I had just finished speaking to 200 Human Resource leaders when I noticed him—a man lingering at the back of the ballroom, watching. As attendees lined up to chat with me, he kept his distance. While I packed my materials, the room gradually emptied until only he remained, hovering near the exit door like he had something to say.
When our eyes met, I smiled. “Did you want to speak with me?”
He stepped forward with purpose. “You know,” he said, his voice firm, “You and I are polar opposites.”
That statement landed like a challenge. In that moment, I felt a flash of annoyance—I’d just received such positive feedback from everyone else. But, instead of reacting, I deliberately set my backpack down.
That simple action—putting down my bag—gave me the three seconds I needed to practice the cultural intelligence I teach. I took a breath. I observed my reaction. In nanoseconds, I wondered what had upset him. I chose curiosity.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, genuinely interested now. “How so?”
His shoulders tensed as he replied, “I’m not ashamed of who I am. I’m proud of my white history.”
I nodded, “I get that. I am too.”
Confusion flashed across his face. He clearly hadn’t expected that response. “Then why,” he challenged, “did you tell your daughter she should be ashamed of being white?”
“I did? Was that the impression I left?” I asked. Now I was genuinely curious about what he’d heard in my presentation.
He said, “That’s what I got out of your story.”
I nodded, acknowledging his perspective. “I can see why you’d be upset.”
He nodded back—a tiny bridge of understanding forming between us. That’s when I realized he might be ready for more context.
So, I asked, “May I provide some more background for that story?”
“Sure,” he said, his stance softening slightly.
I explained, “Because my daughter Abby, a news correspondent, travels globally, she’s often the only white person in the room. She has learned that, after years of being belittled under the system, people of color may hesitate to speak up for fear of retaliation, misrepresentation, social isolation or job loss, even when asked to speak up. She has found it most effective to slow down, acknowledge her uniqueness upfront and ask if she can ask a question. So, she’ll say, “Because I’m white, I may not see what it’s like for other people. Would you mind sharing your perspective so that I can get a more complete story and share it with others who don’t know?” Easing into a conversation and acknowledging her difference helps people feel safer faster and trust her with their story.”
“Ok,” he said slowly, “that makes more sense.”
Then I asked, “May I ask what prompted you to think she might be ashamed of her whiteness?”
That’s when the real story emerged.
He said, “I’m the Director of HR for a locally owned mid-size corporation. We’re all white. We’re almost all men.” Then his voice lowered slightly. “What I see on TV is so different now. It’s almost always mixed-race couples.”
“I get it; it’s definitely different from the way we grew up,” I acknowledged. “It’s also tough when you don’t see yourself represented in the media. I can imagine it was hard for people of color for all those years too.”
Then came the moment that everything changed.
“I don’t want my son to feel ashamed of being white,” he admitted, his voice softening. “I want him to be proud of who he is.”
There it was—not anger, but parental concern. Behind his challenge was a father trying to navigate raising a child in changing times. I felt for him.
“As he should be,” I said warmly. “I have a son too, and I want him to be proud of who he is as well.”
Relief crossed his face. “Oh, then you get it.”
I said, “I do. He’s an aerospace engineer at Boeing. He has his job at Boeing because of an executive there, an African American woman who is a member of our church helped him get an interview. If my son hadn’t learned to respect women, connect with a people of color and be confident as an engineer, he wouldn’t have the job he has.
“Honestly, I think that’s part of our job as parents – to teach our kids to appreciate their own and others’ uniqueness. That’s why I shared with the audience today the acronym S.T.O.P – so HR leaders like you can uncover employees’ unique story to create more connection and commitment.
S.T.O.P. means:
- S – Slow down
- T – Take 3 deep breaths
- O – Observe your reaction and theirs
- P – Proceed with curiosity and wonder
He nodded, a genuine smile appearing for the first time. “Thanks for that perspective. I guess you and I aren’t so different after all.”
What I realized in that empty ballroom is that the pause between trigger and response is where true leadership lives. That three-second moment when I put down my bag wasn’t just a delay—it was a deliberate choice to create space for understanding rather than reaction. The pause transformed what could have been a confrontation into a connection, opposition into opportunity.
Why ‘pause power’ matters to the C-Suite
For executives and leaders, the ability to pause isn’t just cultural intelligence—it’s a competitive advantage for their companies that directly impacts the bottom line. Research shows when employees feel heard and respected, engagement rises by 74% while turnover drops by 40% (Workforce Institute 2021). Conversely, when employees feel dismissed, organizations lose approximately $7,500 per employee annually in lost productivity and preventable turnover (SHRM 2024).
When leaders model that kind of cultural intelligence, they not only defuse tension but also build trust, belonging, and retention across their teams. In today’s polarized world, a leader’s ability to pause may be the smallest act with the highest return on investment.
Dr. Amy Narishkin is a cultural intelligence strategist who helps leaders turn tension into trust and challenges into opportunities. She partners with executives to boost engagement, retention, and inclusive leadership. Discover how a simple pause can transform your team — connect with Dr. Amy today.
Photo by Will Porada on Unsplash










