At base, Churn is a practical book. It focuses less on the nature or politics of identity and more on what it takes to build trust between people of different identities— even oppositional identities— in the real-life settings of our lives. It spotlights a dimension of human relations— trust-building— that may be even more powerful than we thought.

Things like: How are people like me seen and treated here? Will I be supported here? Will it be a fair place for people like me? Diversity puts us in a state of mind in which identity is top of mind. Stressful emotions can arise. Thoughts scramble as we work to decipher and make meaning. To capture the anxious, ruminative nature of this state, my term for it is “churn,” a term whose utility I suspect will increase as the diversity of our life settings increases.

3. Churn Has an Antidote

When we trust, we accept. When we distrust, we resist. We look for alternative meanings and scenarios. And if the situation is important, we do this a lot; we churn.

Information. Social capital. Timely intervention and support. A structure outlining clear expectations. These reduce the ambiguity that can become toxic by expanding churn into mistrust and alienation. They foster success for everyone. But they especially help those under stereotype-driven suspicion of not belonging. They reduce performance gaps between these and many other groups. They foster a successful form of diversity, even when they don’t directly address diversity at all. For example, in the years since the GSU student success programs reached maturity, GSU has reliably produced more African American graduates than any other college or university in the nation.

Welcoming. When we enter a setting that is important to us— a university, a recreational area, a diversity workshop, a workplace— a churn-causing question hangs in the air: How will my identity— who I am— affect my experience here? To build trust in diverse settings, it’s important to give people a welcoming experience that addresses that question.