The One Question That Transforms Microaggressions Into Connection

The meeting had just ended, but the tension in the room lingered like a stubborn ghost. The team was discussing a new initiative to support a community in a different part of the city, and a well-intentioned but ill-phrased comment had been made about their culture. To most of the team, the comment seemed harmless—a simple observation about "how they do things." But I had seen the subtle shift on Maya's face. She’d gone from engaged and passionate to silent and withdrawn in an instant. Her jaw had tightened almost imperceptibly, and her gaze had dropped to the notes on her lap.

Later that afternoon, Maya came to me privately. She was hurt, and her voice trembled with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. "It's just… it's the same thing over and over," she said, her eyes welling up. "They see a part of my culture as a problem to be solved, not a strength to be understood. I just feel like an outsider here."

I felt my heart sink. I had a choice to make. I could defend her co-workers intent, dismissing Maya’s pain as a misunderstanding. I could validate her hurt and reprimand the other person, creating a conflict. Or, I could do something different—something I’d learned after years of navigating these exact situations. I could ask the question that changes everything.

"What am I not seeing?"

This isn't just another conflict resolution tool. This is the question that transforms microaggressions from relationship-ending moments into relationship-deepening opportunities. When someone on your team feels hurt by a comment, assumption, or interaction, this question becomes your bridge between impact and intent, between defensiveness and growth, between division and connection.

The Uncomfortable Truth of Passionate Workplaces

In nonprofits, startups, and other mission-driven organizations, we’re not just dealing with employees; we’re dealing with people whose hearts are fully invested in the work. Their personal values, identities, and life experiences are inextricably linked to the mission. When a comment touches on a sensitive part of their identity, it’s not just a professional slight—it feels deeply personal.

Here's the uncomfortable truth we must all face: microaggressions will happen on your team. It's not because your people are bad, malicious, or intentionally cruel. It's because we're all human, carrying unconscious biases and different life experiences. We all have blind spots. We all make assumptions, and sometimes those assumptions land with unintended harm.

But here’s the empowering truth: how you handle these moments determines whether they become learning opportunities or relationship casualties.

As a leader, you've probably experienced this yourself:

• A team member shut's down after a comment that seemed innocent to everyone else.

• Watching passionate colleagues become guarded around each other.

• Feeling like you have to choose sides when someone reports feeling hurt.

• Sensing that people are walking on eggshells instead of communicating authentically.

• Navigating the aftermath when good intentions create unintended harm.

The problem isn't the existence of these moments; it's our deeply flawed approach to dealing with them.

The Hidden Cost of Our Current Responses

Research shows that microaggressions, those subtle, everyday slights that communicate bias, can lead to increased stress, anxiety, and a host of other negative mental health outcomes. They are not harmless. But our typical responses to them often make things worse, pushing the team further apart.

We get trapped in a few common patterns:

1. The "Call Out" Culture Trap

When we immediately label someone as problematic, shame them publicly, or demand they face consequences, we trigger their brain's threat response. This leads to defensiveness, withdrawal, and a missed learning opportunity. The person who spoke feels attacked and focuses on self-preservation, not on understanding the impact of their words. It creates a culture of fear, where people are afraid to speak up, ask questions, or make mistakes.

2. The "Just Get Over It" Trap

When we minimize someone's hurt or focus only on the speaker's good intentions ("He didn't mean it that way!"), we invalidate the person who was harmed. We signal that their pain is less important than the speaker's feelings, which pushes the pain underground and further erodes their trust in leadership. It communicates to the team that psychological safety is conditional.

3. The Hypervigilance Trap

When we become so focused on avoiding offense that our brains are constantly scanning for threats, we can become stuck in a state of perpetual anxiety. This can lead to exhaustion, missed opportunities for genuine connection, and a culture where every interaction feels like a potential minefield.

None of these approaches creates the connection and understanding we truly crave. They turn a moment of potential learning into a moment of shame and division.

A Different Way Forward: From Condemnation to Connection

What if instead of seeing "aggressor" and "victim," we saw two humans in a moment of misunderstanding?

What if, instead of choosing between intent and impact, we honoured both?

What if difficult conversations became opportunities for mutual growth instead of battles to be won?

This is where "What am I not seeing?" becomes transformational. It’s the difference between "calling someone out" and "calling someone up."

Calling someone out assumes the worst, seeks to punish, and often leads to shame, which is a terrible teacher. It’s an act of condemnation.

Calling someone up assumes positive intent while still addressing negative impact. It creates space for learning, and it helps people move from shame to productive self-awareness. It's an act of connection and invitation.

The difference is profound: one approach asks, "How can I make this person pay for their mistake?" The other asks, "How can we both grow from this moment?" The latter creates a path forward.

What This Looks Like in Real Life: A Practical Framework

This framework doesn’t require you to be a conflict resolution expert. It requires you to be a curious leader.

Here’s how to apply it:

Step 1: The Initial Conversation (With the Person Who Was Hurt)

When Maya came to me, my first instinct was to jump to a solution. Instead, I paused and used the question to guide my response.

• Instead of: "That's terrible! I'll talk to him right away." (This is the "Call Out" trap.)

• I tried: "Thank you for trusting me with this. Help me understand what I might be missing about your experience. What impact did that comment have on you?"

This simple shift validated her feelings without escalating the situation. I didn't just ask about the comment; I asked about its impact on her. This gave her the space to share her full story, not just the facts. I learned that the comment wasn’t an isolated incident; it was one of many small moments that had been chipping away at her sense of belonging for months.

Step 2: The Conversation (With the Person Who Caused the Harm)

After understanding Maya’s perspective, I spoke to my other colleague, let's call him Mark. My goal was not to accuse him but to invite him into a learning moment.

• Instead of: "You made a microaggression and hurt someone, and we need to talk about it." (This would trigger his threat response immediately.)

• I tried: "Mark, I want to share some feedback about the impact of a comment you made in the meeting. Can we talk for a few minutes about what you were intending and how it landed?"

Mark, surprised, said he didn't even remember the comment. This is common.

Microaggressions are often unintentional. I didn't shame him for not remembering; I simply explained the impact. "While I know you intended to connect, the comment landed as an assumption about Maya's culture. It made her feel like an outsider."

Mark’s face fell. He wasn’t defensive; he was genuinely horrified. What he experienced wasn’t humiliation—it was self-awareness. Shame, which says "I am a bad person," is a powerful motivator for hiding and defensiveness. Instead, by showing him something he hadn’t seen before, he was made self-aware, not labelled as bad. Because the environment was safe and nonjudgmental, that self-awareness didn’t spiral into defensiveness. Instead, it opened a door. He was able to ask, “How can I fix this?”, not from a place of shame or obligation, but from a place of responsibility and a genuine desire to do better.

Step 3: The Bridge-Building Conversation

The next step was to bring them together as it was important they could work as a team.

• Instead of: "Let's hash this out and make sure everyone feels okay." (This minimizes the issue and puts the burden on Maya.)

• I tried: "Thank you both for being here. Mark wants to hear more about your experience, Maya, and share his perspective. My role is to help us understand each other better. What is important to understand about each person's perspective?"

  
  

In that conversation, Mark apologized sincerely, not for being a bad person, but for the specific impact of his words. He was able to clarify his intent and ask questions. Maya was able to explain her experience and feel seen. The conversation wasn’t just about the microaggression; it was about building a deeper understanding of each other's backgrounds and perspectives. They didn't just get past the issue; they built a stronger, more authentic relationship because they were willing to be vulnerable.

The Neuroscience Behind Why This Works

Here's what shame does to the brain: it triggers the threat response, shuts down learning, and activates defensiveness. When someone feels globally bad about who they are (shame), their brain's prefrontal cortex, the part responsible for empathy and rational thought, goes offline. They typically withdraw, deny, or attack back. Learning is impossible in this state.

But curiosity and empathy activate different neural pathways. They create psychological safety, which is required for genuine learning and behaviour change. When you approach a difficult conversation with a posture of curiosity, you are signalling to the other person’s brain that this is not an attack; it is an invitation to learn.

Shame says: "I am a bad person."

Self-awareness says: "I did something that had a negative impact, and I want to do better."

When we approach microaggressions with curiosity instead of condemnation, we help people move from shame (which paralyzes) to self-awareness (which motivates growth).

Building Your Hard Conversation Skills

Most of us were never taught how to navigate these delicate moments. We were taught to avoid conflict, not to engage with it constructively. We need to develop specific competencies that are often labelled as "soft skills," but are, in fact, essential leadership tools.

• Active Listening: This goes beyond hearing the words. It's about seeking to understand the full experience, not just preparing your response. It means asking clarifying questions like "What did that feel like for you?" and "Can you tell me more about that?"

  
  

• Empathetic Communication: This is the skill of acknowledging impact without assuming malicious intent. It’s the ability to say, "I hear that was incredibly hurtful for you," while also creating space for the other person’s perspective.

  
  

• Curious Questioning: This is the habit of asking "Help me understand..." instead of making statements like "You should have known..." It’s the posture of a learner, not a judge.

  
  

• Emotional Regulation: This is the ability to manage your own reactions so you can stay present for others. In a charged moment, everyone's ability to remain calm and centered is a powerful tool for de-escalation.

  
  

• Bridge Building: This is the art of finding the common ground between different perspectives. It means helping people see the shared humanity in each other, even when their experiences are different.

  
  

These aren't just "nice to have" skills. They are the fundamental building blocks of a resilient, high-performing, and inclusive team.

The Leader Your Team Needs

When you consistently ask "What am I not seeing?" in these charged moments, you create a culture of safety and growth. Your team starts to trust that mistakes won't be met with shame and punishment, but with curiosity and opportunity for growth.

This approach doesn't make you a perfect leader... it makes you a growing leader. Someone who recognizes that microaggressions are part of the human experience, but they don't have to be relationship-ending experiences. Your passionate team members deserve to work in an environment where they can bring their authentic selves without fear, both the freedom to be imperfect and the safety to be seen and understood when they're hurt.

Because the true test of leadership isn't in preventing every mistake; it’s in how you respond when they inevitably happen. It’s in your willingness to be the bridge, to hold space for the difficult conversations, and to turn a moment of hurt into an opportunity for deeper connection.

What microaggressions might be happening on your team that you're not seeing? I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences.