The song that made everyone walk out (and what it taught me about innovation)

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Click to watch (14:59) or scroll down to read on…

Hey there, innovation champions!
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Last week at a conference in DC, I heard a story that stopped me in my tracks. It was one of those moments that makes you realize how much you don't know about the world around you.
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A delegate from Yellowstone was sharing an experience from a community gathering back home. Let me paint the picture she described for me.
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Picture this gorgeous gathering hall, filled with people from across the region. The energy is high, everyone's connecting, and then someone decides to cap off the event with what seemed like the perfect unifying moment—a rousing rendition of "This Land Is Your Land."
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The whole crowd joined in. Voices rising together, that familiar melody filling the space. It felt... inspiring. Patriotic. Unifying.
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But then something happened that made this delegate's stomach drop.
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One by one, the Indigenous folks in the crowd started getting up and walking out.
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At first, she thought maybe it was coincidence. Maybe they had places to be. But as more people left—all Indigenous folks—it became clear this wasn't about logistics.
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As she shared this story with me, I could see how much it had affected her. And honestly? I've been thinking about it ever since.
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When "Unity" Excludes

Here's what I learned: While those lyrics—"this land is your land, this land is my land"—might sound like a beautiful vision of collective ownership to most of us, they tell a completely different story to Indigenous communities.
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For people whose ancestors had this land taken by force, whose families were subjected to broken treaties and forced removals like the Trail of Tears, whose sacred sites are still being exploited for resource extraction—hearing "this land was made for you and me" doesn't feel unifying.
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It feels like erasure.
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The song assumes what historians call "terra nullius"—the idea that this was empty land, nobody's land, just waiting to be claimed. It operates within a settler-colonial framework that treats the current political structure as the starting point, ignoring the sovereignty that existed here for thousands of years.
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Now, I want to be clear—Woody Guthrie wrote this song as a protest against inequality. It was actually his response to "God Bless America," and he was trying to challenge the status quo. His intentions were good.
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But impact matters more than intent, doesn't it?
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The Innovation Parallel

As I listened to this story, I couldn't help thinking about how this shows up in innovation. How often do we create solutions, strategies, or even company cultures that feel inclusive to us, but completely miss the mark for others?
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How often do we build our "This land is your land" moments without realizing we're creating "terra nullius" in our organizations?
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This connects directly to something I see all the time in my work with tech companies. Teams will spend months developing what they think is a brilliant innovation, only to discover it completely misses the needs of their actual users. Or worse—it actively excludes entire communities they never considered.
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The Create the Impossible™ Framework Lens

This is where my Create the Impossible™ framework becomes crucial—but with a twist I want to explore today.
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Usually, when I talk about Play Hard, I focus on embracing curiosity and joy in our creative process. But today I want to add another layer: playing hard means being curious about perspectives that aren't like yours. It means asking questions that might be uncomfortable.
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At that gathering, real play hard would have meant someone asking: "Wait—how might this song land with everyone in the room?" before launching into it.
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Make Crap typically means giving ourselves permission to create imperfect first drafts. But in the context of inclusion, it means acknowledging that our first attempts at inclusive innovation will probably be clunky or incomplete—and that's okay. The key is starting somewhere and being willing to iterate.
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If the organizers at that community gathering had approached the closing moment with a "make crap" mindset, they might have said, "Let's try this—and if it doesn't land well, we'll learn and do better next time."
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Learn Fast becomes about rapid iteration based on feedback from diverse voices. Not just learning from people who look and think like us, but actively seeking out perspectives that challenge our assumptions.
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The Indigenous folks walking out? That's feedback. That's data. That's an opportunity to learn fast if we're paying attention.
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Beyond Good Intentions

Here's what I find fascinating about the situation the Yellowstone delegate described: the room was full of good people with good intentions. Everyone wanted unity. Everyone wanted to create a positive experience.
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But good intentions without diverse perspectives often create innovations that exclude the very people we think we're helping.
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I see this pattern everywhere in tech. Teams of brilliant people who all come from similar backgrounds, working with the best of intentions, creating products that work beautifully for people like them—and completely miss the mark for everyone else.
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The solution isn't to feel guilty about this. The solution is to build systems that actively bring different perspectives into our innovation process from the very beginning.
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Three Questions for Inclusive Innovation

So here are three questions I now ask myself—and encourage my clients to ask—throughout any innovation process:
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1. Who isn't in the room? Before we start singing "This Land Is Your Land," who are we not hearing from? Whose voices aren't represented in our planning, our brainstorming, our decision-making?

2. What assumptions are we making? What are we treating as universal truths that might actually be specific to our particular experience? What "terra nullius" moments might we be creating?

3. How might this land differently? For every innovation, every strategy, every team gathering—how might this be received by people who don't share our background, our context, our story?
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The Ripple Effect

Here's what I've learned in my work: when you start building inclusion into your innovation process, something magical happens. You don't just create better products for underrepresented communities—you create better products for everyone.
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The curb cut effect is a perfect example. Curb cuts were originally designed for wheelchair accessibility. But they ended up helping parents with strollers, delivery workers with dollies, travelers with suitcases, and basically anyone who's ever walked down a sidewalk.
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When we innovate with diverse perspectives from the start, we don't just expand our market—we uncover possibilities we never would have imagined.
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Your Challenge This Week

So here's my challenge for you this week: Look at whatever innovation challenge you're currently working on and ask yourself those three questions.
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Who isn't in the room? What assumptions are you making? How might this land differently for different communities?
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Then—and this is the crucial part—actually seek out those missing perspectives. Don't just imagine what they might say. Find ways to include those voices in your process.
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If you're working on a new product feature, talk to users who don't look like your typical customer. If you're planning a team initiative, check in with the people who usually stay quiet in meetings. If you're designing a company policy, consider how it might affect someone whose life circumstances are different from yours.
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Remember, creating the impossible isn't just about pushing the boundaries of what we think is technically feasible. Sometimes it's about pushing the boundaries of who we think our innovations are for.
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The Path Forward

I'll be honest—I can't unlearn what I learned from that delegate's story. And I'm grateful for that. Because now I have a lens I didn't have before. A way of seeing that makes me a better innovation strategist, a better colleague, and hopefully, a better human.
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That moment of discomfort when she described watching those delegates walk out? That's where growth lives. That's where real innovation begins—when we're willing to sit with the discomfort of realizing our good intentions might not be enough.
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The most powerful innovations happen when we embrace diverse perspectives not as a nice-to-have, but as the secret ingredient that transforms good ideas into breakthroughs that actually serve the world.
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Stay curious, stay playful, and keep creating the impossible—for everyone.

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​I'd love to hear from you: What's one assumption about your current innovation process that you're now questioning? Hit reply to let me know!
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Senior Leaders: Ready to unlock your team's full innovation potential through inclusive practices? Book a complimentary Innovation Strategy Session and let's explore how diverse perspectives can transform your organization's approach to creativity and problem-solving.

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One of the features of my doodles that I enjoy most is whimsy. Especially in these days of extreme uncertainty and volatility, bringing whimsy and delight to a few moments of my day calms my nervous system.
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There’s something profound about how a simple squiggly line can transform into a dancing elephant, or how a coffee stain becomes the perfect cloud for a tiny village. These moments of creative play aren’t just pleasant diversions—they’re essential reset buttons for our overwhelmed minds.
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When we allow ourselves to be whimsical, we’re actually training our brains to think differently. We’re practicing the art of seeing possibilities where others see problems. We’re building our capacity for innovation by embracing the unexpected and finding joy in the process of creation.
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In my work with leaders and teams, I’ve discovered that the most breakthrough innovations often emerge from these same qualities: curiosity, playfulness, and the willingness to explore without attachment to outcome. The doodle that starts as nothing and becomes something magical mirrors the innovation journey perfectly.
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So today, I invite you to find your own moment of whimsy. Draw a silly face on your coffee cup. Turn a boring meeting note into a tiny adventure. Let your pen wander without purpose for just five minutes.
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Your nervous system will thank you. Your creativity will flourish. And who knows? That moment of play might just spark your next big idea.
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Ready to bring more innovation and creative thinking into your work?

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👉 Book an Innovation Strategy Session and let’s explore how whimsy and strategic thinking can transform your approach to challenges.

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That's it for this week!
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Creatively yours,
Melissa

​P.S. When you’re ready to build a culture of thriving innovation, so your team can Create the Impossible™, here are three ways I can help:

1) Download my FREE Innovation Culture Assessment to evaluate where your team stands

2) Download the first 50 pages of my book, The Creative Sandbox Way™, to reconnect with your creativity

3) Click here to schedule a complimentary Innovation Strategy Session

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