How loud is your skin colour? As a proud Indian woman, sometimes I was silenced…

Many times, in my life, I’ve been silenced by the invisible hand of society covering my mouth when all I wanted to do was shout and scream but felt I couldn’t. This inability to be heard, whilst growing up, has been as a direct result of discrimination, restriction, and a lack of belonging in both my immediate cultural society and beyond. I am one of 5 sisters and a brother; my personal experiences had a significant impact on our confidence to speak out and therefore our relevance to society, individual identity, mental health and performance at work. “I don’t think you’ll fit in here!”

We were brought up in Slough and Windsor. Often me and my sisters never felt like we belonged in the networks we were trying to be accepted by. In our predominantly white, prep school, we were in the minority group, we had the worst car in the carpark, were known for not having much money. “You speak so well, where are you from?”

Even within our own cultural society we were not considered “Indian” enough and were therefore outsiders and regularly told “that’s not how Indian girls behave”. Again, these instructions created a resentment and feeling of wondering whether I have a voice and a place in society.  Despite all these experiences, I chose never to lean into any feelings of discomfort, prejudice or racial injustice. I often hoped, naively so, that I’d got it wrong, that they didn’t mean it, or that it wasn’t that bad – that maybe I’d imagined it. “Can you make a good curry?”

At work I knew I was often not picked for major projects, despite having the best attainment records of my peers. Or that sometimes I was picked for projects, because of my ethnicity, or to help the team look more diverse for a pitch. Sometimes knowing I was being passed over for promotion, in place of less qualified, less able white colleagues, would get to me, but I never addressed it. It was maybe too painful at the time and again my voice fell silent. “I’ve always fancied having an Indian woman”

A few years ago that changed fundamentally; I have been a Partner advising executives for years now, however, my recent move to a DEI consultancy called Equiida has elevated my platform for transformation and the meaningful development of inclusive high performing executive teams. Now I rise above the historically louder voices and find myself with an even stronger ability to influence a decision-maker, to be fairer, more inclusive, led by compassion and integrity, I have begun to proudly stand out in recent years and stand against the microaggressions I still hear today. Challenging senior executives is never easy, but it’s essential in my job and I still wish I’d been braver and spoken up earlier in my life. 

Now my voice is becoming equal in the circles I spend time in and I will continue to impact the global agenda for equity, justice and sustainable performance, so that more women and people of colour, or any minority group, do not have to face the violence and aggression of prejudices designed to silence them. “What sort of name is that?”

My name is Lucky Johal-Goulsbra and all of the quoted comments in this article have actually been said to me by people in positions of authority.

Society is changing but the voices of the few must be louder, prouder and be supported by the many to create a roaring voice of real change.

How loud are you going to be to create real change? When have you had the courage to disagree in order to create difference? What can you share that will give others strength to speak out?