Much of the success of the UAE has been forged on the back of a culturally diverse workforce who, for the most part, have played a positive role in our development. But for all the benefits diversity brings, it is not without its issues. Whenever one discusses the cultural challenges within the UAE’s workforce, for instance, that diversity is narrowed down to two groups: locals and expats.
One of the biggest surprises I have found at business school in the US has been on the laserlike focus on the importance of company culture. Whatever topic we study, be it corporate strategy or accounting, the subject of company culture always finds its way into the conversation – and rightfully so.
In the case of the UAE I feel that we face a much greater challenge than many other nations over the issue of workplace attire.
In many countries, people show up for work dressed pretty much the same way. If you work at an international bank, you’d expect to wear a suit and tie. Other companies, especially on the west coast of America, work in shirts and casual trousers, and if you are in the tech world you are probably looking at going to the office in a T-shirt and flip-flops.
However, as we all know, when you work in the UAE you will start to see flocks of white kanduras and black abayas walking into offices alongside their western-dressed counterparts. As an Emirati, I love being able to wear my kandura to work. It is super-comfortable, it is easier to pick out what I want to wear in the morning and, most importantly, it makes me proud to represent my country day in and day out with international clients and partners.
However, it does come with its hardships and moments of awkwardness, such as when you are the only kandura-wearing person in a meeting and people don’t exactly know how to engage with you. Or you find yourself being pushed to make a presentation just because the company you work for feels it needs an Emirati to show off its services. Then there’s the classic “your English is excellent” statement, which implies that being able to communicate appropriately is an accomplishment in and of itself.
These are some of the many examples I feel that are attributed to what we wear, rather than who we are.
What usually happens is the act of wearing our national dress brings with it many assumptions made by our international counterparts. We have already been analysed from head to toe before we even get a chance to speak. We have already been branded as people who want shorter working hours and more pay, before we have been able to say otherwise.
As people, few of us ever look past uniforms. National dress is no exception to that rule. Take a police officer, for instance. Whenever you see one walking the streets, you don’t see the father, mother, sports enthusiast or artist that person may be, all you see is an official going about their duties.
Many Emiratis, including myself, will tell you that if you try meeting an international counterpart outside the workplace, and you show up in western clothes, you will quickly get the “sorry I didn’t recognise you without your local stuff on” comment.
Now, I am not trying to tar everyone with the same brush here. There are a lot of great people from all over the world who reside in the UAE and who make an incredible effort to get to know Emiratis and engage deeply in our culture.
I wholeheartedly applaud them and feel they provide a great example of how to break down the barriers that exist within our workplaces and society.
As for a solution to this problem, I doubt that Emiratis are going to start showing up for work in suits any time soon, although I do believe this would help.
Nor do I think our international counterparts will start coming to work in kanduras and abayas – although I think that would be great and probably quite humorous – but I am simply stating where I feel one of society’s roadblocks lies.
A memorable quote from the TV series The Newsroom stated: “The first step in solving any problem is recognising there is one.” So hopefully after reading this we can look past what each of us wear, and truly recognise each other for who we are – the fathers, the mothers, the sports enthusiasts, or the artists.
Khalid Al Ameri is an MBA candidate at the Stanford Graduate School of Business
On Twitter: @KhalidAlAmeri
