Noticing Our Impact: Microaggressions, Micro-Affirmations, and the Everyday Work of Inclusion

Published on 14 April 2026 at 14:58

In earlier posts, I have explored some of the quieter challenges that shape organizational life: communication that breaks down, supervisors who withdraw, and the slow erosion of trust that follows. These are not dramatic events—they tend to unfold gradually, in the margins of daily work. Today I want to reflect on another set of behaviors that operate in that same quiet register: microaggressions.

I want to approach this topic with some care, because it tends to make people feel defensive before they have had a chance to genuinely engage. That defensiveness is understandable. Most of us enter the workplace wanting to do right by our colleagues. The idea that we might be causing harm, even unintentionally, is uncomfortable. But it is precisely because these behaviors are unintentional that they deserve our attention.

What Are Microaggressions?

The term "microaggression" was coined by psychiatrist Chester Pierce in the 1970s and has since been developed extensively by researcher Derald Wing Sue. Sue describes microaggressions as the everyday slights, snubs, and indignities that members of marginalized groups experience in their interactions with others—often from people who have no awareness that they are communicating anything hurtful at all.

The prefix "micro" can be misleading. It does not suggest that the impact is minor. It suggests that the behavior is small in scale—a comment, a gesture, a moment of inattention. But these moments accumulate. For people who experience them regularly, they can have a meaningful effect on how safe, valued, and welcome they feel in a workplace.

What makes microaggressions particularly difficult to address is their ambiguity. They rarely rise to the level of obvious misconduct. They live in the gray area between thoughtlessness and intent, which makes them easy to dismiss and hard to name.

Some Familiar Patterns

Rather than offering an exhaustive catalog, I want to highlight a few representative examples that I think many of us will recognize—either from our own experience or from what we have witnessed in our organizations.

The Compliment That Carries an Assumption

Imagine a colleague of color delivering a particularly strong presentation—well-organized, insightful, and well-received. Afterward, someone pulls them aside and says, "I have to say, I was really impressed. I didn't expect that." Or: "You are so articulate."

The speaker means this kindly. They are offering genuine praise. But embedded in the compliment is a baseline assumption that this person's competence was surprising—that the bar of expectation was lower to begin with. The praise lands awkwardly because it reveals what was not said: that the person's ability had been underestimated.

This kind of moment is genuinely hard to navigate for everyone involved. The speaker is often unaware of what they've communicated. The recipient may not want to make the moment more uncomfortable by pointing it out. And so it passes—but it is not forgotten.

Who Gets Acknowledged in the Room

This one requires slowing down and paying attention to our own habits. When we walk into a meeting or gather with colleagues, who do we greet first? Who gets the handshake, the eye contact, the warm welcome—and who gets a brief nod, or is overlooked until someone circles back?

Research and lived experience both suggest that in racially mixed groups, white colleagues are often acknowledged first and more fully. People of color may be greeted last, or not until the more prominent introductions have been made. It is rarely a deliberate choice—but it communicates something about whose presence registers most naturally as important.

Leaders, in particular, are worth reflecting on this. The order in which we acknowledge people in a room sends a signal about who belongs at the center of our attention.

Mistaking One Person of Color for Another

Among the most commonly reported microaggressions in workplace settings is being confused with another person of color—particularly when they are the only two Black, Latinx, or Asian employees in a department. The two individuals may look nothing alike. What they share is that they are visibly different from the majority of the team.

Being confused with a colleague in this way is not simply an embarrassing slip. It communicates, however unintentionally, that the person has not been seen as an individual. The individuality that majority colleagues take for granted—the sense that their face, name, and presence are distinctly registered—is something that people in the minority have to continually work to claim.

When it happens once, it can be attributed to a momentary lapse. When it happens repeatedly, it becomes something the person has to carry.

Other Patterns Worth Noticing

These are not the only forms microaggressions take. Others that appear frequently in organizational settings include:

Asking a colleague of color where they are "really" from, in a way that implies their American identity is conditional
Attributing someone's role or success primarily to diversity initiatives rather than to their qualifications
Repeatedly mispronouncing a colleague's name without making a genuine effort to learn it
Asking a woman of color to handle administrative tasks—taking notes, ordering food—in a setting where her peers are not expected to
Responding to expressed concerns about inclusion with "I don't see color" or "we treat everyone the same here."

Intent and Impact: Why Both Matter

When conversations about microaggressions arise in organizations, one of the most common responses is: "But I didn't mean it that way." And that is almost always true. Most of the behaviors described above are not rooted in conscious bias or ill will. They emerge from habits, assumptions, and blind spots that many of us carry without being fully aware of them.

The trouble is that intent and impact are two different things—and centering on intent, while understandable, often shifts the focus away from the person affected and toward the comfort of the person who caused the discomfort. "I didn't mean to" may be accurate, but it doesn't undo the colleague's experience of feeling unseen or diminished.

Recognizing that impact matters, even when intent was good, is not about assigning blame. It is about taking responsibility for our effect on others—and that is something most of us, if we're honest, want to do.

This framing is more productive than the alternative. When we ask, "What was the impact of this, and what can I learn from it?" rather than "Was I a bad person for doing this?" we create space for genuine growth rather than defensive shutdown. It allows us to stay curious rather than closed.

Ibram X. Kendi's work reminds us that antiracist practice is not about achieving a fixed state of being "not racist"—it is an ongoing process of examining our ideas and actions and choosing, again and again, to act in ways that support equity (Kendi, 2019). That framing is helpful here. None of us arrives fully formed. We are all in the process of learning.

Building Greater Awareness: Some Practical Approaches

Awareness is the beginning, not the end, of this work. But it is a meaningful beginning. Here are a few practices that individuals and teams can explore:

Pause Before You Speak

Many microaggressions happen in automatic, unreflective moments—a comment offered without much thought, a habit of interaction we've never examined. Building in a brief pause, especially in moments of praise, surprise, or unfamiliarity, can create just enough space to ask: what assumption might be embedded in what I'm about to say?

Receive Feedback With Openness

If a colleague tells you that something you said or did felt hurtful or dismissive, the most valuable thing you can do is listen fully, without preparing your defense. Thank them for having the courage to say something. Ask questions if you need to understand better. The goal is to learn, not to be exonerated.

Notice Your Patterns

Reflection on our daily habits can be revealing. Whose ideas do you amplify in meetings? Who do you go to for informal conversation? Whose name do you use correctly? Patterns in our behavior often point to assumptions we didn't know we held.

Expand Your Perspective

Reading, listening, and learning from people whose experiences differ from your own is one of the most accessible ways to grow. Derald Wing Sue's research on microaggressions (2010) and Daryl G. Williams's work on diversity leadership in higher education (Williams, 2013) both offer rigorous, accessible frameworks for understanding these dynamics and what organizations can do about them.

Create Space for Honest Dialogue

Building teams where people feel safe naming difficult experiences is a long-term project—it depends on trust that is built slowly and carefully. But leaders can model the conditions for that trust by being honest about their own learning edges, genuinely asking for feedback, and responding well when it comes.

Speak Up When You See Something

When you notice a microaggression happening in a meeting or a hallway conversation, you have a choice about whether to name it. You don't need to be confrontational—a simple, curious question can open space for reflection without creating shame. "What did you mean by that?" or "Can you say more about that?" can be surprisingly effective.

Micro-Affirmations: Small Gestures, Real Impact

I will close this discussion by shifting toward something constructive because if microaggressions are the small daily erosions of belonging, micro-affirmations are the small daily investments in it.

The concept of micro-affirmations was developed by MIT's Mary Rowe to describe the tiny, often unconscious acts of inclusion, acknowledgment, and respect that communicate to a person: you are seen here, your contributions matter, you belong. They are not grand statements or formal recognitions—they are the texture of daily interaction.

Micro-affirmations look like:

Learning to pronounce a colleague's name correctly and using it consistently
Making genuine eye contact with everyone in a meeting, not just the most senior voices
Crediting ideas to the person who offered them, especially when that person is often overlooked
Following up with "tell me more" when a quieter colleague contributes something
Checking in with a team member as a person, not just as an employee
Noticing when someone has been talked over and inviting them back into the conversation
Expressing real curiosity about a colleague's background or perspective without making them a spokesperson for their entire identity

What makes micro-affirmations particularly powerful is their accessibility. They do not require a budget, a committee, or an official initiative. They are available to everyone, every day, in every interaction. And research suggests that they have meaningful effects on belonging, morale, and retention—particularly for employees who are navigating environments where they are in the minority.

Cultivating a Culture of Affirmation

As with most aspects of organizational culture, the most durable change happens when these practices become normalized rather than exceptional. Leaders play an important role in modeling what affirmation looks like: consistently acknowledging contributions, ensuring every voice is heard, and responding to feedback with grace rather than defensiveness.

Williams (2013) argues that sustainable diversity leadership is not simply about filling pipelines or meeting representation targets—it is about creating the conditions in which all members of an organization can contribute fully and feel genuinely valued. Micro-affirmations are one of the most practical tools we have for doing exactly that.

They also create something important: the relational trust that makes it possible to have harder conversations. Teams that practice affirmation regularly tend to communicate more openly, surface problems earlier, and navigate conflict more constructively. The small gestures are not separate from the larger work of equity—they are part of what makes that work possible.

A Final Thought

Building an equitable workplace is not a destination we arrive at and then stop working on. It is a practice—ongoing, sometimes uncomfortable, and genuinely worthwhile. Microaggressions are not a problem unique to people with bad intentions. They show up in organizations full of good people who simply haven't yet developed the habits of awareness that equity requires.

What we can offer each other is a commitment to keep noticing, keep learning, and keep choosing—in small ways, every day—to create workplaces where everyone's presence is genuinely welcomed. That commitment doesn't require perfection. It requires honesty, curiosity, and a willingness to grow.

Start with one micro-affirmation today. And then another one tomorrow.