What do we need from others to feel appreciated? And can being appreciated be better than being understood?
In the past I have written about the importance of Mary Rowe’s concept of “microaffirmations,” small acts that, when practiced regularly, can promote belonging and improve a culture. Last week, I led nine workshops for Rebel Ready Week, a program that welcomes incoming first-year and transfer students to UNLV. One of them dealt with microinequities and microaffirmations.
Microaffirmations, quoting liberally from Rowe (see the link above), are “apparently small acts, which are often ephemeral and hard-to-see, events that are public and private, often unconscious but very effective, which occur wherever people wish to help others to succeed.”
Microaffirmation can be low-key, but they are important. We all face adversity every day. Judging from the exceptionally talented people who, visiting me in the Ombuds Office, share their imposter syndrome, I would hazard a guess that too many of us question our self-worth. And we might be surrounded by people who take us for granted or, even worse, actively snipe at our well-being.
In a not-always-friendly world, microaffirmations can give us something to get us through the day. A microaffirmation might be as small as someone complementing your fashion sense or not rolling their eyes as you ramble on about your current obsession. A stranger can give a microaffirmation: “Hey! Awesome boots”—and so can a long-term colleague: “I appreciate how you have always been there for me. It means a lot.”
Microaffirmations cost us little: the time to reflect on something positive about another human being, and the courage to hop the moat of embarrassment that might keep us from offering an unsolicited compliment.
The part that seemed to resonate most with the students was one line about what made microaffirmations so effective: they only required appreciation, not understanding. Even though I’m the one who put the workshop together, I didn’t really appreciate (pun intended) how much this idea—and the gap between understanding and appreciation—meant.
For me, understanding something means that you have done more than listen to it. You have internalized its meaning in a way that can be life-changing and even painful. For example, when Charles Mingus’s clown “really knew,” he suddenly understands something about his audience, himself, and his world—at least in my interpretation. Understanding can imply deeply knowing what someone is feeling, which can be difficult. We may feel that those who haven’t walked our precise road, those who haven’t lived our lives can never understand us. And maybe we’re right. But maybe don’t need other people to understand us.
Something that seems personally relevant. I am currently teaching a jazz history seminar at UNLV, taking students on a four-month tour of that quintessentially American art, with a focus on the development of the music as well as the historical trends that shaped it. It is a music that I love, but can I really say that I understand it without being a musician?
When we say we understand something, does that mean we know it inside and out, that we have possession of it? And can that be off-putting, perhaps even a barrier to getting along with others who don’t feel kindly about others presuming to know them?
If the answer to those questions comes close to yes, maybe we should not focus so intently on scaling the daunting peak of understanding, but rather the more accessible slopes of appreciation.
To appreciate, we don’t have to understand. We only have to recognize quality, importance, sincerity, authenticity, or something else we find admirable. And appreciation doesn’t require a technical treatise or footnoted citations to convey: it can be as simple as a smile or a few kind words.
That’s why, when I am thinking about microaffirmations, dialing in on what we appreciate about someone, rather than what understanding we can lay claim to, might be the key.
For example, even though I can’t say that I understand how Frankie Trumbauer’s put together his two choruses of C-melody saxophone on “Singin’ the Blues” (to say nothing of Bix Beiderbecke’s cornet on that number), I can definitely appreciate Tram’s languid charm and see how he inspired Lester Young’s unhurried improvising. And there is something appealing to me about one of the music’s most influential stylists stepping back because he’d rather be a test pilot. Could someone who was dominated by the music play so nonchalantly? Maybe, maybe not.
It occurs to me that, in today’s highly specialized workplace, appreciation might be much easier to offer than understanding. A leader might not understand in any meaningful detail the work that someone on their team does every day. To claim so would ring false and even condescendingly. But to let that colleague labor without appreciation is an even worse misstep. A few words of appreciation about how the impact of the work is appreciated can go a long way.
And it seems like maybe I should practice what I preach. While I like to end each workshop by thanking everyone who has helped make it a success—including those who might not be aware of how much they helped, like the hard-working custodial, operations, and IT teams who give us clean and functional spaces to learn in—I would like to show a little more appreciation here, both to thank some folks publicly and to remind myself, if I am reading this post a few years from now, what a great bunch of workshops I had thanks to some help.
You see, for this group of workshops I reached out to Rebel Improv to assist with our opening warm-ups and act out a few scenes demonstrating the concepts I was sharing. And it worked even better than I could have imagined. I take some pride in putting together workshops that appeal to a range of audiences, but I hadn’t considered just how effective having fellow students help bring ideas to life could be. It was a real thrill seeing the new students talking and laughing while they were considering tools to better resolve conflict. I deeply, deeply appreciate all those who took time out of their days to help someone connect better with new students.
If you aren’t quite sure about how to start building a culture of appreciation around you, here are a few tips that I am recycling from my earlier column:
- Recognize ` someone for their positive behavior and/or attitude in a group meeting
- Email someone just to remind them that you appreciate their contribution
- Be generous when it comes to giving credit
- Notice the little things
- Say nice things about people when they aren’t around
- Give timely, clear, and positive feedback (or feedforward) when appropriate
- Make an effort to pronounce someone’s name correctly
- Strive to be inclusive
In closing, I will share that when I originally shared those tips, I called on “leaders” to take the first step. Nearly two years later, I’m calling a different tune. We don’t need positional authority to be nice to each other. We all, in small, subtle, but cumulative ways, change how we act towards others, nudging our culture in a positive direction.
So until next time, expect the unexpected, stay informed, and I’ll stay informal.
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