Inclusivity is the practice of embracing and valuing diversity. It involves creating an environment where everyone feels welcome, respected, and valued, regardless of their background, identity, or characteristics. Inclusive spaces recognize and celebrate individual differences, such as gender, race, class, sexuality, and disability. Rather than excluding anyone, inclusivity encourages active participation and contributions from all. It’s about fostering a sense of belonging, promoting equal rights, and ensuring that everyone can express their unique perspectives and talents.
Tuyet Van Do
end of year party management encourages children to sit with their respective adults
meeting at new work place rainbow posters display on the wall
team building coworkers come to work celebrating multiculturalism with food and colorful costumes
Ram Chandran
buddha garden a cherry blossom for each one an American, Asian, African... and for a stateless too
flowing miles and miles... this river still has a bit of the mountain in the waters
midnight the moon is sailing through the pool of stars... a flash from the lighthouse welcomes the refugee boat
night rain in the newly dug grave blades of grasses welcoming the lowering casket
David He Zhuanglang
drops of sweat falling from his beard a monk meditates...
a young man hands the faded rose to his girlfriend... she hugs him with a gentle smile
Christina Chin
single handed from morning till night extended family under one roof mother's chores
generation gap aunt and nieces the early bond granddad lays
Ford Consul backseat kids grandpa enrolls them in ballet classes
Nitu Yumnam
a dim star unnoticed in the bright sky… another child…marginalized in the shadows
bullied child . . . clipped before the sky the feathers of a sparrow fledgling
bitter winds from all sides "life’s so cruel…" staring at the scanty plate the face of a refugee
Xenia Tran
seaweed on rippled sand a beach ball still holds the space within its funky colours
meditating on soft grass a white feather tickles my arm to fall awake again
so empty since the trees left ... I'd love to return one day and see the fruits of our rewilding
Randy Brooks
MOTHER embroidered on a handkerchief the Cherokee great-grandmother I never knew
never lived in one place long enough to call it home hermit crab
pregnant naturally the first to see all the pregnancies at the zoo
Sarah Das Gupta
Bent over the desks black, brown, blonde heads chat, confer, suggest, the story is developing dragons, spaceships and heroes
My grandfather sits by the fire telling stories of derring-do in the burning North African desert. We listen enthralled, in the shadows, ghosts of old comrades
In Sikh Gudwaras, rough sleepers and the poor, the flotsam and jetsam of the city streets are served food respectfully
Jerome Berglund
a man of substance... identifying medication is not a diagnosis
patrolling blood cell if it doesn't speak to you perhaps speaking about you
I love you and see you you’re enough but you’re not invited to our party
Diane Funston
nurses ask questions they want me to answer “ask him” I say, referring to my client Down syndrome isn’t deafness
choosing for softball teams in teenage gym classes I ran slowly but I could hit that ball kept me from last chosen
cookie dough rolled out each child takes a turn pressing handprints to be baked even the girl missing fingers
Jackie Chou
sitting alone at the Chinese students dance my cheongsam didn't earn me entrance into their exclusive club
a paper doll cut off from the chain I wake each day with nowhere to go and no friends to see
a few blossoms peeking through the tree trunk later the wild blooming of the unincluded
Marilyn Humbert
the smiles as they sign Auslan setting aside playground politics talking to the deaf girl
lunchtime… the refugee girl swaps lentil curry and rice for a vegemite sandwich
marching down main street waving banners we all live under the same sun
Mark Gilbert
off the leash three dogs paddling in the tide two women sharing their lives
two voices close but not the same differences accentuated imperfections joined in human harmony
at the poetry recital both frogs and toads are welcome
celebrating diversity a leaflet left on every flat surface
Bryan Rickert
learning how to get along not one bird turned away from our feeder
the old lady at the back of church loving it when everybody calls her grandma
no matter who you are the waitress at the corner diner calling you sweetie
the first day of kindergarten everyone welcome to sit in the circle and share
not knowing race, color, or creed this earth we are spoiling for our children
Kathabela Wilson
international guests at our family table mom’s mixing bowl she liked to stir the world together
one of our poets shares poems in braille blind from birth her enlightening program on visual memory
poets on site a fanfare of flutes on a world tour all our languages simultaneously spoken
Rupa Anand
a frail feral joins me in the sun for a snack his steady purr colours the lengthening day
through open windows funny-faced pansies bring cheer somewhere in the world a newborn baby’s first cry
the cow nuzzles her calf while it suckles checking the menu i order neither cow nor calf
Biswajit Mishra
watching three runaways having fun, their language, unknown but our laugher times well with subtitles
I see waxwings swarming in winter as if to fill for the geese sojourning south so magpies don’t feel alone
summer afternoon lilac scent wafts in from trees behind the fences I walk by, I close my eyes to say thanks
Jon Hare
running with the wind thinking about people running the other way
pieces of porcelain saved from discard joined together with gold lacquer translated vases
Roberta Beach Jacobson
new place with an unknown language now home neighbors greet her by name and invite her over to play
teacher learns preferred pronouns of the kids in her class, her school respecting one and all
Terri Watrous Berry
INVITATION
Come to the party pretend and we can lend you back your family blood much thicker than water we can then use in the stew
Chen-ou Liu
my chanting voice wavers between hope and acceptance swirls of incense hover over the Buddha
my Jewish friend turns off the TV and asks in barely a whisper can one's fragmented heart contain two pains at once?
a caged monkey runs up and down back and forth as if it could flee ... in its eyes I see my fate
Peter Larsen
the sisters at gamma alpha mu like their new pledge she dresses well and isn’t too pretty
I changed the B on my English exam to a D for showing the big boys at the school bus stop
antisemites and white nationalists don’t harass me because I look like them and keep my mouth shut
nobleman, Jacobin, bourgeois, or queen-- they’re all just heads to Madame Guillotine
Ron Scully
reunion at the reading of the will with coffee and powdered donuts each of us learned finally where we stood
it took her hours to get me down on my knees hands in the dirt it was as good for her as the growth of the marigolds
Tyson West
richmond summer sweat we ate the same burgers smoked the same fags whites smiling in black face blacks grinning in white
boys from a murder of skins and tribes salute their chosen flag esprit at ease―all wounded and corpses will march home
red tribe blue tribe boundary crossed for pot, guns, and abortion all ponder the conundrum drag queen bible study
Susan Rogers
New Year’s service the rabbi invites a Muslim to chant for peace I bow my head and smile
I tell my nephew formerly my niece I love him and miss him summer silence
remember Solomon’s solution Israel and Gaza-- a true mother would not sacrifice her child you share one baby
(Solomon threatened to cut a baby in half to share with two would be mothers)
Lorraine A Padden
lichen on the headstone the last name in a bloodline rehomed
rushing over with my last two oreos… just before the bell ends recess
garden wedding holding hands amidst the roses and a few thorns
Anthony Lusardi
with his mom a boy with down syndrome grocery shopping giving the cashier food stamps
for next summer the inlander with no legs buying handles for his surfboard
tomato cans hand-painted by special-needs kids protecting tulip sprouts
Debbie Strange
wildfires rage across the tundra . . . my conscience chooses to rescue both predator and prey
three sisters in hand-me-downs cling together at their new school . . . together, yet apart
we adopt the deaf Dalmatian pup no one wanted, so perfectly imperfect and worthy of love
Richard L. Matta
bay party cruise the new single looking at the bait barge one seagull mingles in a cormorant roost
lightning strike a plasma ball forms beside me the way she said marry or miss me
it vanished into the purple sky just echoes remain reminding me to honor a blue heron’s space
Genevieve S Alguinaldo
flowers of different colors swaying at the song of a common blackbird
no two pebbles are alike in the fresh stream but each one shielded from the sun's heat
under the rubbles their words may be different but their eyes speak of the same desire to live
C.X. Turner
a forest of withered trees in later life I reject the myth of them and us
muddy forest alive with birdsong I recall how it feels to be included
fingernails first digging in the dark of my past . . . the patch where the grass dies growing up strong
planting in a garden of rubble I join a network of like-minded individuals
Steve Wilkinson
the sound of thousands of voices I don’t know the language but I feel their pain
hidden in plain sight years of hiding who he is afraid to come out
race, religion and gender instead of division try to follow the peace outlined in your holy books