By Nicole Dhanraj
Let’s talk about something that doesn’t get enough attention in leadership meetings but shows up often – and painfully – in real life: grief.
In our field, we’re no strangers to death. We see loss through clinical lenses every day. But when death comes for one of our own – when a tech loses a parent, a nurse loses a sibling, or a scheduler buries a grandparent – suddenly the system we’ve built for handling grief becomes painfully inadequate.
Most of us have worked in hospitals or departments where the bereavement leave policy reads “three days.” It’s standardized, predictable, and – on paper – generous compared to workplaces that offer none. But here’s the truth no one says out loud: three days is enough only if you grieve like an American.
And not just any American – but one whose grief is quiet, individual, and compartmentalized. For many of our colleagues from other cultures – especially those in African, Asian, Middle Eastern, Latin American, or Caribbean communities – grief doesn’t come and go in three days. It’s not private. It’s communal, sacred, and filled with responsibilities that are emotional, spiritual, and logistical.
A WINDOW INTO CULTURAL MOURNING
I’ll share a personal example. In Trinidad, where I have family roots, mourning isn’t a weekend affair. It starts the day someone dies, with a wake that gathers the community – songs, prayers, scripture, and shared silence. For Trinidad Hindu families, this begins a structured two-week period filled with spiritual and ritual responsibilities.
During those two weeks, families often read the Ramayan nightly, prepare food for small gatherings, and follow strict abstinence. No festive clothing. No meat. No chunkaying – no tempering food with hot oil and spices – in the house of mourning. That’s why you’ll see crix crackers, sandwiches, or aloo pies brought from outside. These aren’t just snack choices – they’re part of the grieving code.
And then comes the bhandaaraa – a final ceremony typically held on the thirteenth day after the funeral. It includes sacred shraadha and gita pujas. A special meal is prepared, first offered to the ancestors, and only then served to family and guests. And for male relatives – especially the eldest son – there’s the shaving ceremony, a deeply symbolic rite of purification and closure. Skipping it isn’t an option. Rushing through it can feel like a spiritual failure.
Now imagine trying to fit all of that into a 72-hour window before reporting back to a busy imaging department.
And that’s just one example. I’ve worked alongside team members who flew to Nigeria for a 10-day funeral, not counting travel. I’ve supported staff from Mexico navigating daily Catholic novenas. I’ve seen Indian colleagues carry out 13-day mourning rituals, returning to work emotionally raw, spiritually incomplete, and completely unsupported.
Across cultures, mourning carries depth – and time – that a standard leave policy simply doesn’t allow.
UNSPOKEN COST OF INFLEXIBLE POLICIES
So, what happens when someone’s grief doesn’t fit into three days?
They cobble together vacation time. They dip into sick leave. They take unpaid time. They lie and say they’re ill. Or worse – they show up to work, numb, distracted, and afraid of being labeled unreliable. And slowly, quietly, they begin to believe that their culture is an inconvenience. That their grief is excessive. That honoring their traditions is asking for too much.
That’s the part that stings the most.
Because if we say we care about creating a workplace where everyone feels they belong, then those values have to show up when our team members are at their most vulnerable. Fostering an inclusive environment isn’t just about celebrating holidays or hiring quotas. It’s about how we respond when people are hurting – when they’re broken and still trying to show up for their job.
WHAT ABOUT OPERATIONS?
This is the practical question every leader thinks about: “What happens to the work if someone is out longer than three days?”
It’s a fair concern – but it’s also one we already know how to solve. People take parental leave. They go out for surgery. They’re called for jury duty. They get COVID. We’ve learned to flex. We can do the same for grief.
Here’s how business continues – and even thrives – when we make space for culturally appropriate mourning:
1. Cross-Training and Coverage Planning
If your department only functions when everyone is present 100% of the time, that’s a systems problem, not a people problem. Cross-train your staff so others can step in during absences. Use “coverage buddies” or float roles. Build operational resilience – not just clinical output.
2. PRN and Float Pool Support
Most radiology departments have per diem or PRN staff. Use them. If you know someone’s going to be out for a longer mourning period, schedule extra support proactively – just like you would for a planned surgery or vacation.
3. Light-Duty or Remote Work Options
Some team members – especially in admin, scheduling, or education – can contribute remotely in the later stages of mourning. Let them ease back in without rushing back into the full emotional load of the clinical or operational floor.
4. Normalize Team-Based Workflows
Radiology already functions as a team. When someone is out, the team adapts. Yes, there may be temporary strain. But when people know they’ll be supported when it’s their turn to grieve, they’re more likely to step up for others when it counts.
5. Lead a Culture of Compassionate Resilience
Let’s move away from the fear of “setting a bad precedent” and toward building a department that expects life to happen – and is ready for it. The message we should be sending is: “We’re built for real life. We’ve got you. Take the time you need.”
WHAT WE CAN DO AS LEADERS
You don’t need to overhaul HR policy tomorrow. You can start by asking a few honest questions.
- Would this be enough for me if I had to bury my mother in another country?
- Would it be enough if I were the one responsible for hosting a 10-day ritual?
- Would I want someone to understand what this loss requires of me?
Start there. Ask your team what mourning looks like in their culture. Create room for different answers. If someone needs a few extra days, and the coverage is possible, say yes. Let them blend bereavement with PTO. Consider remote options when appropriate. These aren’t administrative headaches – they’re leadership opportunities.
And if you’re in a position to advocate for real change? Push for policies that acknowledge the full spectrum of grief. Suggest flexible tiers for bereavement leave – 5 days, 7 days, up to 10 days in special cases. Build in discretion for managers. Include cultural mourning in your leadership training modules.
HONORING THE LIVING BY HONORING THE DEAD
Ultimately, this isn’t just about time off. It’s about honor.
In many cultures, mourning isn’t just emotional – it’s spiritual. It’s how we say goodbye. It’s how we show respect. And skipping these rituals doesn’t just feel wrong – it feels like failing the people who raised us, loved us, and shaped us.
Let’s not make our employees choose between doing right by their family and doing right by their employer. That’s a choice no one should have to make.
As radiology leaders, we set the tone. We shape the culture. We don’t just manage schedules – we manage the emotional ecosystems of our departments. When we make space for grief, when we support mourning in all its cultural forms, we don’t just build equity – we build trust. Loyalty. Humanity.
Let’s be the kind of leaders who see grief not as a policy violation, but as a sacred moment to say: “You belong here. We see you. We’ll hold space while you hold your loss.”
