Clear is kind

In my head, I would assume that someone telling me something nice or trying to reassure me of something was a really kind thing to do - giving the right answer. But I experienced something the other week that made me realise that is not the case. Someone gave me the 'right answer' to a question I asked them but I knew it was not the true one and it felt horrible, it felt like they didn't care. What I experienced was someone being challenged, being afraid, perhaps even embarrassed, then hiding.

The feeling I felt surprised me - it was as if my brain was telling me I should be happy with the answer but my body was telling me that it was not. I felt on edge and sad. In that moment, I felt like we had been disconnected. Perhaps I should have responded differently, encouraged honesty but the person did not want to go there and so we didn't go there, and as a result, our friendship also stayed where it was. I wanted his true answer because I wanted to know him better but he didn't want me to see.

This is something that we all do - and it isn't always from a bad motive, there are all sorts of reasons for it.

If I asked you what you think about America, I am asking as a wife of an American, the mum of an American, and as an in-law to a family of Americans. That means that when I am asking that question, what I am really wanting to know is if you will judge my family or if you have assumptions about America that will negatively impact the people I love.

All it takes for me in that moment, when asking the question about America, is for me to name what is behind my question. It is one small intentional sharing but it is important because that honesty creates connection rather than potential conflict.

I recognise that not all people or spaces feel safe to share that honesty — that is important to acknowledge. But in that, understand for yourself that by 'risk assessing' in that way, connection is not built. When you are ready to do that and feel safe to do that, you will know what to do.

In the same way, when we ask questions, they aren't 'just questions'. When I ask people the 'why', I can see that they panic, they automatically try to keep our connection in the moment by actually creating a white lie. And I get it, they don't want to hurt me or they don't want to cause conflict. So an alternative ending is given but the assumptions, the underlying beliefs are never talked about. So what is actually created is not connection, it is distance.

I have been in work situations where I can feel the dishonesty within a team. It is almost as if everyone has subconsciously agreed that we are going to be superficial and service level. Whilst this doesn't directly seem to be dishonesty, it is because it robs everybody of true connection. It is the perfect breeding ground for pretense, two-faced relationships, back chat and settling. We are modelling a way of connecting with one another that is acceptable and expected within our team.

I am not just writing this from my comfortable writer's chair telling you all what to do - I have done this in work situations, both successfully and badly! In one particular work context, I could feel all of the 'unsaid', I could hear the back-chatting and the work was struggling because of it. I had not one, but two separate conversations with two different people and it was not easy. One of them was spontaneous, fuelled by mama-bear passion trying to protect the person I line-managed. The other was thought-through, practised in my head and was accompanied by bullet point notes. They were both uncomfortable and they both cost me a lot but the workplace was better for it. Conflict and avoidance was able to be turned into connection.

In all honesty, the clear and kind way of interacting means we have to start getting comfortable with being uncomfortable - for the sake of our relationships. Comfort is not always a good thing for us.

You may be thinking now about a friendship or relationship where you know you are not being fully honest. My encouragement to you is to consider why you are creating distance with that person. It genuinely may be because you don't know whether your friendship can take it and I would want to push back and ask you to reflect on whose intentions you have at the centre.

Want more for your friendships, for your work relationships, for your family - you do not need to settle for 'playing a game', there is more available to you and for others. Being clear can be kind when you have the other person's best intentions at heart, when you want them to know they are seen and understood. Being clear also means that you are honest with yourself, you are able to reflect on the good, the bad and the ugly in the way that you see others and show up in the world.

Creating a culture where honest, kind conversations can thrive doesn't happen by accident. If you want help building that in your team or organisation, contact Canary & Cat.

Come as you are, Leave like us

I wonder how many places you have been to that have used the slogan, 'Come as you are'? I saw it just this week at a cafe - it was on one of their sale t-shirts! I have even seen the phrase on church websites.

It made me start thinking about what that phrase actually means. I understand what people are saying, they are wanting people to feel like they can be themselves when they come to the place. But what is interesting is, when you join a team, a community, a friendship group, a church, what ends up happening is that people end up speaking and acting the same.

People come as they are and they end up assimilating or unconsciously changing the more time they spend there or with each other.

I know that I do it. I have been in America these last few weeks and my accent changes - I chameleon myself so that I become less of a target. It feels safer for me if I don't stand out. I already look different in most spaces I have found myself and I don't want my voice to make me stand out even more. It is a survival tactic.

So what can we do in spaces to make sure people remain themselves? I had a few thoughts….

Celebrate differences and uniqueness rather than rewarding likeness. This can be really subtle and can impact a culture. It feels easier to have a conversation with someone who agrees with you and who you can relate to because you have the same social circles. But if we are trying to create spaces where people can be themselves, what needs to happen is people need to learn and be encouraged to be curious about those who are different to us. I say learn because I know that it doesn't come easily - it takes less energy to talk to someone whose life is like mine than it does to talk to someone whose current life situation is very different to mine. It requires genuine curiosity.

We are all different and we will see the world differently, experience the world differently. So often we want uniformity, again for ease, but I believe there is beauty in the diversity there is. I find it difficult to remember an experience where I have seen difference truly celebrated, because what can often happen is it becomes tokenism for optics sake. But I have seen it - a colleague praised what another colleague did and intentionally highlighted the differences they brought to the task, that they would never have done themselves or been able to bring themselves.

Increase the safety in spaces. One of the main reasons why people assimilate is to feel safe - it genuinely feels unsafe to be themselves. How can our places of work, worship and play be safe spaces? People need to see that when there is difference of opinion, challenge brought to people or varying perspectives, that people are not silenced, not publicly shamed or squashed. Those of us who feel unsafe in some spaces, we are attuned to safety and it is really easy to spot unsafe people and places. Genuine care for everyone to feel like they can be seen and heard without fear of shame, humiliation or mockery - that is what increases safety.

In a work context, this can look like encouragement of feedback, reflection and external governance. It is scary to have someone on the outside looking in and assessing you as an individual and a team. I remember when I was training as a speech and language therapist, we had to record ourselves talking with a client and then have others watch it back and give us feedback about our communication. It was horrific! It was uncomfortable and sometimes pretty brutal, but it gave me information that I would never have received otherwise. I would not have known how I come across nor been able to change my body language to make others feel comfortable. Processes like this show that the reputation of an individual or company is not more important than the safety of a space.

Words matter. It can be so easy to slip into 'us' and 'them' language, especially when a team is close-knit and work well together. I have experienced many moments, particularly in church contexts, where someone with authority has stood in front of a congregation and spoken about 'people who struggle with X or Y... those outside of the church' - clearly stating that if you belong to this community, there is a way to behave and a commonality in how we all experience the world. When you hear about'those other people' in situations like that, you automatically feel like you do not belong and you are being told that 'people like you' are not who this church community represents. Using the word 'we' instead of 'people' can be a small shift that creates a significant change in who relates to what you are saying.

Becoming mirrors to each other may seem like a lovely metaphor but it is an image of losing ourselves. The belief is that it is not safe to be seen and that everyone will be happier if they see someone like themselves. The cost is high because once you start mirroring, you can gain a false sense of belonging - you feel like you are part of the group and yet, at what point can you be yourself? Never! Because you have never been able to be you, you risk losing that belonging by lowering the mirror. What if you aren't welcome? What if people are disappointed? What will it do to your friendships?

Speaking from experience, it is terrifying to show yourself in a place that hasn't really seen you. But it is exhausting not being you, second guessing yourself. Don't waste your life away trying to be someone else. No-one can bring to the world what you can and if the places you are in cannot cope with you being you, go find other places.

Come as you are and learn from others. Not to become them but to become someone who can encourage others to come as they are, to model what a safe place looks like where they don't need to be you.

Canary & Cat exists to be the eyes and ears that help you understand what people are really experiencing in your team and culture. Get in touch if you'd like to know more.

Too Ashamed to Say It But Too Fired Up to Stay Quiet

I am always ashamed to say out loud that I have experienced trauma because of church.

I don’t know why. I said it yesterday with some wonderful colleagues (you know who you are if you are reading this!) and I was planning on saying it, but as soon as I did, I was overcome with shame.

Church is a good place, so you must have been bad

Everyone else manages to go every Sunday, so suck it up and go

You are a Christian, be like Jesus - forgive and forget

You are ruining your relationship with God

Those are the things that I hear in my head. They aren’t just one person’s voice. I think they are a combination of lots of people’s expectations, actual words and church environments I have been in.

How is it that I can share something that is real and happened to me - I have experienced trauma from Christians at church - and all these beliefs come pouring out of me?!

Is it because the wounds of this type of abuse are not physical? I have no bruises, no cuts and no scars that can be seen on me.

Is it because to name the pain, it would mean saying that people connected with God have done wrong? This means that church could potentially be an unsafe and untrustworthy place. Perhaps that feels too risky to say.

Is it because I think I won’t be believed? I can see others existing and belonging in spaces that have been unbearable for me to be in. Therefore I deduce that I am at fault.

Whatever the reason or reasons, they are incorrect. I cannot ignore the scars — open wounds, healing bruises on my soul and on my mind. I know that God is good and perfect and people make mistakes and treat people horrifically, even those who are Christian leaders. I can recognise that where there is beauty within an environment, a team, a church, there can also exist so much pain and evil.

So yes, I can feel vulnerable and afraid to share that I have experienced trauma that means I cannot walk into a church building without feeling afraid, but I shouldn’t feel ashamed.

I want to be seen as strong and not weak, courageous and not hurt.

I was embarrassed to acknowledge or say out loud that I had been hurt significantly by church spaces because I felt like it would discredit me and my work as Canary and Cat. But what it gifts me with is the ability to know how to help people intentionally create safer spaces. It gifts me with the opportunity to share the lived experience of trauma. It gifts me with the language to be able to speak to those who have also been hurt. It is a gift that was born out of pain and that is definitely worth sharing.

“I asked God why he led me through so much darkness. 

He answered, ‘It’s so you know the way out when I send you in for someone else’.” [Mia Adams]

And that is what I can do. I won’t ignore what happened to me, I do not need to prove myself to anyone, I can feel it all, keep on going and help others to see the way out.

I will help you discover how people may feel in your spaces, events, teams and services.

Creating safe spaces starts with understanding what unsafe feels like. If you want help making your church or organisation a safer place, contact Canary & Cat.

Challenge Comes at a Cost - But Who Ends Up Paying?

When you feel unsafe, you want to challenge the environment you are in, but to do that you need to feel safe enough to do it.

Let me clarify what I mean by challenge. You may have already imagined someone confronting you or you needing to have an altercation with someone, but what I mean by challenge is linked most closely with curiosity. It is when you have a question, a concern or insight about the place you work or worship and you want to share it.

I have been in work spaces where nothing is really said in terms of outcome or performance, except for a vague ‘good job’ and no other feedback is given - positive or negative. I felt on edge all the time and unsafe because I didn’t know what was expected. The uncertainty caused me to show up, but only partly. Either I copied the behaviour around me, that seemed like an acceptable way of being in the space or I gave some of me but never my creativity or my real passion.

Work for me in the last couple of decades has mainly been in churches or Christian charities and these add a whole other element to this division that I wanted to share today.

Because churches have the spiritual authority that comes with preaching the Gospel, Communion, leading in worship, there is a difficulty for people walking into a church or seeing something that they don’t think is right, to challenge. The church culture can create a real and felt power dynamic between those who are on staff and those in the congregation. This dynamic can mean that leaders are so far away and higher than those on the seats coming every week - a hierarchy spiritually and relationally.

When I have felt unable to challenge, I wonder what is wrong with me. The place that I care about and have invested in, that used to feel safe and welcoming, now feels unsafe and intimidating.

You can stay, feel unsafe and never challenge. You can adapt, put up walls to feel safe and never challenge. You could feel unsafe and talk with others you trust about the difficulties you face. Or you can leave - having challenged or having said nothing at all.

I tried to stay and blame myself, I tried to adapt at the cost of myself and then I left having challenged and still feeling pretty unsafe in a church space.

If you are staying and blaming yourself, please stop arguing with yourself. Whether someone validates it or not, your body or your mind are telling you something and you need to listen. You can create a safety in you and God can be there with you too.

If you are staying and adapting, please stop changing yourself. God has made you the way you are, noticing what you notice and you too need to listen. The body of Christ needs all its parts, however insignificant you feel. If you don’t feel safe to be you, I am sorry and it may be worth exploring in which spaces you feel safe.

If you have challenged and left, or not challenged and are thinking of leaving, there is a sadness that will come - I am sorry for that. You will feel courageous and then the grief will hit you - what you left, the relationships that won’t exist anymore, the community you will no longer be a part of. God will be there with you too - even if you can’t be in ‘his house’, he makes his home in you.

Creating safe spaces in church isn’t just good practice - it is the Gospel.

If you want help making that a reality in your context, contact Canary & Cat

It Is Either Her Chair or It is Mine

I felt it recently. That feeling where I felt like I needed to protect and fight for my space. I saw another Black woman succeed and I felt the fear - that because she had a space in that area and a platform, it meant that I couldn’t do what I felt called to do. I noticed it, fortunately, but it doesn’t always happen. I caught it because in one moment I was proud of my sister and then immediately I felt like I needed to fight. It was odd and felt very unnatural - almost conditioned, because it happened without thought.

I wonder when that came into play in my subconscious? I was always one of only a few Black people in places - my primary school, my secondary school, my youth church. I always felt like an exception, fortunate to be in whatever space I found myself because I was the only one. Perhaps it was the result of living outside a city in England - whatever it was, I was not ‘the norm’. And yet as a child I believed I could do anything. When I met other Black people, they felt like people who would understand and who I could relate to - people who looked like me. I wanted connection, not competition.

The feeling of competition came when I was older, when I started working for church. Perhaps it was because conversations around getting Black people to come to church became prevalent - it was when I first experienced tokenism. That scarcity mindset wasn’t one I was born with, but the reality was and is today, that there are limited spaces where Black people can be. Spaces where tokenism is real and only one Black person is required, not celebrated, just required.

It felt like I had to fight for my role. The Black woman near to me seemed like a person to be threatened by, not someone to learn from and encourage. But when the fight kicked in, I was confused because I didn’t realise who I was fighting. It certainly wasn’t the other Black woman, there was no threat from her, she was nothing but kind.

If I was to try and describe it, I would explain it like being in a playground - secondary school - if you can remember! You know when it is happening, when two people start to square up to one another. The atmosphere changes, it feels like a hurricane moving around you - the environment begins to feel unsafe. Your eyes start to search around, noticing the people around, quickly assessing the situation. Your body starts moving a little, trying to work out where the best place to stand is. That is what it feels like… the fear, the comparison, the assessment and then survival instincts kick in.

That is when the other person feels like a threat - fists clenched, turning inward and closing the door to another. What would it look like to open those doors and have open hands instead?

I cannot give something out of my hand when I need it to stay where I am. I can’t give away what may not come back around to me. But whether there is something coming back to me or not, is that the way I want to live? If the dream is not yet matching the reality, then the only way to make it that way is by living it out. If I can live with an open hand, reaching out to those other Black women around me, I am showing what it means to live as if there is no scarcity.

What does this look like in reality? It looks like encouraging sisters in their dreams, their projects and their activities. It looks like practically opening doors when and where I can so that others can have access.

I have experienced this more than I have done it for others and I am ashamed of that. I have been the recipient of genuine care and love from another who has opened doors for me, encouraged me and helped me to believe in a reality that is prophetic and not necessarily real today, but one that I want to fight for. A place and time where all are given opportunity, support and encouragement.

I cannot close my eyes and wish for a different future but I can acknowledge the systems I live in and choose to live differently - I can choose to show hope to those around me who need it. And I feel the pain, I do not ignore the reality that doors are closed to certain people and wide open to others. I cry, I live with an open hand and I don’t armour up but I protect my heart and I give hope to others.

The system exists, but it doesn’t need to be my story.