Real change doesn’t happen alone.
It happens when we take the time to sit side by side. When we slow down enough to ask real questions—How’s your day going? How’s your family?—and then actually listen to the answer.
It happens when we take time to hear each other’s turning point events. Our stories.
That’s how we begin to understand one another.
Lessons From My Kôkom
I was raised in large part by my kôkom, my grandmother. She lived a humble life in her own home and helped raise many of us grandchildren. I was one of them.
She lived with intention. With humility. With deep respect for others.
One of the teachings she shared with me again and again was simple: live right, and live in a good way with each other. At the heart of that teaching was respect—respect for yourself, and respect for everyone around you.
She understood something that still matters deeply today: we are all different, whether we like it or not. Cultural differences, lived experiences, worldviews—they’re all real.
What matters is not erasing those differences, but learning how to respect them and live side by side in harmony.
Where Respect Is Learned
For a time, my mother, my sisters, and I lived with my kôkom. We all slept together in her living room—the couch, the floor, wherever there was space.
A few years later, my mother was able to get us a small two-bedroom house. We called it home. My three younger sisters shared a room, and I had my own. I was spoiled—but there was a lesson in that too.
Where I come from, respect between siblings is a serious teaching. I wasn’t allowed to behave inappropriately or even tell inappropriate jokes around my sisters. If I did, there were consequences. The same applied to them.
That respect was ingrained early.
And it didn’t just come from our home—it came from ceremony.
The Power of Ceremony and Listening
My kôkom would take us to ceremony, whether we liked it or not. We were forced to stop what we were doing, sit down, bow our heads, open our ears, and listen.
That’s where I learned how to truly hear people.
If you’ve ever spent time around Indigenous people—First Nations people in particular—you may notice something about eye contact. It’s different. For those of us raised around ceremony, direct and sustained eye contact can feel uncomfortable.
In ceremony, staring directly at someone is considered disrespectful.
So you might notice when I’m speaking with you, I’ll look down, then up, then down again. That’s not disinterest. That’s respect. That’s how I was taught to listen.
But here’s the challenge.
When Cultures Collide
In business and professional settings, eye contact means something else entirely. You’re expected to shake hands, lock eyes, and show confidence. If you look away, someone might think, They’re not listening. They don’t care. I don’t feel heard.
If I didn’t explain this, you might create a story about me that simply isn’t true.
And that’s the point.
So many misunderstandings come not from bad intentions—but from lack of understanding.
Why Stories Matter
That’s why it’s so important that we take the time to understand each other, especially when we come from different backgrounds.
Sit together.
Network together.
Work together.
Tell each other stories.
Ask questions with curiosity, not judgment.
When we understand where someone comes from, we stop filling in the gaps with assumptions. We start building relationships rooted in respect instead of misunderstanding.
That’s how trust is built.
That’s how teams grow stronger.
That’s how communities move forward.
It all starts by sitting side by side—and listening.
hiy hiy
