communication

In praise of discomfort (unlearning white politeness, masking and conflict avoidance)

In praise of discomfort (unlearning white politeness, masking and conflict avoidance)

I’ve spent a lot of time in the five years since being diagnosed with ADHD thinking about masking, and how I might consciously or unconsciously choose to modify my behaviour in order to be more socially acceptable. Lately, I’ve noticed a desire and a tendency to put less effort into this, though it feels risky and exposing to do so. At a certain point in the life of many neurodivergent people, especially those diagnosed later in life, the mask begins to slip, perhaps because we no longer have the capacity to spend energy on maintaining it, or because we choose to take it off. It’s interesting to look at how this is received in different contexts – the world is changing, and our understanding of different neurotypes is developing quickly, even though this feels like something that’s still in its infancy. In some situations, people are accepting of, and accustomed to unusual communication styles, movements, ways of thinking and requests for adjustments. In others, we might be judged more harshly (like the time someone on a training course told me that nobody will ever take me seriously if I continue to move my hands like that when I talk). Masking, or toning ourselves down in order to fit in or be ‘taken seriously’ is more about others’ comfort than the needs of the person wearing the mask. Sure, it might stem from a deep seated need to belong (or a less deep but equally crucial need to be employable). But holding back our need to manage our nervous systems and energy levels, admit that we’ve forgotten someone’s name, bow out of small talk, zone out or follow a mental tangent is largely about managing others’ comfort…

There are many ways in which neurotypical people might experience pressure to mask, adapt and suppress instinctive behaviours or needs in order to maintain a sense of social cohesion or ‘civility’.

During these last few years, I’ve also become increasingly aware of a link between this phenomenon and the idea of ‘white politeness’. Being ‘civilised’ was (and in so many ways, continues to be) a concept weaponised in colonialism, positioning white European societies as morally, intellectually and culturally superior to the global majority.

‘So what is it that you actually do?’ – Stories from a coach and facilitator with a niche job title (Part 1)

‘So what is it that you actually do?’ – Stories from a coach and facilitator with a niche job title (Part 1)

A theme that quickly emerged in my work was a palpable sense of anxiety around confronting complex and difficult topics related to power, privilege and identity. There was often ambivalence or resistance among people in positions of authority and those with societal privilege – sometimes based on a sense that perhaps they were going to be shamed or ‘told off’ for things that may be out of their control. And there could also be a question for people with any role or identity about whether a group environment in the workplace was a psychologically safe enough space in which to openly and honestly discuss any challenges related to inclusivity, accessibility and fairness. I found that it was getting increasingly difficult to get a group of professionals together in a room to discuss these issues or, in fact, anything else that required quite a lot of vulnerability, risk and trust in order to be tackled well.

This led me to become really interested in how I might use the resources available to me from the world of body focused, trauma-informed work to help set up the conditions for difficult conversations in groups and teams.

Embodied communication – using body wisdom to support difficult conversations

Embodied communication – using body wisdom to support difficult conversations

It’s an interesting and turbulent time here in the UK and further afield, politically speaking. I’ve found myself having lively debates at the pub, emotionally charged conversations with family members, colleagues and acquaintances, and difficult interactions with people who hold fundamentally different views and values to my own. This has led me to think about how we might connect with the wisdom our bodies have to offer in order to support us with sensitive, challenging and potentially triggering conversations. How might we tune in to signs and signals of potential overwhelm, re-regulate our nervous systems during and after a charged interaction, and stay grounded enough to actively listen and speak from a thoughtful place?