Kamana means “a wish.”
My grandfather named me.
He said I was his wish come true. (No pressure.)
I grew up in Kathmandu, Nepal. Found my way into American corporate leadership as an immigrant, and now I spend my days teaching leaders something I have believed since I was six years old: inclusion was never meant to be one person’s job. It was always meant to be everyone’s.
“The only solutions that sustain themselves are the ones that multiply on their own.”
On paper:
I’m the Founder and Chief Multiplication Officer of Inclusion Multipliers™, where I help organizations develop leaders who build more inclusive leaders. One becomes five. Five become twenty-five. Twenty-five become a culture.
I hold a Master of Public Health and the Certified Advanced Diversity Professional™ (CCDP™) credential, and I’ve spent more than fourteen years leading inclusion work inside healthcare, nonprofits, and corporate America. Before any of that, I founded Arizona’s first refugee-led medical interpreter enterprise. I serve on the board of the Diversity Leadership Alliance and also Co-Chair their Education Committee, served on the board of WICT Network Southwest, and received WICT’s 2024 Advocate for DE&I Award. I write The Shift, a bi-weekly newsletter for leaders navigating inclusion in the enforcement era.
Off paper:
I’m a hiker, a non-fiction reader, a mom, and the slightly outnumbered owner of a maltipoo named Jonas, who holds the title of Chief Wellness Officer and has never once missed a day of work.
I believe chai (or chia as we call in Nepal) fixes most things and a good question fixes the rest. I still miss the kind of friendship you can only make when you’re young — moving across oceans will do that to you. And I have never won an argument with Jonas, mostly because he refuses to participate.
It started with a piece of chalk.
The kids in my neighborhood in Kathmandu didn’t go to school. Their parents ran the shops nearby, and school was never an option for them.
So I asked my dad to buy me chalk.
We turned our front gate into a blackboard, and every day after school I taught the neighborhood kids what I had learned that day in school. I was six. By all accounts, I was a very strict teacher.
I didn’t have the words for it then. But standing at that gate, I already believed the thing I’ve built my entire career on:
Learning belongs to everyone. And you don’t need a title, a budget, or anyone’s permission to widen the circle. You need chalk.
Thirty-something years later, I’ve traded the gate for boardrooms and the chalk for a framework. The belief hasn’t changed.
my story in pictures
〰️
my story in pictures 〰️
let’s talk about what’s possible
Thirty minutes. Free. No pitch.
We’ll look at where your inclusion strategy stands and what multiplication could look like inside your organization.
If this framework isn’t the right fit, I’ll tell you that too.