Chapter Six

Ask, don’t assume

Assumptions are biases that can destroy relationships. Can you remember a time when someone made an assumption about you that wasn’t true? Was it funny? Hurtful?

We all know what the kids say: “When you assume you make an ass of u and me.” It is silly, of course. But as with many lessons learned in kindergarten, it is indeed useful. People do not often enjoy being pigeonholed, labeled, or thought of as one-dimensional. People are complex. Being human is hard. And the more marginalized or unfamiliar your group is, the more challenging it is to navigate the perils of everyone else’s assumptions. Don’t think of assumptions as harmless generalizations—see them for the biases they actually are.

Tiffany recalls a cycle of assumptions that followed her through her educational experiences.

I was often the only black student in a sea of white faces. My minority status was omnipresent and the norm for me. I actually didn’t mind at all until the lessons on slavery or black history came up. Everyone would look at me and assume I was some sort of race expert, even as a child. Maybe they were looking for my reaction—who knows? But I was asked questions about being black and I did not like being put on the spot, as if that was my only identity. Then there was the inevitable arrival of another black student. If it was a boy, everyone assumed that I was going to date him. Or at least they thought that I should date him—because we were both black.

This is what our society does; it creates stereotypes and reinforces them. The kids who made those assumptions probably did not have open conversations with their parents about race. If they did, then did their parents tell them that everyone should stick to their own kind? Not many families will go on record saying that, though some will. Parents who fail to talk to their kids about differences will end up with kids who pick up on societal stereotypes and run with them.

For me, the worst assumption by far was the one teachers often made. As the daughter of a military officer, I moved around a lot. I was a professional “new kid.” Again, I didn’t actually mind. It was an adventure. What got under my skin was the fact that most every new teacher assumed I would be a low performer. How did I know? They didn’t tell me, if that’s what you are thinking. Can you tell when someone thinks less of you than others? The overt cues were that I would be placed in the remedial groups first, or be patronized in some irritating way. That attitude was usually followed with visible shock and disbelief when I proved to be a top performer, if not the top performer in all of my classes. Someone had to be at the top of the class. Why was it such a surprise that it was me?

Tiffany was able to recognize these blatant displays of unfair and unwarranted assumptions, but it isn’t always so easy. Attributional ambiguity is a concept that describes how hard it can be to determine why bad things are happening to you. It’s an experience that plagues minorities and marginalized groups in particular. Basically, it means that when you are a member of a marginalized group, you never know whether something happens to you because you are a member of that group or whether it just happened randomly. It is the source of great anxiety. Think about the phenomenon of “driving while black.” Many African Americans and people of color will tell you that they are pulled over just for being minorities. Data support that fact, but could it also be speeding? A missing taillight? An expired tag? When you are in a minority group and bad things happen, sometimes it’s because bad things happen. But as a result of our checkered human history, sometimes it’s because of bias.

Learning to ask and not assume is a key skill to overcoming bias.

Our assumptions get us into all kinds of trouble. Never assume that you know or understand another person’s perspectives or experiences. Even if you have been through something very similar, or know someone who has, individual experiences are deeply personal and inherently unique. People take great offense when you think you know who they are without ever asking about their experience.

Our friend Marianne Vermeer shared a great example of what happens when we limit our perspective through assumptions.

There is a bumper sticker in places like Iowa and Michigan (where there are large populations of people who have immigrated from the Netherlands over the past century): “You’re Not Much If You’re Not Dutch.” It pointedly reminds me that the Dutch have a bit of a superiority complex. Their country is managed well and the Dutch pride themselves on hard work, thrifty and fair management, and a belief that you support your own. Those who cannot find work that pays a living wage or don’t know what a Calvinist work ethic is may deserve charity for a while but, the thinking goes, they really need to get their act together. Living and working in cultures where there are far fewer opportunities and a different approach to work brought home to me that my assumptions don’t always hold water outside of the resource-rich midwestern US. Being in rural villages in Alaska as a college student amongst Native Americans whose culture and way of life reaches back centuries started me on a journey of looking at the world with less “Dutch eyes.” Learning about the lives of Egyptians who lived on pennies a day because of a lack of education or a physical ailment made me realize that not all of us are born into circumstances that provide equal opportunity. Seeing the dignity with which these new friends lived their lives was humbling. I no longer have one of those bumper stickers.

One of the best ways to sidestep assumptions is simply to cultivate an essential skill: curiosity. When someone tells you they experienced racism, what’s your response? What is your gut-level reaction? Is it, “I’m sure it wasn’t racism. Joseph’s not like that, he’s a good guy!” Or, “Really? That’s terrible. If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.” Developing the curiosity reflex goes a long way toward opening doors, extending empathy, and building connections. Interactions where you let your mental models invalidate others’ experiences serve to close doors and fuel disconnection. So pay attention to what others are saying and your reactions. And when your opinions differ, assume for a moment the other person is right and ask them about their experiences and viewpoints. You don’t have to agree to be friends, but slowing the rush to disagreement and judgment goes a long way.

In her excellent book Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria, Beverly Tatum talks about how this dynamic works with children. Little children naturally play together across all racial and cultural differences. They notice the difference, but for the most part they don’t assign any meaning to them. Fast-forward to early high school. A black freshman, Seth, and white freshman, Jim, have been friends for years. They’ve been together since kindergarten, had sleepovers together, tried out for track and band. Early in the school year the English teacher, Mrs. Morris, asks her students to read passages from Dickens’ Great Expectations aloud. After Seth finishes, she comments, “Well done, Seth. You’re so articulate!”

Seth, taken aback, says to Jim at lunch, “Did you hear what Mrs. Morris just said? I think she’s totally racist!”

At that moment, Jim has a choice: ask, don’t assume, or the opposite, assume and don’t ask.

What Dr. Tatum points out in her book is that most youth, and most adults, take the second path. And it looks something like this:

“Mrs. Morris isn’t racist! She’s really nice. She’s always been really nice to me. I think you’re misinterpreting what she said.” Maybe he adds, “Don’t be so sensitive, she gave you a compliment!” Jim’s assumption is that his experience—Mrs. Morris has been nice to him—means that Seth’s interpretation is invalid and must be wrong. Yet Jim, as a young white man, has not had conversations with his family about how to navigate race in America, he’s never been given “the talk” that young black men receive, and his dinner table conversations are unlikely to be about how to navigate a biased society that is likely to assume he is less capable because he is white.

Seth, on the other hand, has grown up in an African American family with parents who came through the civil rights movement as children. They have memories of the South’s massive resistance to desegregation. And so they teach their children to pay attention to how they’re treated and to be wary of anyone who would discount their intellect or their gifts because of the color of their skin.

And so, with this gap in experience, a small statement begins to create a rift between friends who have very different lenses through which they see the world.

Meanwhile, Seth shares his experience with some of his black friends, who listen with empathy, and know how to ask good questions without assuming that he is wrong. And thus, the small step Jim makes in assuming his experience is right and Seth’s is wrong leads to a small fissure that eventually ends in the black and white kids sitting separately in the cafeteria, surrounded by people who share their experiences and know how to talk about them.

But it doesn’t have to go this way.

Jim could have said “Dude, that sucks!” or whatever kids say these days to indicate empathy. “But let me be honest, I don’t really get it. Help me understand.” By asking Seth to interpret his experience rather than assuming he understands already, Jim can build a bridge, not based on common experience, but rather based on common humanity that seeks to support others when they are hurting. Asking and suspending assumptions builds connections. Assumptions and judgment drive disconnection.

Our friend Andreas Addison has some interesting perspectives on how others’ assumptions about him have made his work of reducing poverty in Richmond, Virginia, more difficult than it needs to be. As a white man working for city hall, people made assumptions about him that were neither true nor helpful.

As part of my job working in city hall in Richmond, Virginia, with a self-proclaimed title of Civic Innovation, I’m focused on bringing best practices and new ways of thinking to how cities operate and how government can work with and for the people.

One of my first projects I was tasked with was defining “who is the poverty population of Richmond?” It was really interesting looking at the racial makeup of poverty in Richmond. It’s majority African American. And in that I was faced with a lot of racial undertones of just understanding who they are. People thought they knew what poverty was themselves, because they identified as African Americans, thus anything with the poor they could relate to because they themselves are black and they could say they knew what was going on. And I feel like that discredited me. And I remember facing that battle frequently, where it was, “I can’t talk about poverty because I’m not black.”

And it became an argument for myself, because I grew up poor. I grew up in a very rural part of Virginia where my parents were on food stamps for a while, my dad was unemployed, and we were really struggling to make ends meet month to month. I can relate to the struggles and challenges of being poor, but of course that was in a rural setting. I don’t know what it’s like being poor and African American in an urban setting, but I do know what it’s like to be poor. And while I can’t identify with the racial elements that create further separation, it doesn’t mean I can’t relate to it or I don’t want to know how that works. I feel that that’s what Richmond showed me.

I will never know what it’s like to be poor AND black. That was one of the things I had to embrace. My experience is mine, but I also disagree with the fact that just because you’re African American you know how to help those that are poor. I find that there’s this battle with “who am I visibly and who am I internally?” I had to overcome my past, my parents, where I came from, but also because of who I am visibly, people automatically put me in a bucket.

This past year I worked on a health-care project with Code for America and the Richmond Health Department. One of the coolest parts about walking into the community resources center in Creighton Court and just being able to talk with anybody was knowing that I needed to dress down, be approachable, and have to actually initiate the conversation, saying, “I don’t know what you’re dealing with, but I want to learn, because I want to help.” They want to hear that I hear what they’re saying and there’s a value to that. I came back once a month for eight months to show that I’m in this for the long haul. With that I think there’s an approachability. I found that a lot of these people who live in these courts are huggers.

In an organizational context, the interrogative approach can be used to coach people and help them grow professionally and as individuals. Telling people what to do and assuming what they may think are both traps. People can easily resent an authority figure who purports to know it all. Asking open-ended, nonjudgmental questions empowers people to find their own solutions and to think critically. Executive coaches, teachers, and counselors use this technique to take people off the defensive and acknowledge the other person’s value.

Tiffany struggled with this concept until she sought executive coaching certification.

I am a person who wants to solve problems. I want to get to the root of an issue and fix it. Unfortunately, when dealing with people, one cannot assume that everyone wants to have their problems fixed. It has taken me a very long time to believe that some people just want to be heard, supported, and sometimes comforted. I used to assume that if someone shared a problem with me, they were tacitly asking for advice. Lots of people do come to me for advice, but I have had to learn the difference between a solicitation for advice and someone who just wants a sounding board. Becoming a certified professional coach was challenging. I had to let go of my long-held assumptions about human motivation. I used to be under the impression that executive coaches and counselors gave advice. Now I understand that we empower our clients to find solutions themselves. We can hold them accountable to their stated goals, reflect what we see back at them, and celebrate their victories. What we cannot do is tell them what to do or how to do it—no matter how obvious the solution may seem or how tempting the situation. Coaches have to get out of the way and let their clients do the work.

We had the pleasure of meeting two amazing researchers who developed a tool to help you understand why asking is important and to help you get more comfortable doing so. (Don’t) Guess My Race was created by Michael Baran and Michael Handelman, cofounders of Interactive Diversity Solutions. Michael Baran, PhD, is a cultural anthropologist who has researched issues related to race and diversity for 20 years. He has taught courses on these subjects at Harvard University and the University of Michigan and consults for businesses and schools around race-related issues. Michael Handelman has been creating educational interactive multimedia for the past 14 years. He has produced and designed over 100 products with combined sales of over 50 million units. Several of these products have won awards such as the Educational Toy of the Year, Children’s Technology Review All Star Award, and Parents’ Choice Gold Seal.

Using this program can be effective because it is based on social science research that decreases implicit bias while increasing cultural understanding and empathy. Use it to actively disconfirm stereotypes as mentioned in the fourth condition of contact theory in chapter 2.

Ask, don’t assume. Simple in concept, difficult in real life. But with practice, this essential skill can stop bias dead in its tracks—by not even letting your bias come out of your mouth in the first place! And by showing genuine interest in others’ experiences through well-crafted questions, you are well on your way to building an authentic relationship.

CALL TO ACTION

Question your beliefs and opinions. Why do you believe what you do? Take a moment to distinguish assumptions from facts and identify the origin of your assumptions.