn’t an affinity space. It was a more meaningful step forward for the organization than that.

The ‘Why’ Behind Affinity Spaces?

Let me back up. Let’s talk about affinity spaces first before I jump in to tell you why and how ‘Black Joy’ was different.

Affinity spaces can feel really good. They give folks of marginalized or underrepresented identities spaces to come together and bring their full selves to their workplaces. They’re dedicated toward support, networking, and fostering cultural and community engagement.

However, it’s crucial to remember the main reason why these groups have to exist in the first place. It’s because the systems of most workplaces were not designed with these people in mind. It’s because, regardless of any DEI or anti-racism statements, any rainbow flags or ‘Hate has no home here’ signs, they don’t believe they fully belong at work.

Affinity spaces, then, are a short-term fix for the issue of inclusion and belonging. The thinking is: How do we make people who feel excluded feel a sense of belonging? Or, members of any given group asking, “Where is a space where we can bring our full selves to work?” The easy answer becomes: Put folks into breakout groups (literally or virtually) where they feel an inherent sense of belonging.

But hear me out — this is where the hot take comes in. Affinity spaces aren’t doing much at all when it comes to long term EDI efforts. I believe they address the work of Diversity — temporary stopgaps for belonging for underrepresented identities (a necessary short-term step in many cases, don’t get me wrong!) But. Affinity spaces skirt the work of systemic Equity, and therefore don’t take us any closer to workplace Inclusion. (Check out another of my articles if you’re interested in nerding out with a deeper EDI breakdown.)

Affinity spaces are band-aids for the “othered” and require no change effort from the majority or the system at large. This is why in the long term, affinity spaces tend to enhance the workplace divide. People feel a sense of belonging only when they literally retreat to their own corners with people who are, in some way, like them. There’s no middle to meet in.

I can hear past clients’ exasperated voices in my ear as I write this: “But Kira, we welcome everyone! We are open to everyone. Why do folks need affinity spaces?”

Workplace culture as a system can be tough to grasp (and I’d need a lot more paper to dive in there). So let me give a more tangible example. It would be like telling remote-working wheelchair users that they are all welcome to a full company social event. We’re open and welcoming! We’re not excluding anyone from the invite list! This can be an example of superficial, lip-service diversity “work”. But equity and inclusion ask the important questions — what are we inviting people to, and more importantly, who is the we?

In this example, the social is on the second floor, and there are no elevators or ramps. So the wheelchair users cannot access the what. And the we is well-meaning able-bodied people who have never had to consider ramps or elevators. If there is no way for the invitees to get to the meeting on the second floor, they have no choice but to conduct their own meeting on the first floor (or just not show up at all).

Saying “all are welcome” is not equity. Restructuring the building so that folks can access the social easily via wheelchair is equity. Or moving the social to the more accessible first floor — that’s also equity. It’s easier to understand this concept when it’s visible — like with ADA compliance. The equity of belonging is a lot harder to grasp — but the same idea applies.

Creating spaces for folks who don’t feel like they belong at the social is the short term step. The affinity space. It’s not helping to advance the work of inclusion.

Affinity Spaces In Personal Life

Let me be clear here though. I am only talking about affinity spaces at work, not in personal spaces. (I’m also not touching the subject of affinity spaces for students in schools, because that is a whole other, very complicated topic.) Affinity spaces in our personal lives are not only amazing — they’re 100% necessary. They give us a place to drop the hard work of inclusion and to just be. To not have to work hard — to just take off our metaphorical shoes, kick back and kick it with people who “get it”.

I love these groups, and I’m part of many of them (one of my favorites being a “Black family dinner” group where Black artists get together to bond, vent, and eat good old-fashioned soul food). Chances are, no matter who you are or what your identity, you are part of affinity groups in your personal life. Let’s look to the Miriam-Webster definition of affinity groups: “A group of people having a common interest or goal or acting together for a specific purpose.”

Sounds a lot like friendship to me. What do you think? And we all, unquestioningly, need community like this in our personal lives to fuel us. This kind of affinity is easy, as it should be. But at work, we’re aiming to create equitable and inclusive systems. And that work is hard.

There’s Something Better We Can Try

Back to different spaces that can more directly impact workplace inclusion — like ‘Black Joy’.

Another amazing example before I dig into the answer of what’s better — an end-of-year retreat for Black women entrepreneurs. The mission of the 3-day planning event was to equip founders and CEOs with up-to-date knowledge, skills, tools & motivation to reach their financial goals. Each participant’s goal varied, but the overarching goal of the program was clear: to create more Black wealth in an effort to close the absurd racial wealth gap for Black women.

But this event also wasn’t an affinity space. Throughout the course of the retreat, we of course heard from amazingly inspiring Black women millionaires. And. At this retreat, a cis white male mayor stood in front of the group to both share the progress of his initiatives aimed at putting more wealth into the hands of the Black community, and to hear and collect our feedback (which he actively followed up on). Later, an incredibly savvy white woman and tech professional shared knowledge with us that made our jaws drop (quite literally). The expertise she shared has already helped me to grow my business just weeks later.

These professionals were not Black, but they were all in on the mission of the retreat — to support Black women toward wealth. The amazing part about that? The full labor of education and support didn’t have to fall squarely on Black women in order to create a space that was focused on Black women. Just look at my amazing business coach below sitting down and taking a nice break during her retreat. (Shoutout to the amazing SistahBiz!)

“Spotlight Spaces” Are a Magical Next Step

I’d like to propose a longer term solution that bridges the gap between affinity spaces and full systemic inclusion. It’s what I did at the Black Joy celebration, and the heart of the CEO retreat I attended. I’m calling this the “spotlight space.”

In theater, I think it’s easy to understand the concept of spotlight spaces. Doing a musical about Black people in Georgia in the early 1900’s? Let’s set up the system as best we can, and make sure we have the representation we need to tell the story. Then, let’s shine a light on the community and invite anyone who wants to join in the mission of the space.

For example, let’s say an employee has been called to learn more about Black culture. They’ve Googled and YouTubed and consumed lots of media and literature. But in their workplace, the door is shut to Black affinity groups where real humans they know are engaging and bringing their full selves.

With spotlight spaces, this well-meaning ally can get to know Black humans at work. They can help, uplift, and connect with real people they know. And they get to witness and experience nuance, hear important conversations, and yes, build affinity. This is how we experience the full breadth of culture. Not from Google or YouTube, but in community with the actual people.

Now, of course there’s a lot of trust-building that needs to happen before spotlight spaces can work well. (A good Inclusion consultant can help with that!) But I’d argue that we must get there soon across the board. Right now, careless DEI work is enhancing the divide. Folks in majority groups are learning about culture from the outside. Or they’re trying to piece together curriculum that seems to check boxes. Or they’re just not engaging at all because they don’t have time to, don’t have motivation to, or feel disenfranchised by “the work” at large. And folks from underrepresented identities continue to vent frustrations to each other — mostly unheard (again, both metaphorically and literally) by the people who have the power to support real change.

Hence the magic of spotlight spaces. Like at the Black joy event — we were not creating a space where Black people would do the educating. It wasn’t a talkback or a workshop. We were inviting them to live authentically in a space where others could participate in real time. Non-Black folks were invited, not just to watch the party, but to engage in it. To part a real part of it.

Which brings me to the other amazing thing about spotlight spaces –they can be fun. Underrepresented groups aren’t expected to perform. They are just invited to be. These spaces don’t invite majority group folks to feel guilt-ridden or fearful. They invite them to show up. Spotlight spaces are about shared humanity within a different and highlighted cultural context.

Two more “spotlight space” examples for you where I was not in the spotlit group. I recently worked on two beautiful shows: One was in Boston — a play called English about Iranians learning English in order to pass the TOFL. The other was in Arkansas — a musical called The Band’s Visit, about the intimate connection formed between a group of Egyptian musicians and small town Israelis.

These groups had tons of cultural representation, both onstage and offstage (a prerequisite for spotlight spaces). What they needed was support in creating the art so that labor didn’t fall fully on their community.

I am not Iranian or Israeli or Egyptian. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t support these amazing artists in inclusion efforts on the shows. As a consultant, I aimed to create a brave space for these culturally-specific groups of people. I listened more than I spoke, and I did everything in my power to hold and support them all.

These were beautiful versions of spotlight spaces. Both projects had clear people to spotlight, and lots of different identities present to support those communities. And personally, I learned a ton from supporting both of these shows. More importantly, I felt such a loving connection to these communities following my work because they let me in to so much real humanity.

In a nutshell (wrap it up, Kira), spotlight spaces help everyone experience that difficult-to-grasp concept of culture, which helps in working toward the equity of creating full workplace culture that works for all. Spotlight spaces are actionable stepping stones on the path toward understanding, empathy, and full systemic workplace inclusion.

In a perfect world — or at least in my long term vision of inclusion — we wouldn’t need affinity groups or spotlight spaces. We’d work in systems where we all feel empowered and called to express the full versions of ourselves at work. We’d celebrate what makes us different in an environment where everyone is curious — where people know when to take center stage, when to stand in the wings and when it’s time for a full cast 11 o’clock number.

But until then — we can work to build trust within our organizations and projects. And then we can take more meaningful, more long-term steps toward inclusion by harnessing the power of the spotlight.