I was excited to attend Leadership School 2025 with the Ministry of Justice, it was a unique experience that I looked forward to attending in person for a long time.
During a session led by Sam Conniff, we were asked to “ask an awkward question to your neighbour.”
My group facilitator, Mark Buttanshaw, turned to me and asked, gently:
“How does it feel to be the only non-white person in the group?”
He seemed to sense a quiet discomfort I hadn’t yet recognised in myself. So, it took me a few moments to even process what he meant.
I had noticed my own minority presence and the striking majority in the room, but in my group, I just saw people — their energy — and my own.
Only after he asked did I realise that yes… I was the only brown person in that small circle.
When I asked him in return how he felt about it, Mark said:
“Honestly, I feel uncomfortable, being aware of how white this room is.”
That moment stayed with me. It reminded me that even in today’s beautifully diverse world — where diversity has progressed so far that some even see it as a “problem” — there are still spaces where our identities can still carry the quiet weight of generational memories of exclusion and underrepresentation.
Moments that whisper: you’re still the first, or the only.
It also made Tracie Jolliff’s words from her session echo louder: “Don’t be silent. Open the dialogue. Keep talking about race, inequality, and discrimination — because silence is what sustains it.”
Her message, combined with that honest remark by Mark, reminded me that true inclusion doesn’t come from avoiding discomfort — it comes from facing it, together.
And that’s exactly why the UK Civil Service plays such a crucial role today — in continuing to define the gold standard for fairness, inclusion, and representation.
Not as a policy, but as a lived experience.
💡 The week was filled with extraordinary lessons and stories of courage:
✨ Baroness Rennie Fritchie, whose journey from single parent to multiple honorary degrees showed that leadership isn’t linear — it’s built on resilience.
✨ Laura McAllister, who spoke with honesty about the loneliness of being one of the few women at the top — and how we need more women to normalise success with families, as men always have.
✨ Amy Holmes, reframing barriers as boundaries — a message of compassion and balance.
✨ Thimon de Jong, reminding us that amid the AI revolution and polycrisis, the midlife generation stands strong as the emotional backbone for Gen Z and beyond.
✨Sam conniff, shared some unconventional ways of turning our fears into opportunities and how to be more pirate.
✨ Emmanuel Gobillot, had the wittiest stories and his talks on the importance of having knee to knee communication in this age of technology and remote working.
✨Jennifer Rademaker, energetic and charismatic leadership snippets from her included ideas like hands on the back and not on the face, No-whys vs Yes-ifs and giving the analogy of adding extra veggies and gravy to basic meal to explain her idea of putting extra effort in ones work life.
But what I took away went far beyond any theory or frameworks. Coming from an Indian background, I sometimes hesitate — out of cultural humility, fear of not fitting in, or the belief that leadership “belongs” to others. But the truth is: our perspectives, resilience, and empathy are exactly what leadership needs. I would share one message for anyone who’s ever felt like the only one in the room:
Step forward. Reflect and grow. You belong there too.
I’m proud to be part of an organisation that invests in both the skills and the soul of leadership. And as Mark wished, I hope many more people from varying background will choose to attend and make Leadership School become a colorful and shining example of inclusion and diversity.
I didn’t expect a single question to shift my perspective on belonging, but it did — and I’ll carry that lesson for life.
*****
