The author is founder of Speaking of Mental Health LLC. He is a professional speaker specializing in workplace mental health and communication. He spent his early career in broadcast engineering and technology training; he was chief engineer of KLRU(TV), frequency coordination director for the Society of Broadcast Engineers and general manager of Azcar Training Systems.
“But we’re in the communication business!”
We have all heard (or said) those words. Usually after something has gone wrong. What was it, exactly, that wasn’t communicated?
Perhaps it was technical information. Or a revised procedure.
But very often, I have found what is not communicated may be something of a personal nature. A clue to how someone is reacting to the stresses of an ever-changing work environment.
Maybe things aren’t as “Fine” as we claim. And when we pretend everything is fine, our mental health pays a price.
We all know it’s a stressful time to be in broadcasting. The industry, and the landscape it serves, is changing perhaps more rapidly than at any time in our careers. How do you see that affecting you? And equally important, whom are you able to talk to about that?
I know about communication challenges. By the time I was four or five years old (a decade before my first job in radio), I had acquired a hearing impairment due to scar tissue from multiple infections. As a result, I was communication-challenged. I often misheard what was being said to me and around me. My replies to what I thought I heard were sometimes inappropriate. So how did the caring adults around me respond?
“David, just keep your mouth shut.”
They weren’t being mean. They just wanted to help me avoid embarrassment.
But whatever their intent, the message stayed with me: Remain silent.
That is why I sometimes tell my audiences, “I am the least likely person to be standing here speaking to you.”
It took me a long time and a lot of work (not to mention surgery and hearing aids) to arrive at a point where I could speak up with confidence.
Perhaps you have had your own “Keep your mouth shut” moments. I suspect most of us have, for one reason or another. Someone taught you that silence was safer than speaking.
Through countless experiences across many settings, we have learned which questions, doubts, emotions, and vulnerabilities are acceptable to voice. By the time we arrive at work, we’ve had decades of training in when to keep our mouths shut. Yes, even some of us who are paid to use our mouths!
But what is the price we pay for our silence?
What is the price our organizations pay?
What are the conversations that need to take place that are being shut down before they can start?
Organizational culture has a lot to do with what people feel safe talking about. An organization’s culture can either enable or suppress the conversations people most need to have.
Speaking up when things are hard is not the go-to choice for most people.
I know.
In late 2000, I was managing the biggest project of my career up to that point. I thought I had to have all the answers, so I powered through on my own. I went far too long feeling the darkness closing in on me before I finally made the call that led to a diagnosis of major depressive disorder. Before I reached the point where the pain of staying where I was exceeded the pain of speaking up and risking change.
Fortunately, I did reach out, and I did get help. That professional help set me on a path of healing that I am still walking today.
Still, damage was done because I did not seek help sooner. The problems with the project had developed while I stayed silent, and the full reckoning came afterward: an angry customer, lost goodwill, a damaged relationship with the boss, and a six-figure loss. Ultimately, I paid by walking away from that job.
That is the price of not speaking up, for me and for the organization.
I was not the only one in that story who stayed silent. Looking back, I believe the people closest to me on the project must have noticed how I was responding to the stress. There were flashes of anger and frustration.
I don’t know whether they reached my boss, but I suspect he sensed that something was wrong. He valued my competence so highly that I was reluctant to reveal weakness. I didn’t know how to reach out for help. He, I think, didn’t know how to ask.
What I needed was for him to make it safe to say, “I am in over my head and don’t know what to do.” The clues were there. The conversation was not.
To lessen the chances of such damage, there are steps that leaders can take within their organizations to make it safer for difficult conversations to take place. Culture is not a poster on the wall. It reflects the day-to-day actions of everyone in positions of responsibility. Here are three of those actions.
First, notice, and ask. Persistent irritability, flashes of anger, or a change in how someone handles pressure are clues. You don’t need to diagnose anything. A sincere “How are you doing, really?” opens a door, but only if the person believes it’s safe to walk through. That may be hardest for the people you rely on most. Make it clear that admitting “I’m in over my head” will not cost them your respect.
Second, listen. Listen attentively and non-judgmentally when concerns are brought to your attention. If you are a leader and someone comes to you with a concern, know that others are watching to see what happens next. Does their colleague come away feeling heard and valued? If not, why would the next person risk speaking up?
And third, reinforce all of this by modeling vulnerable conversations yourself. A leader who admits to not having all the answers takes that weight off everyone else. I have worked with organizations whose leaders have turned to video to record personal messages to the whole company, describing some part of their own journey (because everyone is on a journey) and underscoring the organization’s commitment to wholeness and wellbeing. When employees see their leaders in a new light, there is an almost palpable mood shift. There is so much power in learning, “I am not alone.”
When leadership takes steps like these, they are sending a message. They are signaling that they know workplace mental health is not an occasional HR initiative, but a leadership responsibility.
They are saying, “Don’t just keep your mouth shut. You can tell me you’re in over your head. You are speaking into a place of safety here. You will be heard.” And that can make all the difference.
We are, after all, in the communication business.
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