Tribes.
It’s been on my mind for days. Not in the primitive sense of war paint and bonfires, but in the quiet, modern ache for belonging.
At Winvision, I once had that feeling. A tribe of its own; bright, bold, buzzing with energy. It was, truthfully, one of the best professional times of my life. Better, even, than my years orbiting Microsoft’s global machine. Winvision had warmth. Color. Chaos that somehow worked. And yes, colors. Those eternal corporate tribes: red, blue, yellow, green. The DISC palette of our personalities.
The reds, our loud captains; blues, our methodical minds; yellows, our dreamers; greens, our peacemakers. Somewhere in that wheel, I was always… in between. Maybe that’s my curse and my gift: never a full-blooded member of any one color. A centrist in politics, a hybrid in temperament.
The Clash of Cultures
When Winvision merged with Previder, the colors collided. What once felt yellow — creative, slightly rebellious — met the analytic, quite technical blue. Two tribes with different dialects of doing. I remember meetings that went from laughter to tears, full of emotion but thin on action. Everyone agreed on the need for change, yet no one owned the next step. That’s when I first named the feeling:
Corporate loneliness
You can sit in a full room, surrounded by people in branded polos, and still feel utterly alone. But there were moments of magic, too. I watched as hardcore developers began to understand adoption and soft skills. Not because someone told them to, but because they believed in the connection. The tribes merged, not by decree, but by shared purpose. That, I think, is what belonging really means:
Believing in something together.
Of Bikers, Blood, and Belonging
The spark for all this came when I saw two bikers greet each other on the highway, just the lift of a finger. That tiny gesture carried an entire code: I see you. I know your road. You’re one of us.
We all crave that moment — to be seen. For some, it’s football teams or fandoms. For others, political parties or hometowns. When a colleague said he was from The Hague, I felt it instantly: a local pulse. Small as it seems, it mattered. The Hague is my city, my hidden anchor.
But not all tribes are benign. Some are built from skin and fear. My wife recently showed me a video about a young Angolan mother, still recovering from a C-section, being manhandled by Dutch police after her husband called for help. The scene broke me. And it echoed her own story, years before we met. I thought:
What if AI could flip this footage?
Same faces, reversed colors, just to show the world its bias in mirrored light. Maybe that, too, is a use for technology: to awaken empathy.
The Human Tribe
Still, I want to close on hope. Because amid all this division — political, racial, ideological — I sense something deeper connecting us. Even the far left and far right, if you trace them far enough, nearly meet in their curve. Like two ends of a horseshoe bending back toward the same point. Different grievances, same longing: to be seen, safe, significant.
Maybe that’s why I sometimes dream of starting a new tribe. Not political. Not corporate. Just human. Because in the end, we’re all part of the same story: the parent worrying about their child, the worker trying to be heard, the soul wanting to belong. Rich or poor, black or white, introvert or extrovert — we share the same fragile hope: love, health, connection.
So yes, find your tribe but remember your kind. Because even beneath the colors and causes, we all carry the same spark: the quiet, divine ember that reminds us:
We were never meant to stand apart.
What's on your mind?