How to Make Room for Others
How can we reimagine our practices, systems, and norms to invite everyone to participate and contribute?
Imagine you are going to play a new card game with friends—maybe something like Uno or Cards Against Humanity if you're feeling frisky. You and your friends have never played this game before. So what's the first thing you do?
You read the instructions. Then you start learning how to play the game—what's allowed, how the game proceeds, how points are scored, and what constitutes winning. Once you've learned the rules in theory, you probably play some practice rounds to put them to work.
Now that everyone understands the rules and how to play, you can finally get down to playing a "real game."
What if meetings worked that way?
What if we acknowledged that we'd never had this particular meeting before? This meeting with this agenda, this objective, this group of people, in this place, at this time—it's never happened before.
What if the beginning of the meeting was focused on making sure everyone knew how to participate? What if it allowed people to express their needs and request accommodation so that they could participate fully? What if we took things slow at the beginning so that by the time we got down to brass tacks, we felt confident that we were truly working together on what matters?
What could happen if we disrupted all of our assumptions about how we communicate and work together?
This is the final installment in my series on decoding empathy. So far, we've covered some new ways to define empathy, how empathy can facilitate recognition, what empathy can teach us about creating more accessible social spaces, and how empathy plays a key role in copywriting. Today, we'll reimagine the practices, systems, and norms of communication at work to help more people feel seen and heard.
Keep reading, or listen to the episode on the What Works podcast.
Meetings—love 'em or hate 'em, they're part of the human experience.
We have meetings with family members, colleagues, and civic leaders. Hopefully, not all at the same time. And depending on your life and work circumstances, there is a good chance you have frequent meetings. Maybe you even have a meeting (or a few) today.
So, it might sound ludicrous to compare a meeting to a game you've never played before. Maybe it is. It's more of a thought experiment than a policy recommendation. But it's also true that we tend to assume a lot more than we should when it comes to communicating and working with other people.
Some of those assumptions are products of dominant culture. Here in the US, for instance, that probably means assuming that we should aim for objectivity, avoid conflict, and act with urgency. Those assumptions stem from capitalist and white supremacist values. And they make it harder for people who did not grow up with those values to fully participate. Those assumptions also mean groups miss out on valuable perspectives and different ways of thinking.
A bias toward sameness
Other assumptions might be products of our bias toward sameness. Today's work culture has done away with the Other. Instead of encountering the Other as fundamentally different from me, I'm encouraged to perceive other people as the Same. Or I'm encouraged to ignore the unfamiliar in my midst and create my own bubbles of sameness.
Throughout this essay, I’ll use Other to mean the embodiment of difference and alienness. I’ll use Same to mean the embodiment of conformity and familiarity. Asserting a bias towards sameness might seem odd for a couple of reasons. First, what's wrong with seeing everyone as the Same? Aren't we supposed to learn to stop seeing race, sexuality, gender, or disability? Isn't that how we learn to treat each other equally? No.
Sebene Selassie puts it this way: "Although we are not one, we are not separate. And although we are not separate, we are not the same." Sameness is not the same as equality. Sameness can't process what makes you and I think and feel differently. Sameness doesn't leave space for our whole humanity.
The second reason that asserting a bias towards sameness might seem odd is that we have more access to different kinds of people from different cultures with different experiences than ever in our history. With the internet and digital social networks, we should be awash in Others and tuned in to difference. Some are. But as a general rule, people use the internet to experience sameness. Our "total interconnection" serves, instead, to allow us to "pass over those who are unfamiliar." Our "horizon of experience becomes ever narrower," argues theorist Byung-Chul Han.
Back to meetings.
When meetings operate on assumptions, they encourage Sameness. Everyone is expected to adhere to a set of "rules" or "habits" that someone else assumed was the best way to do things. If people in the meeting have different needs or experiences, they have a harder time participating because they have to conform to the Same. Meanwhile, sameness also produces more sameness—in other words, status quo meetings lead to crappy status quo ideas.
Of course, I'm talking about meetings here because they're a very visible and nearly universal example of how the assumption of Sameness makes working together hard. But really, when I say "meetings," I mean any kind of communication between two or more people—at work, at home, at school, or at your town hall.
The presumption of the Same makes it all more challenging.
So what does it take to invite the Other in and create a space where they can participate?
To answer this question, I spoke with Leonie Smith, the founder of The Thoughtful Workplace. Leonie uses the tools and practices of nonviolence and Nonviolent Communication to help individuals and teams work better together, recognize their needs, and accommodate a diverse range of expression so everyone can feel heard and seen. She is particularly focused on supporting people with traditionally marginalized identities, including Black, indigenous, and people of color.
Truthfully, I've wanted to investigate Nonviolent Communication for years. So when I heard about Leonie and realized that her perspective would be a perfect way to wrap up this series, I jumped at the chance to talk with her. Before I get ahead of myself:
What is nonviolence?
The Western concept of nonviolence is rooted in the idea of ahimsa, which is central to Buddhism, Jainism, and Hinduism, dating back to before 1000 BCE.
In her work, Leonie focuses on practices that allow us to recognize our full humanity and that of others, thereby avoiding the violence of denying someone else (or ourselves) part of their identity. Showing up in our full humanity helps us "foster connection and create the experience of both being heard and also to hear other people." In this way, nonviolence helps us create space for the Other.
Byung-Chul Han argues that the Other has been driven out of modern culture. And that the possibility of the Other has been replaced by the "violence of the Same." By expelling the Other, we not only do violence to the Other, but we also do violence to ourselves—castigating our own differences, needs, and desires to better conform to sameness.
The tools and practices of nonviolence can help us welcome back the Other—for other people and for ourselves.
And nonviolent communication is a set of tools and practices for helping us understand our needs and others' needs so we can work together better.
What is Nonviolent Communication?
What we know as Nonviolent Communication (NVC) today was developed by a clinical psychologist named Marshall Rosenberg in the 1960s and 70s. It grew out of a combination of person-centered therapy and social psychology. NVC has been used as a tool for interpersonal relationships, workplaces, and social justice movements.
"At the core of [Nonviolent Communication]," Leonie explained, "is this understanding that there is a universal set of human needs. Primary in that set of human needs are things like having a sense of belonging, having the experience of being heard and received ... but also things like safety and connection and love." NVC helps us recognize needs—our own and others—so we can create more intentional relationships and ways of being with each other.
There are four elements to practicing Nonviolent Communication: observations, feelings, needs, and requests. By using these four elements, I can "clearly express how I am without blaming or criticizing" and "clearly express what would enrich my life without demanding." On the flip side, I can learn to receive your observations, feelings, needs, and requests without hearing criticism or blame and learn what would enrich your life without understanding it as a demand.
Nonviolent Communication ideally leads to (1) a better understanding of my own needs (2) a better understanding of what you need and (3) more open and honest expression.
The Center for Nonviolent Communication talks about the process as "empathy in action" because it encourages participants to receive the Other on their own terms, while also encouraging participants to express themselves on their own terms.
Leonie explained that NVC encourages conversations that revolve around more meaningful and enriching connections, rather than the "transactional pieces, like 'how to get what I want.'" The people she works with are often unable to identify their own needs or communicate something important to them because they don't know "how to make space for themselves." She helps them identify why that friction exists—maybe a previous experience, an old story, or the perception that they don't belong—and how they can "create possibilities to move forward."
Empathy in action
Leonie told me about supporting a client who felt dismissed or excluded from sharing their ideas. This client was part of a work culture that valued assertiveness, concise speech, and loudness. But these traits were neither natural to her nor part of her learned skill set.
"She did have things to share that were meaningful," Leonie explained, and "she wanted to create the opportunity to be able to share them." So they talked about what this client would need to support her in being able to express herself more fully. Then, they figured out what that request could look like so that the client could present it to the team.
Since her client's concern was that she didn't talk as fast or forcefully as her colleagues, Leonie suggested that she say something like, "I have something to share, but I'm not sure how quickly I can share it. Would you allow me to say what I have to say to the point that I'm complete and then give me your feedback?" That relatively simple request opened the door for Leonie's client to show up in meetings as herself with something meaningful to contribute.
In a culture that values Sameness, making a request like that can feel awkward, even risky. People who make requests for accommodation can be seen as high maintenance or needy. But those judgments are consequences of others denying their own needs and avoiding making their own requests. Those judgments are part of the violence of Sameness.
"You can make those kinds of requests," Leonie said, "and they could land without interest ... but more often than not, people are willing to make an accommodation in order to support you in feeling more fully heard." So the sticking point, she told me, might be how to ask—what words to use—or even to realize that asking is an option. The tools and practices Leonie teaches are helpful for both. That they exist demonstrates the opportunity to ask for what you need and gives words or frameworks for making that request easier.
If you're curious about the logistics of that, well, I was too.
Are meetings supposed to become a free-for-all? How do we manage this equitably? After all, one person's form of expression might make it harder for someone else to express themself.
Managing diverse needs can be a challenge, Leonie acknowledged, but it can be done. For example, consider a workplace like the one Leonie mentioned earlier. It values concise, direct, and efficient speech. Someone unaccustomed to expressing themselves that way will feel uncomfortable and potentially unable to contribute.
Leonie explained that the way to handle that isn't to completely flip who gets to speak by allowing the person who speaks, let's say, 'less efficiently' to take up all the time in a meeting. Instead, the leader or facilitator could let the person know that they'll interrupt from time to time to recap or check in. Or, the leader or facilitator might set up parameters at the beginning of a meeting. They could let the group know that everyone will get about two minutes to share their thoughts and ask how people would prefer to be alerted when their time is up.
By taking the time to connect, establish 'ground rules,' and invite requests for accommodation, a leader can "widen the window of tolerance for normative behavior." And it's a window that needs to be widened because "normal" behavior is quite narrow and contingent.
Questioning what's normal
Ideally, though, we co-create social spaces that support a wide range of expression. We question what's normative and reimagine how we work together so that everyone who should participate can participate.
In a recent post that complicates the “magic” of meeting in person,
Price shared how narrow windows of tolerance cause many people's typical behavior to fall outside what is considered “acceptable.” For this reason, in-person events can be a minefield of potential shame and ridicule—including the potential for dire professional consequences. He wrote:In the past, I have been reprimanded by academic advisors for the way I move and sit. When I have made the mistake of feeling at ease and moving and emoting in the ways that feel best for me, I have drawn stares and concerned questions about whether or not I was “okay.”
Price is talking about in-person "professional" events here. But widening our idea of what's "normal" or “acceptable” extends into any social space.
For example, it's taken years my husband and I to learn that my "normal" behavior when I get overwhelmed or overstimulated is to shut down. I lose the ability to speak. He's also learned to accept that if we're going to have an emotionally challenging conversation, it's better for me to sit next to him, say in a car or at a counter, than to look directly at him.
Importantly, I had to figure out that those were my needs before I could request that he accommodate them. And, at least for me, it wasn't until I had opened my own mind to a wider window of acceptable social behaviors that I could grant myself the self-empathy to recognize those needs.
A wider window of tolerance for quote-unquote normal behavior gives everyone involved the chance to identify and express their needs.
And that can change everything.
Of course, Nonviolent Communication practices don't ensure there's never a misunderstanding or that everyone's needs get met all the time. It's a process, not a magic bullet. So how do we check in and make sure that the process is working?
Aim for understanding and connection
Nonviolent Communication prioritizes both understanding and connection. To do that, we need to observe and check in.
"When you're checking for understanding," Leonie explained, "that's where you ... might [ask], 'Is this it?' or [say], 'This is what I'm hearing' and paraphrase what's being said." But when we notice and acknowledge that something has shifted in the conversation—maybe things have slowed down or someone's body language has changed—that's checking for connection. Leonie told me that "our bodies and brains are really sensitive to stuff when things are off."
She suggests pausing the conversation to see whether something changed, got missed, or a new need emerged. Even just pausing to ask how someone is feeling or how the conversation is landing for them can help to reestablish or strengthen the connection.
Creating a more thoughtful workplace
As we started to wrap up the conversation, I asked Leonie what the name of her company, The Thoughtful Workplace, means to her and what creating a more thoughtful workplace actually looks like.
Organizations, she said, are "human systems, but they're not set up around human needs." As a result, "with or without intention, tensions will show up." For her, a thoughtful workplace is one with the capacity to address those tensions and create the conditions for meeting human needs.
"I have a strong belief that things can be better for people, even at work." Me, too, Leonie. Me too.
Reading, listening, and empathy
In the first installment of this series, I mentioned the French philosopher Simone Weil. In her notebooks, Weil mused on the idea that we read others and that we are read by others. By using the word read, she acknowledges that each and every one of us presents as a text—a medium through which we communicate who we are, what we know, and how we feel.
Over time, we become speed readers. We build up a whole vocabulary of assumptions about who people are and what they mean when they communicate with us. We stop listening. Stop paying attention. Stop empathizing.
The tools and practices that Leonie uses with her clients—the tools and practices of nonviolence and Nonviolent Communication—help us slow down. Our reading becomes less perfunctory and more intentional. We allow the other to be Other and read them on their own terms.
This, Weil says, is justice: "to be continually ready to admit that another person is something other than what we read" them to be. Or to always remember that the other is "certainly something [different] than what we read."
Perhaps that is also the key to empathy.
Continuously reminding ourselves that whatever we think is happening for another person, the truth is something different. Empathy isn't the key to understanding someone else and their experience. Instead, empathy is a reminder that we must remain curious about and open to that which we can never fully understand.
I hear echoes of Simone Weil in the way Byung-Chul Han describes listening. "Listening," he writes, "is not a passive act. It is distinguished by a special activity: first I must welcome the Other, which means affirming the Other in their otherness." Truly listening allows the Other to be themself—"it frees them for their otherness." And in this way, Han argues, listening can be profoundly healing.
Leonie invites us to listen. To remain curious. To increase our capacity for noticing the ways we read (and are read) create an impact on others (and ourselves).
Not only can we create more thoughtful and just workplaces this way, but we can also transform our relationships and communities.
Find out more about Leonie Smith and The Thoughtful Workplace. And, check out her Ask Leonie video series, which offers practical, bite-sized ideas for navigating work relationships and culture thoughtfully and empathetically.
New Workshop: Remarkable Marketing Basics
When: Thursday, March 28 at 12pm ET/9am PT (90 minutes)
Format: Live Workshop (recorded), with slide deck & worksheets
Cost: Pay What You Want ($15 min), FREE for Premium Subscribers
The practice of marketing is all about connecting the right people with the right product at the right time.
Put another way, marketing is how a business connects with potential buyers, earns their attention, introduces its offer, and helps potential buyers evaluate whether its offer is right for them.
There are loads of possible ways to do this, and social media marketing is just one. And this workshop isn’t about social media at all.
This workshop walks you through:
the 3 critical building blocks of any marketing strategy: Discovery, Nurturing, and Evaluation
how to figure out where your marketing strategy is breaking down
and 2 of my favorite frameworks for creating remarkable marketing that resonates with the right people
This workshop is Pay What You Want (minimum $15) for those who aren’t Premium Subscribers. Please pay the minimum if you’re dealing with any financial hardship. The suggested price is $25, and $50 helps make the minimum price possible. Once you pay, you’ll be redirected to Crowdcast to complete your registration.
Premium Subscribers: click here to access the link to register free of charge.