In a world where everything seems divided into boxes, shades, and factions, standing on your own, as a non-partisan, feels like an act of defiance. Today, we live in an era where the expectation is that you should color yourself, label yourself, and declare your loyalty to a side. People ask where you stand – not because they care about your thought process – but because they want to know where to position you in their mental framework.
Are you red, blue, left, right, or somewhere in between? This forced compartmentalization has become the norm, and for someone like me, it’s exhausting. I refuse to be color coded. I refuse to dilute my views into a neat category for someone else’s comfort. Instead, I choose to speak up – not for any one ideology, but for the issues themselves.
Being non-partisan doesn’t mean being neutral or apathetic. In fact, it means quite the opposite. It’s about caring deeply enough to look beyond the noise of ideological bickering to find real solutions. It’s about recognizing that the complexity of human experience cannot be reduced to slogans or talking points. And it’s about having the courage to speak from a place of genuine analysis, even when that makes others uncomfortable.
I’ve often found myself at odds with those who need to categorize me, especially in today’s political climate, where tribalism reigns supreme. Whether the issue is political, religious, economic, or social, my stance isn’t driven by loyalty to a faction. It’s driven by an understanding of the nuances at play. Yet, this approach is often met with suspicion. It’s as if refusing to align with a party or ideology is somehow viewed as indecision or weakness. But here’s the reality: it takes far more strength to stand in the middle of the battlefield and fight for the truth than it does to take cover behind the safety of a flag or party line.
My experiences – raised in India, studying in Chicago, living in Canada – have shaped my worldview in ways that transcend any single political ideology. They’ve taught me that every context demands its own analysis. I’ve seen how systems that work in one place fail in another. I’ve witnessed how decisions that benefit one group can devastate another. This exposure to varying perspectives has solidified my belief that life is too complex to be reduced to a binary.
In leadership, this flexibility is essential. You cannot afford to be dogmatic when you’re leading people with diverse backgrounds, ideas, and ambitions. You have to meet them where they are. You have to make invisible factors visible, and understand that the most important leadership decision is the one that works for the specific context, not the one that aligns with an abstract ideal. Whether guiding international students toward their future or coaching professionals through career challenges, I stress the importance of navigating complexity with intentionality and humility.
Intentionality is about acting with purpose – choosing the right path based on what is relevant today, not what was convenient yesterday. Humility is about acknowledging that your perspective is just one among many and that it may need to evolve.
Unfortunately, in public discourse, this flexibility and humility are often perceived as inconsistency or lack of principle. But in reality, it’s the most principled approach you can take – refusing to bend to the rigidities of ideological thinking, refusing to be a pawn in someone else’s narrative. I encourage the students and professionals I mentor to do the same. To think critically, to challenge assumptions, and to recognize that real leadership comes from understanding the world as it is, not as you wish it to be.
This stance doesn’t come without its challenges. As a non-partisan, I often find myself alone in conversations where people expect me to take a side. But I’m not here to satisfy anyone’s desire for tribal alignment. I’m here to address the issues at hand. When I see hypocrisy in the way housing policies are managed, I’ll call it out – regardless of which side of the political spectrum it comes from. When I see flaws in leadership, I’ll speak to those flaws – not because I’m trying to push an agenda, but because I believe in the importance of facing facts, even uncomfortable ones.
This approach might be frustrating for those who want easy answers. It can be lonely to stand in this middle ground. But it’s also liberating. Because when you refuse to be color coded, you free yourself from the constraints of other people’s expectations. You allow yourself to think deeply, to adapt, and to arrive at conclusions based on the reality of the situation – not based on what you are supposed to think.
I’ve always believed that actions have consequences. In leadership, in business, and in life, what we do reverberates far beyond our immediate circles. Planting trees today may create a legacy of care and comfort, but landmines buried beneath those same roots can cause untold damage. The challenge is to recognize when we’re planting trees and when we’re laying traps for ourselves and others. This is why I advocate for realism – confronting the truth of each situation, even when it’s hard, even when it doesn’t fit neatly into a political narrative.
So no, I won’t be color coded.
I won’t let myself be boxed into a convenient label for the sake of others’ clarity. My focus remains on the issues themselves – on understanding the complexity, on navigating the gray areas, and on speaking up for what is real. And while that may make it harder for others to define me, I’m okay with that. Because at the end of the day, it’s not about where I fit on the political spectrum.
It’s about the impact I can make by speaking the truth – even when that truth doesn’t have a political home.