Saying something nice

Microvalidations are habitual recognitions of belonging and appreciation—an antidote to the chronic othering and disrespect that characterize microaggressions. I was excited to see this concept highlighted by Laura Morgan Roberts, Megan Grayson, and Brook Dennard Rosser in the Harvard Business Review last month.

They summarize research of a “longstanding praise deficit” experienced between employees in dominant and non-dominant groups. “Black and brown children receive far fewer compliments and more disciplinary action than their white peers,” they note, and in adulthood, “workers from historically underrepresented groups are often subject to more scrutiny and less recognition.” This contributes to their lower rates of promotion, increased stress, and worse health.

Any one of us can counteract this trend just by giving a smile and a nod, correctly pronouncing someone’s name, or acknowledging someone’s contribution.

I love how simple and powerful microvalidations are. Why is it so hard for us humans to validate each other?

I live in the Northeast U.S. Other parts of the world are friendlier as a norm. I suppose we set our praise levels from our family upbringing. My extended family loves each other, but we almost always follow expressions of love with a joke or sarcasm. My upbringing means that giving microvalidations doesn’t come naturally to me. I have had to intentionally develop the skill over years. I did it because I knew it was important for my children. As it is for colleagues and clients.

If I can develop it, anybody can and, as the research indicates, it is important for inclusion and belonging in the workplace.

Still, even the super-nice among us have unconscious bias.

A friend of mine who is a senior leader in her organization realized she wasn’t consistently acknowledging colleagues when they made comments in meetings. “People always talk to me when I walk into a room,” she reflected. “I thought everybody was getting what I was getting.”

When we’re in a position of privilege and are consistently valued, welcomed, and respected, we might not notice when other people aren’t.

Others who withhold praise seem to believe that if other people are worthy of recognition they would get it. This is the myth of meritocracy—the faith that “cream rises to the top” and the best people make it on their own, in a kind of free market of human worth.

I call BS.

There are plenty of smart people who work hard and still aren’t recognized in the same way that others are. Good luck can play a role in success; usually it’s thanks to boosters and mentors who help someone along the way.

And group membership plays an undeniable role. People who don’t happen to be white and male and other high-status identities have equal merit—but they don’t have equal success or praise.

The best way to help cream rise is to sweeten it with praise, respect, and opportunities.

Pour on the microvalidations, and we all benefit.

What are we doing for Juneteenth?

Juneteenth has officially gone from a cultural and regional tradition for Black Americans to a federal holiday, with a day off work for everyone.

I admit I have mixed feelings about this development.

On the one hand, the official abolition of slavery is worthy of a place in the calendar. And not just for African Americans. We all should be marking this profound and hard-won change in the United States. It’s fitting to observe the moment when “all men are created equal” became more true in our law, just a few weeks before the country shuts down to honor the Declaration of Independence.

And yet, because of the brutal history that bridges those two holidays, I’m uncomfortable with celebrating them in the same way we celebrate most holidays.

We seem to turn federal holidays into advertising campaigns, don’t we? Tributes to George Washington and Abraham Lincoln somehow ended up as people in tricorn hats selling cars. Amazon is full of merchandise ready to capitalize on Juneteenth. We’ve already seen an ice cream flavor for it.

But I don’t want this day to become a sale.

Celebrations are great—gathering with friends and loved ones for food and community is always good.

But Juneteenth also an opportunity for reflection. What does freedom mean to you? What is your role, and your family’s role, in the legacy of slavery? How does it continue to shape where you live, your opportunities, our culture?

Organizations can ask these questions too. Some of our clients are offering events this week, often with a guest speaker, to give employees some background and a space to learn and discuss. The holiday can be a powerful part of your DEI strategy: you can’t make system-wide changes without individual awareness and growth.

If your organization is doing something like that, great. If not, Ella F. Washington and Jasmine Sanders in the Harvard Business Review have some great suggestions:

• Sponsor visits to a Black/African-American museum, site, or cultural center in your area

• Provide a list of Black businesses to patronize along with local community celebrations of the holiday

• Announce increased investments in your DEI initiatives

Ultimately, learning about slavery and freedom in American history is one of the most appropriate ways to observe Juneteenth. Pick up a history book (or bring one to your book club)—I’ve always loved the works of John Hope Franklin (From Slavery to Freedom), and the newer classics are must-reads: The Warmth of Other Suns, 1619, Caste. Swap out your Netflix binging with some movies (fiction or documentary), like Selma, Hidden Figures, Civil War (Or, Who Do We Think We Are), or Becoming.

So what are you doing with your Juneteenth? The traditions we start now will help keep this holiday more about being reflective than about being profitable.

The trade-off of remote work for people in marginalized groups

Organizations have been wrestling with what the return to the office looks like. And employees are feeling all kinds of ways about the change—from excited, to mixed, to bummed.

Many people in historically marginalized groups have a specific reason they’re bummed about coming back to in-person work: working from home meant fewer microaggressions.

The compliments that actually insult your group (“You’re so articulate!”)...the invasion of space (“I love your curls; I have to touch them!”)...the presumption of foreignness (“Where are you really from?”)...and unconscious slights that affect your professional success: being constantly interrupted, watching your ideas be credited to others, being left uninvited to meetings and social events.

When you’re not in the same physical space, many of these slights go away. Nobody can confuse you with the other Black employee if your name is written on your video panel. The chronic irritations and small inequities many women endure, from office temperature to uncomfortable shoes, disappear when you’re in your home office, dressed from the waist up. Remote work can be a boon for self-care.

In some ways, the playing field feels more level when it’s a zoom screen. But there’s a trade-off that’s especially relevant for people in groups that have been marginalized. The informal connections that only happen in person often lead to professional opportunities—being invited to contribute to a project, getting advice, launching lasting mentoring relationships. These are crucial elements in advancing a career. If you aren’t seen, you might be forgotten.

So if you have been cherishing your time away from the office, remember it may have a cost. It’s up to us as individuals to take care of our careers. We have to be mindful and intentional about maintaining the relationships that will help us to advance.

But this shouldn’t be solely on employees’ shoulders. Leaders: when a team member says they don’t want to come back to full-time, in-person work, have a conversation with them about why. If the office environment is one of their reasons, don’t penalize them. Be as flexible and supportive as you can.

Ask what would help them feel safe and productive in the office. If they imply that microaggressions are a factor, make it a priority to address this through training and practice. If they say they are more productive at home, explore ways to create a space for them at the office with fewer distractions.

Whatever arrangement you make, take time to consider who might be falling through the cracks. Be intentional about getting all staff the development they need whether they work in-person or virtually. Make sure you find ways to have touchpoints for people who work virtually, especially with mentoring relationships.

And notice the discomfort people express about this transition. When people left the office, the toxic aspects of work that they’d been tolerating for so long became painfully evident.

This was true for everyone. But it was a little more pointed for people who have been historically excluded.