When Team Tension Becomes Your Leadership Terrain

When Team Tension Becomes Your Leadership Terrain

Team tension doesn’t always arrive loudly.
Sometimes, it simmers.

A clipped tone.
A side glance.
The kind of silence that says more than words ever could.

You feel it.
And whether you name it or not, your team feels it too.

Ron Heifetz, in his work on adaptive leadership, reminds us that the toughest leadership work isn’t about technical fixes, it’s about staying present in the heat of discomfort.

“Real leadership is about helping people face challenges for which there are no easy answers, and staying with them while they find their way through.”

And that kind of leadership begins not with answers, but with curiosity.

When disconnection shows up, don’t delay.
You don’t need to call a full team reset.
You need to ask better questions.

Try gently naming what you’re sensing:

“How are things feeling in the team right now? Anything sitting under the surface?”
“What might we not be saying that needs to be said?”

Or bring focus to the unspoken patterns:

“Have there been moments recently that haven’t sat quite right?”
Where might we be contributing, even unintentionally, to how things are feeling?”

Sometimes, tension is a quiet invitation to reset the climate, not by controlling it, but by caring for it. That’s kaitiakitanga in action.

And while you don’t need to referee every ripple, you do have a responsibility to set the tone.
To help the team move from assumption to awareness.
From stuckness to shared ownership.

So ask:

“What would help us reconnect and work with more ease and trust?”
“How can we support each other in both the mahi and the messiness?”

And don’t forget to look inward:

“What’s one shift I could make this week that might change the energy in this space?”

You’re not expected to have all the answers.
But you are invited to lead the questions that matter.

Hold the space.
Don’t rush to fix.
Make room for truth, and for people to find their own footing again.

Thought Prompt:
What one conversation, if you initiated it this week, could shift the energy and restore connection in your team?

Back yourself.
Mary‑Anne

Leading with Neuro-Inclusion — When “Understanding” Isn’t Enough

Leading with Neuro-Inclusion — When “Understanding” Isn’t Enough

Imagine being in a room built for everyone but you.
The lights buzz and flicker.
The instructions are rushed, vague, or only verbal.
The pace moves fast, and there’s no time to pause, translate, or ask.
You’re doing the work. You’re holding it together.
But on the outside? You look fine.
So no one notices the effort it’s taking just to stay afloat.

For many neurodivergent team members, this isn’t the exception.
It’s the everyday.

Judy Singer, the sociologist who coined the term neurodiversity, reminds us that conditions like ADHD, autism, dyslexia, and sensory processing differences aren’t pathologies to fix; they’re natural variations in how human brains function.
They bring challenges, yes, but also deep and often untapped strengths:
pattern recognition, creative problem-solving, compassion, hyper-focus, deep empathy.

But here’s the catch:
Those strengths can only thrive in spaces that are built with difference in mind.
And most workplaces weren’t.

That’s why we need to talk about neuro-inclusion, not just accepting or accommodating neurodivergence,
but actively designing spaces, systems, and cultures that welcome it.

Neuro-inclusion asks:

• How are we building workplaces where all brains can thrive?
  

• What would it look like if difference was expected, not exceptional?
  

• How can we shift from permission to participation?
  
  

This is where Universal Design for Learning (UDL) gives us a way forward.
UDL invites us to build flexibility in from the beginning, offering multiple ways for people to access, engage, and express.
It removes barriers before they become exclusion. It treats variety as a given, not a problem to solve.

Inclusion isn’t about adjusting the margins.
It’s about redesigning the middle.
It’s about creating environments where people don’t have to ask to belong.

And while leaders play a critical role, this isn’t just top-down.

Neuro-inclusion is also a call for self-responsibility. For those of us who are neurodivergent, part of this journey is learning to name what supports us best, when we can. That might look like:

• Asking for information in writing
  

• Sharing that we process more slowly in noisy spaces
  

• Requesting time to prepare ahead of meetings
  

It’s not always easy.
It takes energy and vulnerability.
But asking is part of reshaping the system.
And every time we do, we make it easier for someone else.

You don’t need a formal diagnosis to deserve dignity.
You don’t need to be an expert in neuroscience to lead with compassion.
You just need to be curious.
To ask.
To listen.
To lead with aroha.

Because clarity, flexibility, and kindness aren’t just “nice to have.”
They are the building blocks of truly inclusive culture.

Something to Reflect On:

What one thing could you shift in your space, your systems, or your expectations, to move from accommodation to neuro-inclusion?

With care,
Mary‑Anne

When You Just Want People to Do Their Job — Holding Standards Without Losing Heart

When You Just Want People to Do Their Job — Holding Standards Without Losing Heart

We’ve all had those weeks.

The kind where the loose ends left by others
somehow land quietly… inconveniently… in your lap.
You’re left holding the line.
And your patience…White knuckles and all.

It’s tempting to let the small stuff slide.
To tell yourself, “It’s not a big deal.”

But as James Clear reminds us:

Culture is shaped by the behaviours we repeat, and those behaviours are shaped by what leaders reward, correct, and model.

Every unspoken drift sends a message.
So does silence.
And clarity? That’s still one of the kindest things you can offer.

If expectations have gone fuzzy,
don’t just hope people will pick up the cues.
Spell it out… again, if needed.
Not with frustration.
With firmness and care.

Culture rarely falls apart in one big moment.
It frays.
Quietly.
Repeatedly.
In the tiny compromises we let pass.

And while you’re steadying what’s slipping,
don’t forget to notice who’s standing with you.

The quiet steadiers.
The consistent ones.
The people who show up with heart and humility.

Pour your energy there.
That’s where manawanui lives.
That’s where momentum begins again.

Something to Consider:
What standard could you re-clarify this week to protect the culture you care about?

With heart,
Mary‑Anne

Pushing Boundaries, Not Burning Bridges

Pushing Boundaries, Not Burning Bridges

It’s one thing to disrupt.
It’s another to do it well.

The boldest leaders I know don’t throw grenades.
They ask better questions.
They challenge systems
without setting fire to the room.

Disruption without purpose is noise.
Disruption with intent? That’s leadership.

Rosabeth Moss Kanter, in her work on change leadership, offers a reminder:

“The best reformers aren’t always the loudest — they’re the most relational.”

She calls it the inside-out model.
Disruption that starts from within.
Rooted in emotional intelligence.
Anchored in empathy.
Powered by consistency, not chaos.

So before you push, pause.
Before you shake the foundations, ask:

• Am I elevating others… or proving myself?
  
  

• Am I anchored in kaupapa… or reacting from ego?
  
  

• Have I earned the trust I’m about to spend?

Because trust is the currency of change.
Spend it wisely.
Spend it sparingly.
Spend it in service.

Change that lasts doesn’t crash through walls.
It walks alongside.
It invites.
It listens.
It lifts.

Ngā reo māhaki: the quiet voices often carry the most weight.

Leadership that transforms?
It doesn’t shout.
It shows up.
It stays steady.
It holds the kaupapa with care.

A Question to Sit With:
Where could you lead a quiet disruption this week, one that shifts without scorching?

Go with care,
Mary‑Anne

Choosing Your Battles — The Quiet Superpower

Choosing Your Battles — The Quiet Superpower

Not every battle is worth the bruises.
Not every stand makes the statement you think it does.

The wisest leaders I know don’t rush in, sword swinging.
They pause.
They breathe.
They ask the deeper question:

“What’s really at stake here?”

Instead of reacting, they discern.

Discernment is leadership’s quiet superpower.
It doesn’t roar — it whispers.

It shows up when your ego rises… and you choose purpose instead.
When you feel the fire… but decide not to fuel it.
When silence costs you nothing — and earns you peace.

Bill George, who writes on authentic leadership, calls this anchoring to your True North — your internal compass that guides you when the winds of external pressure are strong.

His research shows that leaders who know their True North:

✔ Make better long-term decisions
✔ Build deeper trust
✔ Stay grounded in values, not emotion

They don’t lead to win arguments.
They lead to uphold integrity.

So ask yourself:

• Is this the issue where I need to stand firm?
  
  

• Or is this the one where restraint is the wiser move?
  
  

• Will this cost more than it will create?
  
  

• Am I choosing pride… or purpose?

💬 If the issue is about safety, equity, or integrity — hold.
💬 But if the gain is small and the cost is high — step back.
💬 Courage isn’t just in the pushing — it’s in the knowing when not to.

You don’t need to show up to every battle.
You need to show up where it matters most.

Something to Sit With:
Where are you spending energy that might be better invested elsewhere?

Go with courage,
Mary‑Anne