REAL Blog
Why ‘Not Being Political’ Kills Inclusion: Lessons from Women’s Hockey 2026
- Adina Oneill
In the photo for this post, I’m wearing one of my favorite shirts. It says, “as strong as the woman next to me.” As we move through Women’s History Month, those words feel heavier than usual. They are a reminder that building belonging isn’t just about individual success; it’s about the collective strength we find when we refuse to let the person next to us be sidelined.
Lately, I’ve noticed a trend: people prefacing their thoughts with “I don’t want to make this political.” It’s a phrase used as a shield, but what are we actually hiding from?
In its simplest form, being ‘political’ is just how we decide who belongs, who gets a seat at the table, and whose voices we actually value when it counts. But in our current climate, we’ve been conditioned to believe that avoiding politics is the only way to maintain peace. The reality? For marginalized groups – people of color, ethnic and religious minorities, the LGBTQIA+ community, people with disabilities, women, immigrants – our very existence is often treated as a “public affair.” When we disassociate from “political” discussions, we are often just choosing to stay silent while others’ rights are in jeopardy.
Inclusion cannot exist in a vacuum of silence.
When Inclusion Becomes an Afterthought
We saw this play out following the 2026 Winter Olympics. Both the US Men’s and Women’s Hockey teams brought home gold in 2-1 overtime thrillers. It was a massive moment for American sports. But the “public affairs” that followed, specifically the invitation to the White House, revealed exactly why “politics” and “belonging” are inseparable.
The Women’s team has medaled in every single Olympics since the sport was introduced in 1998. Their record isn’t just impressive; it’s dominant. Yet, they were invited to the White House as an afterthought while the President was already celebrating the men.
They declined the invitation. When captain Hilary Knight was questioned, she didn’t soften her reply. She called the President’s behavior “distasteful and unfortunate,” stating clearly that “women should be championed for their amazing feats.”
Then she hit on the core of why so many of us are exhausted:
“Now I have to… sit in front of you and explain someone else’s behavior. It’s not my responsibility.”
Hilary Knight refused to remain silent, and she refused to carry the emotional weight of someone else’s disrespect. I am inspired by that courage. On the surface, an invitation to the White House looks like “inclusion.” But when the invitation is delivered with a joke about what women have been fighting against for centuries, it feels more like an insult.
The Secret Ingredient of Belonging
I have never been one to shy away from an uncomfortable conversation. The work I do as an inclusion champion is delicate. It requires me to hold space for unique experiences while being direct about the truth.
Lately, “belonging” has been misunderstood as a free pass to avoid accountability for bad behavior. But real belonging requires boundaries. It requires us to be firm yet respectful. Sometimes I miss the mark, but I am always willing to own my behavior, listen, and grow. Because if I want to be “as strong as the woman next to me,” I have to be willing to stand in the gap with her.
What This Scenario Teaches Us About Inclusion
Hilary Knight’s “No” is a masterclass in boundary-setting. It reminds us that inclusion is a verb, not a guest list. Based on this, here is what I know to be true about the work of belonging:
- Inclusion isn’t a marketing tactic. It doesn’t happen when you invite people into spaces where they are disrespected just because it makes you look good or checks a box.
- Inclusion is taking action to create spaces that are actually safe and judgment-free.
- Inclusion isn’t just “being yourself.” It doesn’t happen by listening to why someone feels “othered” and then telling them to just “hang in there.”
- Inclusion is identifying, challenging, and speaking out against systemic barriers like “afterthought” invitations and “distasteful” jokes until they are gone.
- Inclusion isn’t a spectator sport. It doesn’t mean acknowledging judgmental behavior and quietly watching it continue from the sidelines.
- Inclusion is respecting the boundary lines that create safety, even when that means having a very uncomfortable conversation.
Inclusion is not quiet. Inclusion is not comfortable. It is a thoughtful, courageous choice to stand as strong as the woman next to you, especially when the world is trying to make her feel like an afterthought.
Are you ready to move from “quiet inclusion” to active belonging?
If you want to learn more about how we’re doing this work at Team BReal, or if you want to bring these conversations to your own organization:
Fill out the contact form or book a connection call for more info on how we can work together.
Join the Conversation
The work of inclusion is never done in a vacuum. I’d love to hear your thoughts:
- Where are you staying quiet? Is there a situation where you’ve used the “not being political” to protect yourself or avoid a necessary, uncomfortable conversation?
- Being the “Woman Next to You”: What is one way you can “stand in the gap” for a colleague or friend this week to ensure they aren’t being sidelined?
Drop a comment below and let’s figure it out. The only way we grow is by listening and learning together.
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