Courageous conversations: A function of a purpose-driven team, part 2

By Rebecca Rose, RVT, CCC

In our previous column, we explored trust as the soil where veterinary teams grow. It creates an environment where team members can speak honestly and allows curiosity to surface without fear of humiliation or retaliation.

However, soil alone does not create strength. Roots must take hold.

If trust is the soil of a healthy veterinary team, then courageous conversations are the roots. They are not dramatic or loud. Most of the time, they are simple, steady exchanges that prevent small tensions from becoming fractures. Veterinary teams anchored in speaking up with integrity, refining difficult conversations, and practicing for progress in the tools given for courageous conversations may intentionally design deeper roots for success.

In a veterinary hospital, silence can look like professionalism.

A receptionist absorbs a client's frustration but hesitates to question a scheduling pattern that overloads the afternoon. A technician notices inefficiencies in workflow but chooses not to disrupt rounds. A doctor avoids addressing a performance concern for fear of lowering morale. A manager senses tension between team members and hopes time will soften it.

Everything appears fine on the surface, but silence is not harmony. It is often discomfort waiting its turn.

I learned this lesson early in my career. A colleague and I had different approaches to patient workflow. I saw inefficiencies building and felt tension rising, yet I convinced myself it was not significant enough to address. I believed I was protecting professionalism. In truth, I was protecting my own discomfort.

Weeks passed, and frustration showed up in tone. Communication became transactional. When the conversation finally happened, it carried layers that never needed to be there. The perceived conflict itself was manageable, but the delay was not.

The disagreement was not caused by workflow differences—the outcome was the same. It was caused by avoidance. Resentment rarely erupts overnight; it accumulates quietly in unspoken moments.

Speaking up with integrity

Hard conversations are not about confrontation. They are about timing and integrity. They are about clarity before frustration takes root.

In Five Dysfunctions of a Team,¹ Patrick Lencioni identifies fear of conflict as the second dysfunction of a team. When trust is fragile, teams preserve artificial harmony rather than engage in open disagreement. Artificial harmony looks peaceful and feels polite, but questions and concerns remain unspoken beneath the surface.

Healthy teams are not conflict-free; they are conflict-competent. That competence belongs to everyone in the hospital. Whether you are at the front desk, in treatment, assisting in surgery, leading rounds, or overseeing operations, the ability to engage in honest dialogue strengthens the entire system.

Speaking up is not a personality trait. It is a skill.

Before entering a difficult exchange, pause. Ask yourself: Is this a difference in preference, or a pattern affecting trust? Am I reacting or responding? What outcome am I truly hoping for?

Choosing your response rather than reacting is a skill, and, like any skill, it strengthens with repetition.

In a busy veterinary hospital, clarity often sounds simple.
"Help me understand your perspective."
"I have a concern I'd like to share."
"Can we revisit that plan together?"

These statements are not aggressive; instead, they signal a willingness to collaborate rather than compete. They reflect Covey's² principle to "seek first to understand, then to be understood."

Shifting from accusation to ownership changes everything. Instead of saying, "You never communicate updates," try, "I felt blindsided during rounds today. Can we talk about how we're sharing updates?" Ownership lowers defensiveness. Clarity raises trust.

When we lead with "you," the other person prepares to defend. When we lead with "I," we open a door.

"I felt blindsided."
"I'm concerned about this workflow."
"I may be misunderstanding something."

These phrases signal accountability for our perception. They focus on impact rather than character and create room for clarification rather than escalation.
Brené Brown³ reminds us, "Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind." Avoiding necessary conversations may feel compassionate in the moment, but ambiguity breeds frustration over time.

Veterinary medicine carries emotional weight, especially when patients are vulnerable and clients are stressed. Team members are balancing compassion with efficiency. In that environment, emotional intelligence matters. Pause before reacting and notice what you are feeling. Choose how you want to show up. Reaction is automatic; response is intentional.

Teams strengthen when they learn to tolerate brief discomfort in the moment to prevent larger instability later, further building emotional intelligence.

Refining difficult conversations

Perhaps the most difficult part of any disagreement is owning your portion of it. In every conflict, there is an opportunity to ask: What is my 50 percent? Even when you are not fully at fault, you are fully responsible for your response. That question applies equally to the receptionist navigating a frustrated client, the technician advocating for patient safety, the veterinarian revisiting a case decision, and the practice manager balancing competing priorities.

Growth happens when we shift from blame to accountability. Handled well, productive tension strengthens trust. Handled poorly, it fractures it. Thankfully, tools for success do exist.

Here are three tips you can practice:

1) Start with the shared goal.

• "I want us aligned for the patient."
• "I want the handoff to feel smoother."

When you name the why first, the conversation stays collaborative instead of combative.

2) Choose the right container.

Not every concern belongs in the hallway, in front of the team, or mid-crisis. If the moment is hot, stabilize first—then schedule the conversation when both people can think clearly.

3) Close the loop with one clear agreement.

Many conflicts linger because the discussion ends with emotion but no next step. Land one "going forward" sentence and a simple check-in point so the conversation creates change, not just relief.

Brief, informative, friendly, and firm

I lean on BIFF frequently, a framework that stands for brief, informative, friendly, and firm. This method helps manage and practice difficult exchanges. Keeping communication concise, factual, respectful, and clear can prevent escalation while preserving integrity (See: "BIFF: A practical tool for difficult conversations").

In the next column, we will explore commitment and clarity, elaborating on the shared purpose of the human-animal bond and the stability provided by values, vision, and mission.

We have learned that healthy veterinary teams are not defined by the absence of conflict. Rather, they are defined by the presence of trust—and the willingness to speak up when it matters for the sake of the patient, pet owner, team, and organization.

Rebecca Rose, RVT, CCC (certified career coach), has a diverse background serving the veterinary community as a credentialed team member and leader, with more than 38 years of experience. Rose has worked in and managed veterinary clinics, collaborates with industry partners, authors articles and books, and facilitates engaging team workshops. She was recently appointed to the Colorado State Board of Veterinary Medicine as one of the first RVT members.

References

1. Lencioni, P. (2002). The five dysfunctions of a team: A leadership fable. Jossey-Bass.
2. Covey, S. R. (1989). The 7 habits of highly effective people: Powerful lessons in personal change. Free Press.
3. Brown, B. (2018). Dare to lead: Brave work. Tough conversations. Whole hearts. Random House.
4. Rose, R. (2024). Five functions of a purpose-driven veterinary team. Veterinary Practice News. https://www.veterinarypracticenews.com/five-functions-of-a-purpose-driven-team/