“What Was Wrong With Y’all?”: The Question That’s Coming for Us
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There’s a question that’s coming for us—one future generations are bound to ask.
“What was wrong with y’all?”
Not as a joke. Not even in anger.
But with a genuine, jaw-dropped sense of disbelief.
Because just like we look back at our ancestors and wonder how they tolerated injustice cloaked as normal – our children will look at us and ask the same.
They’ll ask why hiring someone (or not hiring someone) based on identity was even up for debate. Why people had to fight to wear their natural hair to job interviews. Why leaders needed “evidence” before they believed employees who spoke up about discrimination.
And they’ll be stunned that in our era, we still had to convince workplaces that equity wasn’t radical; it was responsible.
Think about it:
Remember how Amy Schumer joked that workplace sexual harassment was just “a thing” women had to deal with? That wasn’t comedy. That was commentary. Because for decades, men touching women at work – on the shoulder, the back, the waist, without consent – was considered normal. Something women learned to dodge, ignore, or politely laugh off to keep their jobs.
Our grandkids will say: Y’all let that fly at the office?
They’ll learn that it used to be legal to ask women if they planned on getting pregnant during a job interview and wonder how anyone justified that.
They’ll read that Black professionals had to change their hairstyles just to be seen as “professional” and ask why wearing the hair you were born with ever became a workplace liability.
They’ll ask why employees who shared stories of bias or exclusion were asked for documentation as if dignity required proof, or as if truth didn’t count unless it came with receipts.
And when we try to explain it, it won’t make sense. Because it shouldn’t.
They’ll ask why we called DEI “too political” instead of too urgent.
Why we clung to outdated standards in the name of “fairness” while ignoring how unfairly those standards were applied.
Why we measured merit without first measuring whether everyone had a real shot at being seen.
And the hardest truth of all? We’ll know the answer.
It wasn’t because we didn’t see it. It’s because we were scared to fix it.
Scared of the backlash.
Scared of losing power.
Scared of losing contracts or brand approval.
Scared that speaking up for equity might rock the boat—when in reality, the boat was never safe to begin with.
But fear has never been a reason to stand still.
When that question comes, “What was wrong with y’all?” I don’t want to fumble for excuses. I want to be able to say:
“We saw it. And we did something about it.”
That’s why I wrote The Equity Edge.
It’s not about giving anyone a handout. It’s about building the systems we should’ve had all along.
It reframes equity as correction—not favoritism.
It gives companies the clarity to identify bias, the tools to remove it, and the courage to finally live up to their values.
Because equity doesn’t give an edge to the individual—it gives an edge to the workplace that chooses to see them.
And when our children ask us how we let inequity happen for so long…
Let’s make sure they also learn how we finally made it stop.
📘 The Equity Edge (Purchase your copy today)
