I know — I mentioned the word “politics,” so I will have a rash of unsubscribes. And I get it; we’ve been told not to talk politics at work. And sure, in many — heck, most — cases, that advice can help avoid unnecessary conflict. But what happens when political decisions directly impact your team’s mission — and your ability to serve your community?
That was the case with a non-profit organization I work with. A significant portion of their operating budget comes from Federal funding, and it was on the chopping block of the Big Beautiful Bill. The team needed to prepare for potential cuts that could affect thousands of families. But instead of having the conversation about what to do next if the cuts went through, the room filled with silence.
Why? Because some team members openly supported the political figure connected to those funding cuts — and the others didn’t.
Everyone wanted to be respectful. No one wanted to point fingers or blame. But in their effort to avoid offense, they also avoided the hard, necessary work of naming reality. In that silence, resentment simmered. Misunderstandings grew. And no one felt safe — not even the people the others were trying so hard to protect.
Here’s the thing: ignoring the elephant in the room doesn’t make it go away. It just leaves us wondering what that smell is — and no way to deal with it. No one feels free to talk about what matters. And when trust breaks down, collaboration suffers.
So what’s the alternative?
We name it. Gently, but clearly.
“Hey, let’s be clear and honest. Not everyone in this room is in agreement about the national players who have put us in this budgetary situation, and that’s okay. That’s what makes this country already great. We don’t need to agree. We need to respect those differences. We aren’t here to condemn one another for the actions of the Feds. Or question who voted for whom. Or debate whether the potential cuts are fair. That doesn’t matter, and those topics are way beyond our control. There is no blame or judgment for anyone in this room. Period.
“Regardless of who voted for whom, we are potentially going to lose 65% of our funding. If that happens, what do we do? That’s the question before us. And we need to have this conversation about our funding and our future, regardless of why we are here. How can we do that with mutual respect, clarity, and kindness?”
It’s about owning the discomfort, not avoiding it.
It’s about creating brave space — not just safe space. And it starts with believing that people who disagree can still work together, care about each other, and build something meaningful.
My best friend and I are on those opposite sides of the political spectrum, and we would do anything for each other. Heck, we bound ourselves on a 16-foot sailboat for hours shortly after learning that the National Guard might be deployed on Portland streets. And we lived to tell the tale and have beers afterwards.
At our civilian level, our objective should be civility. And as I am fond of saying, acceptance is not agreement. We don’t need to agree with each other on everything in order to accept each other and our worth, our value, and our humanity.
We can do that in our friendships, our families, our teams… But only if we’re willing to talk. And at work, the secret lies in focusing on the problem at hand, not the circumstances beyond our control that put us there.
In the case of my client, if everyone in the room had voted the same way, they would still have the same funding problem. So, solve the problem. Respect the person.
Photo by Khashayar Kouchpeydeh on Unsplash
