Recognizing the Current

"You're not responsible for the current. But once you see it, you're responsible for how you swim."

I heard that at the Hidden Brain tour in Toronto, and it's been rattling around in my head ever since.

Shankar Vedantam told a story about learning to swim as an adult. He used to fear water - deep, paralyzing fear. Most swim instructors dismissed it with some version of "You'll be fine. Just relax."

But one YMCA teacher said something different: "Of course you're scared. It's deep water. And you don't know how to swim."

No shame. No dismissal. Just truth.

So he practiced. Eventually, he went snorkeling in the ocean. And it felt effortless, like he'd become a fish. He moved through the water with ease, everything flowing naturally.

Later, he tried returning to shore. Against the current.

Same swimmer. Same water. Same skills.

But he struggled. Hard.

It wasn't his ability that had changed. It was the invisible force working against him.

It wasn't skill. It was the current.

Something about that metaphor clicked for me in a way I wasn't expecting.

I got my first real job because my stepfather advocated for me. He knew someone. Made a call. Got me in the door.

For years, I felt like an imposter. I was convinced that every opportunity I received came because of that connection, not because I'd earned it. Every promotion, every project, every bit of recognition felt suspect. Like I was cheating a system everyone else was navigating fairly.

Then one day, I noticed something.

Other colleagues had networks too. Alumni ties. Family friends. Mentors who opened doors. People who vouched for them, made introductions, gave them advice that changed the trajectory of their careers.

The difference? Their paths felt "normal." Mine felt like cheating.

And that's when I understood: Currents exist everywhere. Some push us forward. Others pull us back. We rarely see them until we're swimming against them.

The colleagues who had alumni networks didn't think of it as an advantage. It was just how things worked. The people whose parents understood corporate culture, who grew up around professional language and expectations, who knew how to navigate office politics without being taught - they didn't see that as a current pushing them forward. It was just... swimming.

But for people without those networks? Without that cultural fluency? Without someone making a call on their behalf? The water feels different. The effort required is different. And when they struggle, it's easy to assume it's because they're not trying hard enough.

We move through systems and call it effort. We see others struggle and call it inability. We miss the invisible forces shaping every outcome.

Unconscious bias works the same way.

It's not that people are intentionally trying to make things harder for others. It's that we're all swimming in currents we can't see and we assume everyone else is experiencing the same water we are.

We design systems based on our own experience. We set expectations that feel reasonable to us. We reward behaviors that come naturally to people like us. And then we're baffled when others don't just... keep up.

But the current was never the same for everyone.

Vedantam made another point that stuck with me. He's nearsighted - obviously not his fault. But if he chose to drive without his glasses and hurt someone, he'd be responsible for that.

That's the line between unawareness and accountability.

You're not responsible for the current. You didn't create the systems. You didn't design the water.

But once you see it, once you understand that not everyone is swimming in the same conditions, you're responsible for how you respond.

Do you keep swimming as if the current doesn't exist? Do you assume everyone who's struggling just isn't trying hard enough?

Or do you start asking different questions?

Who's swimming against the current here? What invisible forces are shaping this outcome? What am I not seeing because the water has always moved in my desired direction?

Inclusion isn't about blame or shame. It's not about feeling guilty for the advantages you've had, or the doors that opened for you.

It's about seeing the current. And then choosing how to swim.

It's about recognizing that effort isn't always visible. That struggle doesn't always mean inability. That someone working twice as hard and moving half as fast might not be the problem. The current might be.

And once you see that, you can't unsee it.

I'm still learning what it means to live with that awareness. I still catch myself assuming my experience is universal. I still miss currents I should be seeing.

But I'm asking different questions now. I'm noticing when things feel easy for me and hard for someone else - and instead of assuming they're doing something wrong, I'm asking: What current am I not seeing?

Because the truth is, we're all swimming. But we're not all swimming in the same water.

And the only way we build something better is by naming the currents out loud. By making the invisible visible. By refusing to pretend the water is the same for everyone just because it feels that way to us.

So here's what I'm wondering: What currents have you discovered… ones you didn't see until you were swimming against them, or ones you didn't realize were pushing you forward?

And once you saw them, what changed?