How to find your voice and self-advocate, even if you’re conflict-avoidant

Self-advocacy can feel like a challenge, especially if you’re conflict-avoidant, culturally conditioned to prioritize group harmony, or simply unsure how to speak up without fear of being labeled “difficult.”

In this article + podcast episode, we’ll explore how to advocate for yourself effectively while balancing cultural expectations, professional norms, and personal boundaries.

I’m talking with Neelu Kaur, who brings her unique expertise to the discussion. With a business degree and a master’s in Social & Organizational Psychology, along with her experience as a coach and master practitioner certified in NeuroLinguistic Programming, Yoga, and Ayurveda, Neelu has a really unique and comprehensive framework for tackling this topic.

Unlike the vast majority of my guests, she is not someone I met online or through my other work with educators. Neelu Kaur is one of my yoga teachers at the local studio where I practice!  I noticed her book displayed in the lobby of the yoga studio one day, and the title caught my attention. It’s called Be Your Own Cheerleader: An Asian and South Asian Woman’s Cultural, Psychological, and Spiritual Guide to Self-Promote at Work.

Thumbing through it, I could see that Neelu’s message was going to be relevant for me, even though I’m not part of her target demographic, and I immediately thought about you all, and how many of you might need this message. I bought a copy and absolutely devoured it the next day at a local cafe, taking copious notes on things I wanted her to address with you.

And interestingly, as I formed the questions for the interview, I realized that her perspective is needed here not only for us to learn how to self-advocate, but also to share how we can support students who come from home cultures that deprioritize individual identities to focus on the collective.

As you’ll hear throughout this conversation, I had a number of a-ha moments when new things clicked for me about the way students from these cultures perform in school and how we can support them more deeply.

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ANGELA: So, Neelu, your book and your work really emphasize the importance of self-advocacy. How do you define self-advocacy, and why is it important?
NEELU: I define self-advocacy as speaking up, speaking out, and sharing your ideas. And I have worked in this space through the lens of work, but I believe it absolutely. The same skills, the same principles are applicable at home personally as well.

Growing up in a collectivist culture

Definitely. You wrote a lot in your book about what it was like growing up in your home culture, which is a term that I feel like. I don’t know if they use that outside of schools, but a lot of times in schools we talk about home cultures versus school cultures. And you wrote that self-identity was not cultivated or encouraged. The emphasis was on harmony, sharing of resources, and readiness to give up personal interest for the collective interest. We are expected to embrace and reside in the we and dim the light on the I. And I thought that was really powerful phrasing. I would love to hear more about what it was like growing up and being raised within a collectivist culture with these kinds of values.

Yeah, so my family is from India—I’m Indian. I was born in India and raised in the U.S. And India is just one example of a collective culture.

There are many other cultures that emphasize collectivism—Asian cultures, Latin cultures, African cultures, Middle Eastern cultures. In these societies, the we is prioritized over the I. Everything is about the group. Confrontation is often avoided because it can bring shame to the collective. You see yourself as part of a unit rather than as an individual operating independently.

In North America, by contrast, the focus is much more on the individual and the nuclear family. We may have extended family, but they typically aren’t involved in our everyday decisions or daily life in the same way. In many collective cultures, however, even if extended family members don’t live in the same home, they are still deeply involved in day-to-day matters. There is a much stronger we-based mindset that shapes how decisions are made and how people interact.

One of the things that you mentioned in the book was that you weren’t even taught to say “these are my toys”. You and your brother. It was our toys, right?

Yes, I remember saying that to my dad once. I said, “This is my toy.” And he immediately corrected me: “No, these are our toys.”

Everything was about sharing, about group harmony—to the point where, for example, I remember visiting my family once and we all went out to dinner. I looked at the menu and said, “I would like this.”

My dad just gave me a look and said, “Well, it’s for the whole table.”

I love to share—I always have—but in that moment, something felt different. I wanted something for me. But that wasn’t how things worked. The expectation was clear: We order for the whole table.

That moment reinforced what I had always known—harmony is more important than individual preferences or desires. The focus wasn’t on what I wanted but on the shared experience we were all having together. And contributing to that shared experience meant setting aside personal preferences for the good of the group.

That’s such a great illustration of this concept because it trickles down to even the smallest ways of being that we don’t really think about. For a typical American child to go to a restaurant and choose what they want to order, of course, they would choose. Unless you’re going to what we would call a family-style restaurant. And then you have to come to a consensus. But in general, that’s not how we do things. And I imagine that must have been a huge culture shift for you when coming to school.

Cultural differences in school experiences

In your book you wrote, outside the home, the emphasis in school was on self-sufficiency, independence, and the placement of self-interest over the collective interest. And I would love to hear about what your experience was like as a student because I think that can give us a really helpful lens into how school is experienced by our students from AAPI households. And then the other cultures you mentioned that emphasize collectivism.

I remember one of my teachers asked me one day after school, “So, Neelu, what do you want to be when you grow up?” And I was like, What do you mean? I have a choice?

It had never even occurred to me that I had a choice because, especially as immigrants, it’s all about survival. The question is, What can you do to make money quicker? Because it’s all about survival.

I know this has shifted depending on how many generations your family has been in North America. Perhaps the focus isn’t as intense. But in AAPI culture, it was all about medicine, law, business, and accounting—careers that would generate income quickly. I know that being in med school isn’t exactly a quick return on investment, but families still saw it as a long-term return on your education. For immigrants, everything is quantified from a financial perspective. When you’re in hustle mode, survival takes precedence.

When my parents came to the U.S., they worked three or four jobs each. Their focus was on setting up their kids for success so that we wouldn’t have to experience the financial struggles they endured.

So when my teachers would ask me, “What would you like to be?” I didn’t even realize I had a choice. I just assumed I would fall into one of the same categories as everyone around me. The options were clear: You can be a lawyer. You can be a doctor. You can be an accountant. You can be in business. Engineering was also an option, but I wasn’t good at math or science, so that was automatically off the table for me. But the idea was that there were these set professions—structured paths that led to financial security.

And then teachers would ask me, “What do you love to do?”

Well, I loved writing. I remember getting published in this little school newsletter. I was so excited—I ran home to tell my mom. I showed her the newsletter, and she said, “What? You want to be a writer?”

Like, it was just so taboo. It was something she couldn’t even comprehend.

And there’s no right or wrong. I’m not saying it’s good or bad. It’s just the worldview you grow up with when you’re an immigrant and constantly thinking about setting your children up for success. You want to make sure they’re in careers where they’re going to earn money quickly.

That’s such a great way to distinguish things. We’re not talking about right or wrong here —because both cultures have their pros and cons. And as we’ll get into more, it’s not about changing either culture. It’s about figuring out how to thrive within both of them.

Navigating Cultural Tensions in School and Work

You talked about the tension between how you’ve learned to navigate the expectations at home and the expectations in school, later on in higher education, and eventually the workplace. And there’s a phrase that you wrote that I just thought was so profound. You said you wrote that you found yourself “uncomfortable with confrontation, plus unable to speak up for yourself, plus constantly worried about the perspective of others, which equaled a huge fail in corporate America.”

I have been downsized so many times. And I don’t think it was because I lacked brilliant ideas or intelligence. It was simply because I didn’t know how to speak up and share my ideas. Someone else would take credit for them, and I didn’t know how to jump back into the conversation.

When you come from a collective culture where you’re taught to stay under the radar, this becomes second nature. My parents would actually say things like, “This isn’t our country, so you really want to stay under the radar. Just do what you need to do to succeed.”

When that’s the behavior modeled for you and it becomes your way of being, it can be a major disadvantage in corporate America. If you’re just doing good work and keeping your head down — without advocating for yourself — people will actually assume you’re disengaged. Even though you may be excelling, if you’re not making your contributions visible, you won’t get recognition. I learned that the hard way.

After my last downsizing in 2013, I started my own practice. Since then, I’ve coached and trained thousands of professionals, and I’ve realized there’s a common thread. Even if you don’t come from a collective culture, you might still struggle with self-advocacy if you’re introverted, neurodivergent, or deeply focused on your work.

I see this all the time with people in tech—they just want to code. They want to sit down, do their job, and be left alone. But in corporate America, that’s not enough. It’s not enough to simply be good at what you do. You also have another job: advocating for yourself.

Because if people don’t know what you’re doing, they won’t recognize your contributions. And worse, they may perceive your silence as disengagement, even when the reality is the exact opposite.

Applying self-advocacy skills to careers in education

Yeah, I think that’s true in teaching as well. There are a lot of folks who just want to be good teachers. They don’t want to have to present in a certain way or make sure that people know what they’re doing. But like you said, folks can take credit for your accomplishments, and if you ever want to move into a leadership role, you’ve got to be comfortable drawing attention to yourself, which could be really uncomfortable for a lot of people.

I actually work with a lot of people who say they don’t want a leadership role, they just want to be subject matter experts. But even then, you still need to advocate for yourself if you want to get a raise, if you want to get a promotion. In most organizations, they don’t allow you to stand still and just be in one position forever. There’s this expectation that you’re going to progress in some way, whether you’re in a leadership role or you’re just climbing the ranks as a subject matter expert. But I do think self-advocacy is another full-time job in, at least in my space in corporate America.

And I would love to hear from you from an education perspective for teachers.

Don’t draw attention to yourself. Put other people’s needs before yours, especially in a helping profession. You’re supposed to be there for the kids. It’s not about you. You should be willing to sacrifice everything for students.

Yeah, it’s so fascinating because even if you don’t come from a collective culture or weren’t raised by parents from one, there are still so many messages we absorb—especially as women—through the behaviors modeled to us by other women growing up.

Or you could have been raised in a small town in the U.S., where the unspoken rule is: Stay humble, keep your head down, don’t draw attention to yourself.

And you could simply be a woman raised in a more patriarchal family structure, where these skills—speaking up, advocating for yourself, making your contributions visible—were not encouraged or actively taught. They don’t always come naturally.

So what happens? The people who are confident in self-advocacy—who tend to be men, often men from dominant cultures, and men with certain personality types—get the attention. They move into leadership. And ultimately, they shape workplace and societal culture, leaving the rest of us on the outside.

External Versus Internal Motivation

Your book also talks about your experience in teaching and coaching Asian and South Asian women, and how you noticed a pattern of external motivation — particularly among those raised by immigrant or first-generation parents from Asia.

The idea is that career decisions are often made with the goal of pleasing others, rather than based on personal interests or passions. As you mentioned earlier, there’s a strong emphasis on choosing a path that aligns with family expectations and financial security.

You compare this to the dominant American culture, where fewer people weigh in on career choices, and individuals are taught from a young age to rely on themselves. Self-sufficiency is a core value, so people grow up learning to trust their own opinions and instincts.

But if you’re not raised in that kind of environment, you don’t naturally develop that same internal compass. So I’m wondering—can you speak to the difference between external and internal motivation, and how you personally learned to trust yourself?

Yeah. So, as I mentioned, in many collective cultures, the concept of family extends beyond just the immediate household. Even if extended family members don’t live in the home, they still play a significant role in decision-making. Traditionally, joint families were the norm, with multiple generations living together under one roof. While that has changed in some places, especially in larger cities, the influence of extended family remains strong.

Even if you don’t live with them, your extended family still impacts your choices—they’re part of your family unit.

Because of that, it often felt like there were always a lot of cooks in the kitchen. In North America, by contrast, decision-making tends to revolve around just the nuclear family. It’s a much smaller unit, which means decisions are often made more independently.

That difference translates into how people develop their sense of motivation. When you grow up with external influences shaping most of your decisions, it can be difficult to trust your own judgment. For example, when I go into a fitting room to try on clothes, I often don’t immediately trust my own opinion. Instead of looking in the mirror and deciding for myself, I feel the need to ask someone else, “How does this look?” If a friend isn’t with me, I’ll send a picture. I sometimes feel like I just can’t trust my own judgment.

I believe that comes from growing up with so many external inputs. Even though it was just me and my nuclear family in the U.S., culturally, we still relied on multiple perspectives when making decisions. Over time, that conditioning led to a habit of seeking validation before feeling confident in my choices.

As adults, this tendency translates into needing data, stats, and additional confirmation before making decisions. We don’t just trust our instincts—we need supporting evidence.

People who are internally motivated seem to have an internal compass guiding them. They instinctively know when something is right or wrong. But when you’re externally motivated, it’s not about being indecisive—it’s about needing additional perspectives before feeling sure. More input, more data, more feedback.

And again, there’s no right or wrong way to be. It’s just how we’ve been shaped.

For me, the shift happened over time. With more experience under my belt, I started to develop an internal sense of trust. I began to recognize, “Okay, I know what I’m doing. I’m good at this.” I could give a speech or teach a class and walk away knowing I had done a great job — without needing external validation.

But in the early stages of my career, I didn’t have that confidence. If I didn’t receive feedback from my manager or team, I immediately assumed I had done something wrong. In reality, I hadn’t done anything wrong—I just needed to trust my gut a little more.

I’ve noticed this same pattern among many people from Asian cultures. There’s often a strong need for external input—whether that’s through research, data, or gathering others’ opinions—before making a decision. But at some point, it can become too much. You get stuck in analysis paralysis, constantly seeking validation instead of moving forward.

On the other hand, people who are more internally motivated sometimes need to learn how to gather external input and not assume they are always right.

So it’s all about balance. Neither approach is inherently better or worse—it’s about understanding where you fall on the spectrum and adjusting based on the context. You might be internally motivated in your personal life, but externally motivated at work. Recognizing those differences and deciding when and how much external input you really need can be incredibly helpful in navigating decisions with more confidence.

Cultural expectations for intrinsic vs extrinsic motivation

That’s important to think about because, in school, we really emphasize internal motivation. We want kids to do their work without needing external rewards. We want them to be inherently motivated, to be self-driven.

But I’m realizing now what a cultural bias that is—some people aren’t naturally like that. And yet, we tend to value internal motivation above all else.

Students who seek confirmation, affirmation, or more information before making a decision are often seen as less ideal than those who are totally internally driven, confident in their thinking, and able to move forward without much direction. We glorify self-sufficiency and independence, assuming that’s the gold standard of motivation.

But that mindset doesn’t always serve us. And more importantly, it doesn’t always reflect who our students are or the home cultures they bring into the classroom. That’s something we need to be more mindful of.

Right? That’s such a great point. A teacher might look at a student and think, Oh, this child isn’t intrinsically motivated. But in reality, the child is highly motivated—they’re just seeking additional information before making a decision.

So it’s not necessarily about intrinsic vs. extrinsic motivation. It’s about how some students feel secure when they gather more data, input, or guidance before taking action.

Yeah, yeah, it does. That’s a big light bulb moment for me. 

Balancing “we” and “I” cultures

Let’s talk more about these strategies and how to navigate both worlds. In your book, you pose an important question: When you come from a “we” culture, how do you become comfortable and thrive in an “I” culture? One approach you recommend is the concept of being “a part of and apart from.” How does that work?

Okay, so let’s say you’re part of a group working on a team project. You are a part of that team, contributing to the collective effort. But you also need to be apart from that team at times — because that’s what’s going to help you in your career. That’s what will make a difference when you’re in a performance review conversation, trying to get a promotion, or advocating for a raise.

You’re still engaged with the group—it’s not about taking credit for others’ work. It’s about making sure your contributions don’t get lost in the collective. You’re drawing attention to the things you’ve done, so your individual input is recognized.

That makes sense. But what does that look like in practice? Let’s say there’s a collaborative effort or a team project—how can someone practice being both a part of and apart from?

Let’s say you’re in a meeting, and your team is working toward a key milestone or deliverable. Everything is on track, and then something gets derailed. This is an opportunity to step away from the team while still supporting it.

For example, if you anticipated a challenge and did some research on how to get things back on schedule, this is your moment to speak up. You can say, “I noticed this potential roadblock and did some research on solutions to keep us on track.”

This allows your voice to be heard in a way that contributes to the group’s success while also highlighting your initiative. And it’s done in a way that isn’t boastful or obnoxious—it’s simply making sure your individual effort is acknowledged.

So you’re reinforcing that you’re part of the team while also establishing yourself as someone who takes ownership and contributes unique value. That’s a skill that’s essential in corporate America—and, honestly, in most workplaces.

That sounds like a valuable practice in general, and definitely something we should be teaching students, too. We see the same thing happening in group projects—there’s always one student who takes over and does all the work, or one who dominates the discussion and pressures others into submission.

And then there are other students who have great ideas and contributions, but they don’t speak up. They’re overshadowed by more assertive personalities, so they end up staying quiet.

Right. And over time, that student might start to believe, Oh, my opinion doesn’t matter. It becomes a downward spiral.

The same thing happens in the workplace. If someone doesn’t feel like they have space to interject, they start assuming their voice isn’t valuable. And if that pattern continues, they stop speaking up altogether.

Yes. And that’s why we need to be intentional about interrupting that pattern. Thinking about how to be a part of and apart from can help us find that balance between collaboration and self-advocacy.

Shifting from problem-framed to outcome-framed questions

Another strategy you suggest in the book is to move from problem-framed questions to outcome-framed questions. And that’s a really important mindset piece. Mindset stuff is my jam. I would love to have you share more about that.

Yeah. So problem-framed questions are almost judgy and accusatory. For example, we might ask:

“Whose fault is it?”
“Who did this?”
“Why is this happening to me?”

These kinds of questions put us in a defensive, blaming mindset. In contrast, outcome-framed questions shift us into problem-solving mode. Instead, we can ask:

“Who can I ask for help?”
“How can I learn what I need to do to get back on track?”
“What else do I need to know about this situation?”

You can probably even feel the difference between the two sets of questions. Problem-framed thinking can feel constricting and tense. In contrast, outcome-framed thinking opens the door to curiosity and opportunities for learning.

They’re much more solution-focused, and you can probably even viscerally feel the difference between the two sets. Like the problem-frame, it’s like you might even feel a tightness in your body, feel constricted. Whereas when you’re in an outcome-frame, you’re curious and you’re looking for opportunities where you can learn to do things differently, versus a problem-frame where you’re in a judger mindset.

And that’s not easy to do, to flip the switch in the moment, but the awareness of being able to do that is really helpful. I have strategies that I go through, and when you’re on that path, it’s like, how do you break that or interrupt that pattern so that you can move into sort of this learner outcome-frame question mindset?

That’s essential to self-advocacy because how can you advocate for yourself when you’re being judgmental of yourself or of others, really?

And it starts with us. We are our worst critics. So we’re going to be the first ones to say, “Oh, I should have done this”, or “Why didn’t I speak up in the last meeting? Why didn’t I get that promotion?” So we’re always looking at the things that we did first instead of thinking about, “Okay, who can I ask for support so that I can make sure I interrupt the meeting next time? Or how do I do this? Who can I learn from?

It’s just more open, it’s more curious. I think the underlying theme of outcome-frame is just that you have a curiosity to do things differently, and you’re not blaming yourself, and you’re not blaming others.

Practicing non-attachment

So we’ve talked about “a part of and apart from,” and we’ve talked about moving from problem-framed questions to outcome-framed questions. Another strategy you recommend is practicing non-attachment. How does that factor into self-advocacy, juxtaposing these two different worlds and cultures, and being your own cheerleader?

I’m sure you’ve heard about Mel Robbins’ new book, Let Them.

Yes!

It’s like I’m listening to the audiobook on repeat. But it’s a similar concept—you put in the effort, but you can only control you.

Once you do the work—whether it’s collaborating on a project, submitting an application, or writing something—you have to release it. At that point, the control is out of your hands. It’s in the world now, and you have to wait and see what happens.

The key piece of non-attachment comes from Buddhism. You put your best foot forward, but you cannot control the uncontrollables—namely, other people.

I love the way Mel Robbins framed it: Let them do what they do. Your power lies in what you do.

So when it comes to self-advocacy, absolutely—advocate for yourself. Speak up in the meeting. Make your voice heard. But after that? Detach from the outcome. You don’t know how others will respond. You don’t control the final decision. You only control your own actions.

You also mentioned something related to this—that our goals don’t have to end with a period or an exclamation point, but with a comma. The goal is to practice non-attachment to whatever comes after the comma. Can you explain how that works?

Yeah. To me, punctuation marks like periods or exclamation points feel final — like a hard stop.

But we, as humans, are constantly evolving. One of my spiritual teachers said that on any given day, your goals might look different than they did a month ago — or even a week ago.

For example, let’s say on January 22nd, you set a goal. By February 22nd, your perspective might have shifted entirely.

The comma represents fluidity—the ability to adjust, refine, or even completely change course.

This happens all the time with New Year’s resolutions. Someone might set a rigid goal, like “I want to lose 100 pounds.” But a month later, they might realize that’s not actually the healthiest or most meaningful goal for them.

That’s why I see the comma as a symbol of self-compassion. It reminds us that we don’t have to be locked into an old version of what we thought we wanted.

Because life is unpredictable. We are allowed to change. And practicing non-attachment means accepting that what we once desired might no longer serve us — and that’s okay.

The power of the pause

I think of the comma as a pause, too. It’s that place where you take a breath. And so often we move from one goal to the next. A lot of times in education, the goalposts are being moved on you. You achieve 80% student proficiency in this thing, and it’s like, “Okay, great, now 85%.” It’s like, “Wait a sec, I didn’t even get to take a chance to recognize all of my hard work, all of my students’ hard work, everything that we’ve accomplished.”

We need that pause, that comma before we move immediately on to the next thing and try to predict exactly what that next thing is going to be. Because we don’t know.

Yeah. And we do that. We don’t take a beat. And I think it’s so important because even with our mindset, right, usually we’re ruminating about the past or catastrophizing about the future. And the comma is really a beat which allows you to ground into the present moment, where it’s like, “Okay, I just completed that 80%, and I need to give myself a pat on the back, so I have the personal agency to then do the other 5% or strive for that 100%.”

But again, yeah, I think you’re spot on with that pause and beat and just grounding into the present moment.

Overcoming conflict avoidance

The everyday acts of self-advocacy

And, you know, when you gave that example about being honest with your husband about the kind of food you wanted, it really resonated with me. I think of myself as a highly opinionated person, and I don’t have a problem saying what I want. But in those kinds of situations, I tend to take on the emotional labor of being the easy person.

Especially if there’s more than one person involved, I’ll default to saying, “Whatever you guys want, it’s fine.” And then later, I catch myself thinking, Angela, why don’t you just say what you want? Why don’t you just suggest a restaurant you like and see if they’re on board?

Because the truth is, no one wants to be the one to decide what’s for dinner. It’s tedious to go back and forth, trying to figure it out. If someone just steps in and says, “Hey, here’s a great restaurant. It has something for everyone—how about we go there?” that’s not being difficult or confrontational. That’s actually being helpful. It’s providing a solution.

But my default is still to say, “Oh, I’ll just go along with whatever.”

Exactly. And honestly, it can be annoying to the people around you.

Yeah. I’ve had friends actually call me out on it and say, “You know, you’re doing that again.”

And I’ll be like, “Doing what?”

And they’ll say, “People pleasing.”

And I’ll insist, “No, no, I’m just being flexible. It’s just one meal. It’s not a big deal.”

And it is just one meal. It’s not the end of the world. But the bigger issue is that this pattern repeats in other areas of life. It’s a muscle. If you practice speaking up in these small, everyday moments—whether or not your suggestion is taken—that’s not the point. The point is that you’re building the habit of advocating for yourself.

And when you practice in these low-stakes situations, you make it easier to do the bigger things — like walking into your boss’s office on Monday morning and saying, “I need the school to cover these supplies instead of paying for them out of pocket.”

Right. How could we expect ourselves to advocate for resources at work when we won’t even speak up about what we want for dinner or what TV show we want to watch?

Exactly. Exactly. Exactly.

Overcoming the fear of being labeled as “difficult”

What about the fear of being labeled as difficult or too assertive? I know that can hold people back, especially women of color. How can individuals frame these fears to feel more confident?

When you’re worried that people are going to think you’re difficult, I actually want to flip that completely on its head and say that when you advocate for yourself and become your own cheerleader, it is one of the most unselfish acts you can do. You are literally leaving a trail for the people behind you who look like you and may face the same challenges.

For a teacher, think about all the little kids in your classroom who are watching you. They’re going to remember you. Hopefully, they’re going to remember you. I still remember teachers from grade school who impacted me. And that’s what you’re doing—you’re carving a path for the kids who see themselves in you, or who identify with a part of your story, and you’re leaving a trail that shows them what’s possible.

By advocating for yourself, you’re modeling a behavior that they can take beyond school. They can take it home. They can carry it into their lives as adults. And that’s why I believe that self-advocacy—something we often think of as an individual act—is actually one of the most collective acts a person can do.

I have full-body chills right now from this idea of leaving—how did you phrase it? The trail that you’re leaving behind you for others to follow.

Yes.

And if you are a woman of color, think about all the students in your classroom. You are carving a path for those kids who aren’t part of the dominant culture. And when you advocate for yourself — when you get the resources you need to be the best teacher you can be — you are showing those kids how to do the same for themselves. And that’s a skill every student needs, regardless of gender, race, or ethnicity.

I’m also thinking about the impact on colleagues. Because so much of school culture is shaped by the unwritten rule to keep your head down, don’t draw attention to yourself, don’t make waves. When people step outside of that, they risk being blackballed, labeled as difficult, seen as stirring the pot, or making things hard for others.

But when someone steps up and advocates in a way that is constructive, they give other people permission to do the same. They shift those norms one teacher at a time. If someone on your team is advocating for themselves, that’s a model you can follow.

And when you think about it that way, self-advocacy becomes something deeply unselfish. It’s not just about you—it’s about shifting the entire culture of a school, one action at a time.

Yeah. So for those of us who are uncomfortable stepping into the “I” space, if you think about it, yes, you’re advocating for your raise, your promotion, your classroom resources. But you’re also doing it for the collective good.

Other teachers are watching. Students are watching. You are becoming a role model just by advocating for yourself in a way that others can learn from and follow.

Advocating for resources in a constructive way

So how do you do that? What would you say if you’re going to your boss and you’re saying, “I don’t have sufficient planning time to prepare for these lessons because my planning time keeps getting taken away”? A lot of times that happens—like, you’re supposed to have this time, but you end up covering for someone else, or a teacher is absent, or something comes up. So you don’t have the time you need to do your job well. You want to bring that up. How could you do that in a way that advocates for yourself constructively, without being confrontational or sounding like a complainer?

You know, I think when we go to people in leadership roles and we’re asking for something—whether it’s time, money, resources—we want to come in with a solution mindset. So yes, there are reasons why I need more time. I’m happy to share them if you want those details, but here’s my proposal.

Like, this is what I can do to get back on track, or whatever the issue is. Because maybe that leader doesn’t need all the details, and if you start by listing them out, it can sound like making excuses. Instead, you can say, “There are three reasons why. I’m happy to share if you’re interested. And also, here’s my proposal.”

That’s really good. It mirrors a lot of the advice I give to teachers: Come with solutions. Don’t expect your leader to come up with one for you because, first of all, that’s asking them to do extra work. And second, you might not like the solution they come up with.

Exactly. They don’t know all of your needs.

So instead of just presenting the problem, think, What specific solution would actually help me? Maybe it’s something like, “Instead of attending the staff meeting, could I use that time to finish lesson planning or catch up on required paperwork? Otherwise, I’ll need to stay late after the meeting.”

Giving them an alternative or even a couple of different options makes it much easier for them to just say, “Yeah, that’s fine,” or tweak things slightly. Otherwise, they have to rack their brains trying to figure out how to fix your problem for you, and they may come up with something you don’t even like.

And then if they try, and their suggestion doesn’t satisfy you, it’s frustrating for both of you. So what’s the incentive for them to keep trying to help?

Absolutely, you’re right. And they may have tunnel vision because they’re looking at the issue from their perspective, and not necessarily considering what would actually be most useful for you. It’s much better to take that mental labor off their plate and just say, “Here are some options.”

Advocating effectively among peers and coworkers

What would this look like in a situation where you are with peers? So, like, if you’re in your grade-level team or department-level team, you’re discussing a process for something, and you disagree with one of your colleagues. This isn’t someone you report to; it’s not a boss. It’s someone who’s on the same level as you, but you disagree. You don’t think that their approach is the right way, but you’re really nervous to speak up because you need to work with this person. Do you have any tips for those kinds of situations?

I don’t know if you’ve ever done improv, but if you have, one of the very easy and good strategies—and you’ve probably heard this—is “Yes, and.” So, yes, I hear you. And here’s another alternative that we could consider. It doesn’t really—you know, it’s not combative. It’s like, yes, I agree with parts of what you’re saying. And here’s another suggestion.

I think when we say “but,” immediately our brains go to, “Oh no, she’s going to disagree with me,” or “There’s some sort of confrontation.” So I think “yes, and” is a great strategy to use across any industry when you’re trying to get others on board, when you’re trying to influence them to go in the direction that you think is better. And maybe after you hear everyone’s opinions, you might change your mind and say, “Oh, you know what? That works better.”

And I think a key phrase there that you said was, you know, the goal is to change people’s minds or bring them on board. You may change your own mind, but if your goal is to be persuasive, then you’ve got to be persuasive. And so that’s when you go in there with that goal—it’s just like going to the leader with solutions. I’m not here to complain. I’m here with a solution.

In this team meeting, I’m not here just to go against you and make you feel wrong or bad or to tear down your idea. I’m actually really convinced that this other approach is going to be better. Let me be as persuasive as I can in laying that out so other people get on board, other people have the buy-in. It’s not just me forcing my way in there. It’s actually convincing them that this is going to be a more effective approach.

Yeah, I think “yes, and” is a great strategy. And I also just think from a mindset perspective, it’s like you want to be a masterful communicator. And in order to be a masterful communicator, you don’t expect people to meet you at your bus stop—you meet them at theirs. Like you meet at each other’s bus stops, like a convenient, mutually convenient bus stop.

And I think if we go one step further, if you’re trying to influence, you meet others at their bus stop.

The role of mindfulness and emotional regulation

What role does mindfulness and emotional regulation play in preparing for these uncomfortable conversations or potentially uncomfortable situations?

Well, again, if it’s so uncomfortable for you, you realize this, you’re aware of this. So maybe before you’re going to walk into that meeting or before you’re going to have that conversation, you’re going to take some deep breaths, ground into the present moment.

Because again, you might be the reason that you’re having this anxiety or this emotional dysregulation is because you are ruminating about the past. You might think, “Oh, this happened previously with this person, so it’s going to happen again with this person.” Or you’re catastrophizing like, “Well, what if he or she says this? Then what am I going to do?”

So I think if we just take moments to ground into the present moment — and the easiest way to do that is through our breath. And if that’s not your thing, then using one of your five senses, like maybe just grounding your feet before you step into the room with the person, just like grounding into the present moment, however that looks for you.

Balancing Eastern and Western practices

One of the things that I love most about your book and that surprised me about it, that really made it stand out as unique, is it is very much this east-meets-west kind of vibe to it, where you’re talking about business, corporate strategies, and you’re quoting all of these neuroscience researchers, and then you’re talking about the Ayurvedic principles and yoga and breath work and Buddhism and all of these things that kind of get us out of our heads and more into our bodies and into our experience. And I feel like that’s the balance that so many resources are missing and that so many of us as humans are missing.

And that, for me, when I found yoga, that really was transformative for me because I’d heard people say things like, “You know, focus on the breath, take deep breaths.” I’m like, “This is not doing anything for me.”

Like, it’s a whole practice, like you’re saying. It’s a way of being and an embodiment of these principles, and you keep showing up and doing it in different situations, and then it just becomes a natural part of who you are. So when you’re in the more challenging situations, you’ve already flexed that muscle, as you said.

Right. Because we can be on our mats and we can practice these things. And then again, it’s flexing in other contexts. So take the things you learned about grounding into your feet and taking deep breaths, and you’re moving it into a conversation with your manager or your leader of the organization. That’s uncomfortable. And you’re still practicing the same skills in a different context

Using mindfulness practices

Your book has a lot of practical examples. I think pretty much every chapter has, like, a practice, right? Something that you can do to kind of embody these principles. Is there something that you use a lot that is useful for you? A specific grounding practice, regulation, or mindfulness practice?

I think for me, movement. And so when I get dysregulated, I think moving in any way, shape, or form—because motion changes your emotional state. So walking, yoga, just getting up. If you’re on a Zoom call and something didn’t go right, it’s like, “I’ll be right back,” and you just get up and you move, and you come back and you’re in a different state. And I think for me, movement has always been something that helps me get back into a regulated state.

For me, I think it’s nature, and the movement ties into it. Because a lot of times I’m going for a walk in nature, stepping outside. If I’m in a natural setting, I see trees that have been there long before we were here. They’re going to be here long after me.

I see the animals, the squirrels hiding their acorns, all the things that they’re going to continue to do regardless of what’s happening in my world. And it really puts things in perspective. And if I’m in a city setting, I look around, I’m like, “Look at all of these other people with all of their problems and all of their things that they’re going through and the things they’re trying to get done in their day.” And it just gives me that sense of perspective.

Even just stepping outside, a quick walk around the block really makes a big difference in my mental state.

Same for me. I mean, I’m a tree hugger. So I will go to the park just to hug trees. Because I just feel like, again, those trees have been here way before us, they will be here way after us. There’s just a sense of calm that I feel with nature as well.

So I agree, like, if you have the ability to get up and walk around and be in nature, or maybe you do that after your workday, but making sure that’s part of your repertoire just to calm the nerves.

Even gazing out the window. You know, window-gazing meditations—that’s a whole practice. There are entire traditions around that.

I taught a lot in Florida. As a teacher, I would find there were palm trees outside of my window, which, you know, what’s more calming than a palm tree? And at those moments where I’m like, “I cannot do this. These kids are driving me nuts,” I could just look out the window at that palm tree.

It’s been just blowing in the breeze, you know? It’s bending to the wind. It’s not trying to stand up straight and rigid and hold its position. It’s shifting according to whatever the circumstances are, even up to hurricane-force winds. Palm trees can bend all the way down to the ground, be resilient.

And just reminding myself that there’s something bigger than me. And it’s not just me—I’m part of something so much bigger. These kids are part of something much bigger with me. It’s not just about me getting my plan done and my agenda accomplished. There’s so much more.

So even just looking out the window for a few seconds can really shift my mindset. Maybe that’s just me, but it’s been helpful.

It’s so funny because I do that throughout the day too. Like, between rooms, I’ll just look outside. And I don’t have the greatest view, but I will find something that I can just sort of focus my gaze on. And it just allows me to just calm down.

Yeah, finding those little things that work for you—it’s a lifelong practice. But it’s fun. It’s an experiment. It’s a journey.

I want to close out with a takeaway truth. What’s something that you wish every teacher understood about self-advocacy and the things that we talked about?

I mean, I think this was what was the most eye-opening experience for me talking to you: how self-advocacy could be so beneficial for teachers and for students.

I wish the teachers that I came into contact with, what I wish they knew is that not all of us are raised the same way. And so when you think about some of these intercultural dimensions that make it more difficult for children to speak up — if it’s a collective versus an individual household — also if we think of power distance, that’s another dimension that we didn’t really cover.

But in many collective cultures, and in Asian cultures, the power distance is greater. So what that means is that there’s a deference for authority. And so you would not be as comfortable going to someone who is in an authoritative figure role and asking questions or pushing back in any way.

Whereas in individualistic cultures, typically, there’s less of a power distance. You could just walk into your boss’s office and say, “Hey, I have to talk to you about a couple of things,” usually.

And so when you’re a child and there’s that much distance in power between you and someone in an authoritative capacity, there’s a level of fear. So you may not even feel comfortable going to your teacher and having an open conversation.

And so when teachers are aware of that, they might be more compassionate. They might engage with that student a little differently, knowing that, hey, I have to meet that child at their bus stop and make sure that they don’t think that there’s a huge power differential between us.