At the Seeds Canada conference, a powerful question emerged: what if the secret to fixing diversity in the workplace isn’t another policy, but thinking more like a 10-year-old at recess?
Ever notice how kids just get it?
They don’t need a memo from HR or a PowerPoint presentation on diversity and inclusion (D&I). They see someone sitting alone at lunch and go sit with them. They hear an accent and get curious — not judgmental. They don’t care what box you check; they care if you’re kind, funny, or good at dodgeball.
Meanwhile, over in the grown-up world, we’re still struggling to agree on whether inclusion is a checkbox or a calling. And in a recent panel discussion at the Seeds Canada conference in Quebec City — during the D&I session — it was clear: the word cloud didn’t lie.
Words like “complacent,” “ownership,” and “distracting” all floated to the top. Translation? Leaders are trying — but not always succeeding.
“Organizations are pulling back on their D&I commitments,” said Janine Pajot, VP of Human Resources at Bayer Canada. “But the ones moving forward know it’s not about checking boxes. It’s about listening, lifting each other up, and understanding that the best talent doesn’t come from just one place.”
And she’s right. The best talent might show up wearing a hijab, or speaking French with an English accent, or asking for a quiet space at work because they have sensory processing issues. Real leadership isn’t about saying the right things on stage — it’s about creating space for everyone at the table, even if that table looks more like a messy craft project than a corporate boardroom.
Adults, Please Stop Judging
Here’s where things get edgy: adults are flailing. Pajot didn’t mince words: “We’re so quick to label. So quick to judge.”
Kids, on the other hand, aren’t perfect — ask any parent who’s been roasted by their nine-year-old — but they’re learning. Philippe Charlebois, CEO of Semican, talked about how his French-speaking staff welcomed three workers from Guatemala and took them ice skating.
“It was cold as heck,” he joked, “but we just wanted to include them.” Inclusion doesn’t need a mission statement — sometimes it needs skates, mittens, and some camaraderie.
Language Lessons from the Playground
In a refreshingly honest moment, Charlebois brought up Quebec’s language politics. In a province that often prides itself on protecting the French language, inclusion can be tricky. But there are ways.
“I was talking to a sales manager in Quebec who told me something surprising — he holds team meetings in French, even though one of his employees only speaks English. Usually, it’s the other way around: if there’s one English speaker, everyone switches to English. But he flipped it,” Charlebois said.
“He said, ‘If you miss something, just text me and I’ll explain — but we’re keeping the meeting in French.’ And you know what? It worked. That English-speaking team member is now following along just fine. It’s a rare move, but it shows respect for the majority while still supporting the individual — and that’s what inclusion looks like in action.”
Pajot shared her own story of living in Montreal and fumbling her way through French. “I wasn’t great at it,” she said with a laugh, “but I tried. Out of respect.”
That’s the real point here. Trying. Respecting. Not because you’ve been told to — but because you want to.
Kids Laugh, But Then They Learn
Both panelists agreed: children are watching us. Charlebois noted how some employees’ kids laugh at their parents’ English — just harmless teasing — but it highlights something powerful: kids notice. And then they adapt. They try. They grow.
Pajot’s boys? She observed something hopeful: post-COVID, kids seem to be leaning into inclusion. It’s the adults who’ve become more judgmental, more impatient, more performative. And that’s a problem.
Ditch the Buzzwords. Just Be a Decent Human.
Forget “synergy.” Forget “leveraging D&I.” If your company’s D&I plan doesn’t include listening, kindness, and a good old-fashioned potluck — then maybe it’s time to go back to the basics.
At Bayer, they launched anonymous culture surveys. They created employee resource groups for women, Black and Indigenous staff, LGBTQ+ employees, and those with visible or invisible disabilities. “These groups run on passion,” said Pajot. “They’re not performative. They’re real, and they matter.”
Let’s face it: if 10-year-olds ran our HR departments, we might be better off.
They wouldn’t spend six months crafting a strategic D&I roadmap. They’d just make sure everyone got a turn at kickball, no matter their shoes, skin tone, or lunchbox brand.
So, to all the grown-ups reading this: maybe inclusion isn’t about policies. Maybe it’s about people.
And maybe the people we should start listening to… are still in gym class.
Got a kid who’s taught you something about inclusion lately? Share your story with us at mzienkiewicz@seedworldgroup.com — because sometimes, the smallest voices say the biggest things.
