Who Gets To Belong? And Who Doesn’t?
I was new to Canada. I came as a student to get my Master’s degree. I was one of 40 other international students – students from over 13 different countries. And while I was one of two people from North America, I absolutely loved it.
I would often go out to restaurants, walk around the city, and do new activities with my newly found group of international group of friends. We shared the same excitement of being in a new country, were mutually shocked at how often people said ‘sorry’ and wondered why peacocks seemed to be everywhere on our campus located on Vancouver Island.
The Briefcase Belief
I was out with my friend from China. We’re seated at a table in a pub and the waiter comes to our table. He opens with the polite, kind small talk, ‘How you folks doing tonight?’ ‘Nice weather we’re having!’ We give him our order and enjoy our fries and sandwiches, wondering if we should have ordered the poutine. We finish our meal, the waiter brings us the bill and we each pay the split tab. As he waits for us to pay the small chat continues.
I’m pushing the tip button on the little machine when I hear the waiter ask my friend “Where are you from?” My friend shares that he is from China. I hit ‘accept’ on the screen and take the little paper receipt and then hand the machine back to the waiter. It’s my friend’s turn to pay so the waiter redirects his curious questions to me. I’m ready to be asked the same question, ready to tell him I’m from the United States. But the inquiry to where I was from never came. He asks me what my plans are the rest of the day instead. He thanks us and wishes us a good evening.
At the time, I thought nothing of it. The waiter was nice, curious, friendly and asked us questions from an intent to get to know us better.
But the same question, the same scenario kept happening. Anytime I was with my international friends, the same question of ‘Where are you from?’ was always directed at them and never at me.
After our first year, my friend from China said something that changed how I viewed this consistent exchange.
“I just want to fit in, belong. But every time I’m asked where I am from, I feel separated from everyone else in that moment. . . like I’m ‘other’. It’s tiring to always be asked the same question when there is so much more to know about me.”
I was silent.
I was saddened.
I was oblivious and yes, even ignorant.
What felt like a curious question to me, became a method of displacement and exclusion for my friend. And not just one time, but many times.
He didn’t have an accent. He lived in the States for a few years before coming to Canada. He attended a British boarding school.
But he didn’t look white . . . like me.
And this was the reality – the invisible briefcase that I carried. I could walk into a restaurant, meet a stranger, or have small chat with a bank teller. These brief moments would never leave me feeling alienated or displaced. I wasn’t seen as someone else from somewhere else. Belonging came easy for me. I could walk away from strangers or new conversations feeling more a part of Canada, my new home that I was driven to create.
But this belonging didn’t come because of anything I did or said. My belonging came because I looked like people who fit their definition of ‘Canadian’.
That singular confession from my friend changed me. And I continued seeing it played out in other parts of my life, from my family, from white friends and in overhearing more waiter conversations across the restaurant floor.
The Collision Moment
Some of you might be thinking, Andrea, people are only being curious. They don’t mean to make people feel excluded. You're making a bigger deal about it than it is.
Let’s unpack that:
If someone was curious about me the same way they were with my international friends, then why didn’t they ask me the same question? By that logic, then no stranger was really curious about me.
The honest answer is people were curious about me but refrained from asking about my country of origin because I looked like them.
Curiosity shouldn’t be selective if it’s truly from a place of wonder.
And if you’re still hesitant to agree, let’s redirect our attention to those who’ve experienced it.
My Misinterpretation
In 2017, CNN conducted a social media survey and captured over 2,000 stories and experiences of people who have been asked the same question. From a woman being asked her ethnicity at a job interview to a man being told he needs to go back to ‘his own’ country (despite being born in America), the experiences and impact of this question go deeper that we may understand. But this is the work of unpacking our invisible briefcase and understanding how others experience the world
“I was asked, ‘What colour are you?’ I literally thought the person was colourblind, so I said, ‘tan’ kind of puzzled. Then someone clarified that the person meant where I am from, to which I answered New York.”
“As a darker skinned Hispanic man from California, being from California is never an acceptable answer when I travel. Even when in California, the fact that I don’t speak fluent Spanish seems to be a problem with many people. Yet a majority of people of other ethnicities don’t speak their ancestors’ language.”
“I'm a 36-year-old Puerto Rican and I grew up in Youngstown, Ohio. ALL my life I have been asked, "where are you from?" which is immediately followed up with, "where are you originally from?" and then finished with, "where are your parents from?" When they hear Puerto Rico, there is an audible gasp and they proclaim: "I knew it, you don't sound like you're from here." I hate this so much.”
“At least once a week, I get underhanded comments about being illegal or point blank yelled at to go back to my country. I've got news: This is my country. I am third generation Puerto Rican and original Tex-Mex. What makes it worse is that my daughter looks like she's Irish, with her reddish hair and blue eyes, while I'm brown with brown eyes and black hair. I have been told a few times that she looks adopted or that I must be the nanny.”
The stories continue.
The Hidden Cost
In a time where our organizations and businesses are developing trauma-informed and psychologically safe policies and protocols, there must be a conviction that when asking someone where they are from is not creating cultural or psychological safety.
‘Where are you from? Is a question about a person’s identity, not connection.
‘Where are you from?’ comes with an assumption that the person is not from here.
‘Where are you from?’ opens deeper wounds of displacement through colonization and a shared global history of racial oppression. Belonging isn’t a feeling we manufacture. It’s one we create conditions for.
A growing body of research makes this concrete:
On the cost of not belonging: Organizations with high belonging have been shown to see 50% lower staff turnover, 75% fewer sick days, and measurably higher job performance. When team members feel excluded, they disengage. And it costs them personally. Belonging isn’t a perk. It’s a performance driver.
On the impact of “Where are you from?”: When a biographical question is asked out of context by a relative stranger with no established relationship, it functions as identity interrogation rather than connection, regardless of intent. The cumulative experience of repeated interrogation is a form of microaggression that chips away at someone’s sense of safety and belonging over time.
On accent bias: Accent discrimination extends well beyond foreign languages. It’s another invisible signal which invisibly separates, dislocates someone from the present time and place. Research from Queen Mary University of London found that even native speakers with regional or non-standard accents face hiring discrimination with 76% of employers in one study admitting to judging candidates on how they sound. Accent, like appearance, becomes a proxy for “belonging here.”’ Our brains fill gaps with stereotypes. And the result is a hidden filter on who gets to advance, perhaps not in a written policy, but in the actual outcome.
It is clear. There is an impact regardless of our intent. Again, curiosity doesn’t mean being selective. And if it does, then we need to ask why.
Why is the default for many of us who are of European descent or white to ask ‘Where are you from?’ when there are many ways to be curious and to get to know a person.
Okay Andrea. Then what do I do? How do I be inclusive and genuinely curious without making someone feel excluded? Even more so, how do I do it in a way that is compliant with human rights or my accountability as a leader?
Executive Insight
This is a real friction. A friction that many leaders face in diverse and professional spaces. An HR manager reached out to me directly after a workshop I gave. They asked Andrea, we have all these rules about not asking people questions about their religion, culture or beliefs. But I want to make people feel included, seen, like they belong. How do I do that with all these rules to follow?
The question is fair. A struggle that her and many others often ask.
And I’m thankful to say that there are many ways to be culturally respectful but also culturally safe, curious without breaking the law or someone’s sense of belonging.
“We are kind of lazy listeners, and we rely on stereotypes when we don’t have other things to go by – Devyani Sharma”
Sharma is right. Our brains take shortcuts. We fill in gaps with assumptions. And those assumptions we make about race, origin, accent or appearance, quietly decides who belongs and who doesn’t. We become the gatekeepers of belonging even when it isn't our intent.
This is what lives inside the invisible briefcase. And the question isn’t whether we carry one. We all do.
The question is whether we’re willing to open it.
What This Looks Like in Practice: Unpacking the Briefcase
Researcher Yabome Gilpin-Jackson draws a key distinction between identity interrogation — where questions feel like an attempt to classify or essentialize someone — and relational connection, where curiosity flows from genuine interest and mutual exchange. The difference isn’t always in the words. It’s in the briefcase you bring to the conversation.
DON’T
Ask “Where are you from?” as an opening question to someone who looks or sounds different from you. Even when well-intentioned, it signals that difference — not shared humanity — is what caught your attention.
Escalate with interrogation. If someone answers “I’m from Toronto” and you follow with “No, but where are you really from?” that’s no longer curiosity. That’s identity interrogation.
Apply curiosity selectively. If you’re only asking this question of people who don’t look like you, that’s not curiosity — that’s assumption. And assumption is not belonging.
Comment on or “compliment” someone’s accent in ways that mark it as foreign or unexpected. Saying “Wow, your English is so good!” or “I love your accent, where’s it from?” can communicate that the person’s way of speaking is notable — meaning, not the default. This applies even to regional accents within a country: research shows that people with non-standard accents face real barriers to hiring and advancement, often without anyone realizing it’s happening.
DO
Lead with what you notice about the person in front of you — not what makes them different. Ask about their work, what they’re excited about, what brought them to this event or room. Curiosity about a person is not the same as curiosity about their origin.
Let a person’s identity emerge in relationship, not interrogation. If you build a genuine connection with someone, you’ll learn where they’re from, what they value, and how they see the world, because relationship builds capacity for trust and deeper information. They need to have agency on what and when to tell you personal information
Practice micro-affirmations: small, intentional moments of recognition that signal someone belongs. Acknowledge contributions publicly. Make space for quieter voices. Ask for perspective. These aren’t grand gestures; they’re the daily deposits that build a culture of belonging.
Involve people in shaping their environment. Research consistently shows that employees feel a stronger sense of belonging when their expertise is drawn into decisions and not just their presence. Ask, include, and act on what you hear.
Be aware of your hidden bias. Name it. Doing this does not increase the micro-aggression but reduces the impact of exclusion. You don’t need a full DEI overhaul to start. You need the willingness to look at what’s in your briefcase and ask: is this helping people belong, or is it helping me stay comfortable?
My friend’s words are not just his but so many others who experience the impact of selective curiosity. And he didn’t accuse anyone. He rather invited me to see something I could not see on my own.
This is the work. Not shaming ourselves. Not performative inclusion.
This is the slow and honest practice of asking better questions, about others and ourselves.
The invisible briefcase doesn’t disappear when we ignore it. It just keeps doing its work without us. That is, if we let it.
Sources
What you're really asking when you ask 'where are you from'? - Bloomberg
What's Wrong with Asking 'Where Are You From?' - Harvard Business Review
Where are you from? Impact, Implications Alternatives - SLD Consulting
The regional accentism that secretly affects job prospects - BBC