“What’s her problem?” my coworker, whom I have named Kim, asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.
Our colleague, Alice, had just stormed into our shared office, barely spoken to either of us, then left quickly, slamming the door as she stormed out.
Before we had time to speculate further, Kim hurried out the door for morning rounds on the west wing. I looked at the clock. It was eight-thirty, so I, too, left the office, rushing off to make my rounds on the east wing. I encountered Alice on my rounds, but she barely made eye contact or spoke to me. This was problematic, since she was my case manager and my counterpart in the cardiovascular unit of the hospital, and we relied heavily on each other.
Once rounds were done, I walked over to the west wing to meet with Kim and determine my workload for the day. When we finished discussing our respective patients, the conversation shifted to Alice.
“So, did you find out what’s wrong with her?” Kim inquired.
“Nope, not yet.”
“Do you have any idea what it could be?”
“The only thing I can come up with is that maybe she’s mad about me moving Mr. Roberts in 964 to a skilled nursing facility instead of rehab, like she wanted. To a certain extent, I can understand her not being happy with the outcome since that transfer took a few days longer. But I also know that skilled nursing is the appropriate level of care for Mr. Roberts, so she needs to get over it. Anyway, she changes course on patient care all the time without informing me or the doctor until the patient is on his way out the door. She really shouldn’t have a problem with me making a change this one time. At least I did consult the doctor.”
“Well yeah, but you know how Alice is.”
“Yeah, I know how she is. But I also know she needs to get over it.”
With that, we went our separate ways. Later that day, I received a call from Catherine, my supervisor, telling me I was needed at a meeting with her, Alice, and our director. The meeting was scheduled to begin in less than thirty minutes.
“I don’t believe this!” I muttered as I hung up the phone.
“Don’t believe what?” Kim asked.
“Catherine called a meeting with her, Alice, me, and Tim (all pseudonyms) in his office at two-thirty.”
“For what?”
“My guess is that Alice went and complained to her about me. You know they’re friends.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m not sure why Alice would go to that extent over something so trivial. I mean, the goal is patient care above everything, right?”
“That’s what I thought, but apparently ego stroking has been added to the list,” I said.
As I sat there thinking about the ambush I suspected I was about to walk into, I felt my head start to pound. Moisture gathered on my palms.
How could Alice report me for simply doing my job? I mean, at least I’d spoken with the doctor about it . . . and the patient’s insurance would never have covered the rehab Alice had recommended.
Another point of frustration was that Catherine and Alice were friends and Catherine had a reputation for being petty. I knew regardless of how right I could prove myself to be, I would walk out of the meeting the loser. This was a no-win situation, and the thought of it infuriated me. Before I knew it, I had worked myself into a mental rage and had prepared vicious responses for every possible accusation.
Ordinarily, my anger would have ruled in this maddening situation. I would have openly expressed to Catherine and Alice, in front of Tim, that their friendship put me in a position of feeling attacked, that it was inappropriate to call me less than an hour before a meeting to tell me it was happening, and that I felt their goal was not to problem-solve but to put me in my place.
I would have further explained how unprofessional I thought Alice had been throughout my time working with her—she consistently disregarded the knowledge, experience, and opinions of everyone on the team and made decisions as if hers were the only ones that mattered. Kim observed the external effects of my rage.
“This is so immature of Alice,” she remarked. “But don’t let it get you down. She’s just insecure.”
Something about that statement resonated with me. Suddenly, I stopped demonizing Alice and took a fair and honest look at who she was and not just her behavior. Alice was a tall, beautiful, dark-skinned woman from the Caribbean who still had a heavy accent.
Beautiful and smart as she was, I had often watched as she was ignored and overlooked in social and work-related situations, either due to people’s difficulty understanding her or simply because she was a Black woman.
I knew the struggle of being a Black woman in the workplace all too well from personal experience. However, I couldn’t begin to know how it felt to literally not be understood when I spoke simple words. That had to be stressful. Perhaps Alice’s often seemingly flippant attitude and refusal to be a team player were defense mechanisms, built-in responses to the poor treatment she had received in the workplace over the years.
As I sat in deep thought, it occurred to me that the answer to this problem might be to try to bridge our differences rather than preparing to spar with Alice and Catherine in the meeting.
When I viewed the situation from Alice’s perspective, I realized that in addition to my nondominant position as an African American woman, I also belonged to a dominant group of American-born English speakers with no accent. Where I, as a member of the dominant group, saw this situation as an isolated occurrence, it’s likely that to Alice, my disregard for her opinion was just one more example of why she didn’t feel like a respected member of the team.
Interestingly, I’d long been aware of my membership in this group when dealing with Kim, who was from Russia and had a non-American accent as well. When she spoke, however, I always listened carefully, to keep from having to ask her to repeat things. My reaction to Alice’s abrasive approach, on the other hand, might have kept me from realizing this was true with her as well.
Also, I had been so caught up in my anger toward her for involving a member of a dominant group in our situation (in the form of Catherine, a White woman, and my boss), I hadn’t seen how my own dominant group membership (whether acknowledged or not) might be viewed by her as a threat. I decided to approach the situation in a way that would empower Alice while also ensuring my own voice was heard.
“It’s good to see everyone today, though I wish we were here under different circumstances,” Tim said once we were all settled in his office, game faces firmly in place.
Breaking protocol, I smiled pleasantly. Alice seemed to visibly fight the urge to roll her eyes as she shifted in her chair.
“Alice, I understand you have some concerns about the way cases are being handled on your unit. Is that correct?” Tim continued.
“Yes, it is,” Alice replied in an abrasive tone.
“What exactly is the problem?”
She explained how I had “gone behind her back” to transfer a patient to a different level of care than what she had initially recommended. She referred to me as obstinate, difficult to work with, and not a team player.
Her words cut like a knife. I sat in painful silence, reminding myself with every biting remark that I was not there to avenge myself. Instead, the goals were to offer a sincere apology, explain my position compassionately, respectfully express my feelings, and commit to productive collaboration moving forward.
As I expected, Catherine fully supported Alice. Clearly uncomfortable with where this conversation appeared to be going, with every passing second Tim’s usually pale face became increasingly red.
Finally, it was my turn to speak. “First off, Alice, I want to tell you that I apologize for making you feel as if I don’t respect your position as a vital part of the team, because I really do. You’re an experienced case manager, and the unit wouldn’t run as smoothly as it does without you.
In this instance, I moved forward with a change in the level of care based on my professional opinion and because I’d consulted the patient’s doctor and he agreed.
“In retrospect, I see that I went wrong by not providing you with an update on the status of the case. To be honest, I justified my actions—or inaction toward you—by telling myself that you never consult me when you make changes. But now,” I continued, “I see that by reacting to what I perceived as your negative behavior, I was only amplifying the problem between us. Moving forward, I want you to know it’s my intention to make sure we’re always on the same page. I will be sure to effectively communicate with you every morning during rounds and throughout the day as needed. I only ask that you do the same. I think you’re great at what you do and have a lot to offer the team. I want to always keep the lines of communication open so we each have access to what the other brings to the table.”
As I spoke, I watched Alice’s squared shoulders slowly drop. Her breathing, initially more of an audible huff, quieted, and the corners of her mouth relaxed.
“I appreciate your honesty,” she said, “and you’re right. I did feel excluded. Thank you for putting yourself in my shoes. I’m willing to work on my communication in the future as well.”
Following our exchange, Catherine and Tim both weighed in on the outcome. We all left the meeting feeling a lot lighter than when we began, or at least I did. As an African American woman, it can be difficult, even scary at times, to express my true feelings for fear of being misunderstood or judged.
It felt good to have expressed my true feelings, to have given another member of a nondominant group the opportunity to do the same, and to have achieved a positive outcome.
Ashleigh Gardner-Cormier is a Licensed Master Social Worker with over fifteen years of experience in the field. She has spent the last five years in the area of legal social work, where she works alongside attorneys to ensure that holistic services are provided to the clients they serve while simultaneously educating legal professionals on the value of collaboration between the social work and legal professions and increasing the number of social workers in the field. In her down time, Ashleigh enjoys singing (she has released two singles available on all digital platforms under the pseudonym “Ashleigh Brae”) and spending time with her husband and two young children.
Ashleigh first became aware of Conscious Change skills in a course, Dynamics of Leadership, taught by Dr. Latting in the Graduate College of Social Work at the University of Houston in 2009. She values Dr. Latting’s teachings a great deal and credits the skills taught in the course with helping her to obtain and maintain the position she now holds.
