Please Mute Your Trauma: Workplace Trauma & the Human Side of Work

Workplace Professionalism: Who Taught Us These Rules?

Tiffany Collins Episode 4

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0:00 | 43:03

Who Told You That Was Professional? The Hidden Rules of Workplace Culture


What does workplace professionalism actually mean—and who taught us the rules?

In this episode of Please Mute Your Trauma, Tiffany Collins examines the unspoken rules of professionalism at work: where they come from, how employees learn them, and why many of those rules are less about respect or competence and more about compliance, emotional suppression, and survival.

From “leave your emotions at the door” and “be a team player” to “watch your tone,” workplace culture constantly teaches employees what will be rewarded, what will be punished, and which parts of themselves they must edit to appear credible, committed, professional, or worthy of leadership.

But professionalism is not always neutral.

At its best, professionalism can mean accountability, preparation, respect, ethical behavior, and care for others. At its worst, it becomes a tool for protecting power, silencing discomfort, discouraging honest feedback, and labeling employees as difficult when they challenge an unhealthy system.

This episode explores why the same behavior can be interpreted differently depending on who holds power. Asking questions may be praised as initiative in one employee and criticized as insubordination in another. Direct communication may be viewed as confidence from one person and an attitude problem from someone else.

When professionalism is applied inconsistently, employees learn that success is not only about doing good work. It is also about correctly reading the room, managing other people’s reactions, and knowing when it is safer to remain silent.

In This Episode

  • What professionalism at work is supposed to mean
  • How employees learn the unwritten rules of workplace culture
  • Why professionalism can become a form of emotional suppression
  • How “watch your tone” can be used to avoid addressing the actual message
  • The difference between accountability and control
  • Why psychological safety requires people to question authority
  • How power influences who is viewed as confident, credible, or difficult
  • The connection between workplace professionalism and employee dignity
  • What healthier, more human-centered professionalism could look like

This conversation is for employees who have ever felt pressured to become smaller in order to be taken seriously, leaders who want to examine the standards they reinforce, and anyone who has wondered why authenticity is encouraged until it becomes inconvenient.

Because maybe professionalism was never the lesson.

Maybe survival was.

Reflection Question

Which workplace rule have you followed without ever asking who created it, whom it protects, or whether it helps people do better work?

If you have ever sat through a meeting wondering whether anyone was listening, received a pizza party instead of meaningful support, or been told to “bring your whole self to work” only to discover there were terms and conditions attached, you belong in this conversation.

Please Mute Your Trauma explores workplace trauma, psychological safety, dignity at work, meaningful work, and employee well-being through humor, research, and honest workplace stories.

Explore more episodes and resources at:

PleaseMuteYourTrauma.com

Have a workplace story, question, or random Wednesday thought? Leave Tiffany a message at:

888-629-5081

Because work becomes meaningful when dignity is protected.


We want to hear from you!

Support the show

If you have ever sat through a meeting wondering whether anyone was listening, received a pizza party instead of meaningful support, or been told to “bring your whole self to work” only to discover there were terms and conditions attached, you belong in this conversation.

Please Mute Your Trauma explores workplace trauma, psychological safety, dignity at work, meaningful work, and employee well-being through humor, research, and honest workplace stories.

Explore more episodes and resources at:

PleaseMuteYourTrauma.com

Have a workplace story, question, or random Wednesday thought? Leave Tiffany a message at:

888-629-5081

Because work becomes meaningful when dignity is protected.

Speaker

Professionalism. It's one of those words everybody uses, and yet almost nobody ever defines. Think about it. You could ask 10 people what professionalism means, and I guarantee you'll get at least 11 different answers. You'll get one from HR, one from your boss, one from LinkedIn. One from that one coworker. We all have that one coworker. You know the one who's convinced replying to emails at 10:47 PM is a personality trait, and if you don't respond by 10:49, apparently you're the one with the work ethic problem And somehow your grandmother still thinks wearing jeans to work is one small step away from organized crime. Which has always fascinated me, because we've built entire careers around a word that apparently means whatever your manager thinks it means. And here's the strange part. Nobody's teaching you professionalism. Not really. Let's look back. We certainly don't learn it in elementary school. Elementary school isn't preparing you for corporate America. Instead, elementary school is basically a low budget version of Lord of the Flies. Nobody's teaching emotional intelligence. They're just trying to figure out who glued crayons to the ceiling, who bit somebody during recess, why Noah is crying because somebody looked at him weird. Why Emma has somehow lost both her shoes and how, for reasons no one can explain, there's a hamster loose in the library again. Professionalism, not exactly on top of that lesson plan. We're all just trying to survive snack time. Honestly, thinking about how I was in elementary school and watching my children in elementary school. I have a firm belief that elementary teachers deserve some sort of combat hazardous duty pay. I have absolutely no research as a researcher to support this, just vibes Then comes junior high, which, let's be honest, isn't really a school at all. It's more like a federally funded social experiment. You're definitely not a kid anymore, and you're definitely not an adult. Everyone's awkward. Everybody smells. Just nobody acknowledges it. We all just collectively agreed this is our life now. You're suddenly forced to wear PE clothes, which also, thinking about it, feels like a wildly optimistic assumption about thirteen-year-olds and their use of deodorant. Apparently, recess has been canceled because someone has decided joy has an age limit. Puberty is somehow making decisions that you definitely did not authorize. Your best friend from Monday is ignoring you by Wednesday because someone passed a folded-up note during fourth period, and somehow the most important thing happening in the entire building is who sat with whom at lunch. Truthfully, middle school should come with a therapist, an emotional support caprisun, and a legally mandated hug group. Still, there is no professionalism class. Then you go to high school, and this is the time that the adults start asking, "So what are you gonna do with your life?" As if seventeen-year-olds are supposed to have a five-year strategic plan or be able to whip out their most recent SWOT analysis. Strengths: I made it to school on time. Weaknesses: algebra. Opportunities: maybe passing algebra. Threats: algebra, puberty, group projects, and the one teacher that keeps telling us, "This is gonna go on your permanent record." A lot of us just might wanna say, "Look, Linda, I still need my mom to sign my permission slip. Maybe let's slow down on asking me to choose a career." Most of us were just trying to remember our locker combination, survive chemistry, figure out if we like somebody, and hope we didn't accidentally call the teacher Mom. For me, in high school, my biggest strategic objective was making it to Friday. Still, there was no professionalism class. And then maybe go to college. Four years, maybe five, maybe six, or if you're anything like me, you just keep collecting degrees until people stop asking when you're graduating and start asking, "So is this just your personality now?" At some point, I don't know if I'm pursuing higher education or just avoiding having hobbies. I'm pretty sure at this point my student loans have tenure. They're probably on a committee, probably holding office hours, and I know they've published more than I have. And then somebody convinces you to get a master's degree. Still no class on professionalism. Maybe you decide to start a doctorate, which by the way, is just a really socially acceptable way of saying, I'd like to pay an extraordinary amount of money to discover how little I actually know." There's thousands of journal articles, hundreds of theories, statistics, research methods, three hundred pages of reading every week, and somehow every professor says the same thing, "Ooh, it shouldn't really take you that long." Excuse me? Have we met? I have questions. Many, many questions. Academia has a theory for almost everything. Need one for motivation? Ah, we've got several. Leadership? Take your pick, we have a variety. Organizational change? There's entire textbooks. Why people procrastinate? Ironically, I'll read that one later. But professionalism, apparently we all just agreed doing it And I think that's funny. Professionalism is one of the few things that changes every time the logo changes. It's like moving to another country, except everyone's speaking corporate. You have one company that says, "Wear a suit," and another that says, "Ooh, if you wear a suit, you're gonna make people think you have a job interview after work." One company says, "Call everyone by their first name." Another expects you to address everyone by their title, and somehow you feel like you should curtsy or bow on your way into a meeting. One company thinks eating lunch at your desk proves commitment. Another sends emails reminding you to take your lunch break because burnout is bad. They're also the same company that quietly wonders why you're not answering emails while you're eating. One company insists everyone works in the office because collaboration. Another hasn't seen its employees since 2021, and somehow they're still breaking revenue records. Hmm, interesting. I guess same species, completely different habitats Maybe the problem isn't that we're bad at professionalism. Maybe we've all just been dropped into different escape rooms with completely different rules, and someone forgot to tell HR to leave the clues. Somewhere in America, there has to be a professor thinking, "Hmm, you know what these students really need before entering the workplace? Another Excel assignment." Because nothing prepares you for office politics like learning VLOOKUP, pivot tables. That'll fix emotional suppression. At some point, I was convinced that there was one final assignment where they were gonna finally explain professionalism. Maybe it was in Appendix C. Maybe I missed class that day, or maybe Canvas never uploaded it. Still, there was no professionalism class And yet the moment we start our first job, everyone suddenly expects us to know exactly what professionalism is. Nobody hands us a professionalism handbook. Nobody defines it. Nobody explains where these mythical lines are. We're just expected to know. Which is fascinating because every organization acts like it was in a handbook, and somehow you're the only person who forgot to read it Which raises a question I can't stop asking. If nobody ever taught us professionalism, where did we learn it? Who taught you what professionalism was? Hi. I am really glad you're here, and if you're back for another episode, welcome back. If you're new here, pull up a chair. We've been saving you a seat, and we have a lot to talk about. This is Please Mute Your Trauma. I'm Tiffany Collins. I'm curious by nature, slightly allergic to corporate buzzwords, and I have a feeling we're about to ask some really great questions. So let's start with this one. Why do we all seem to know what professionalism is when nobody ever actually taught it? Why does professionalism mean something completely different every time you change employers? Why does one organization call something leadership while another calls the exact same behavior insubordination? Why is asking questions considered initiative? Right up until someone doesn't like the question Why is bringing your whole self to work only encouraged until the point your whole self becomes inconvenient? And maybe the question I can't stop thinking about, if nobody taught us professionalism, where the heck did we learn it? In preparing for today's episode, I went back and tried to find some research to support how we know these things, and I found that researchers have actually been studying this for well over 100 years. Not professionalism exactly, but how human beings learn. Think about Pavlov. You ring the bell, dog expects food. Then another researcher comes along named Skinner, and his theory is that you reward the behavior you want, and eventually the rats figure out where the cheese is. Humans, honestly, we're not that different. We just wear better clothes and have Outlook calendars We figure out where the rewards are. We figure out what's safe. We figure out what gets praised and what gets promoted, and also what gets ignored, what gets people invited into the room. And even before we realize it's happening, we adapt, which suddenly explains a whole lot because I don't think we ever learned professionalism. I think we learned what got rewarded. And this is usually where tone enters the chat. Tone. It's one of the most powerful words in the workplace, and somehow it can make the content of what somebody said completely disappear You can raise a real concern. You might name a real problem. You can point to a real pattern. You can say, "This process is hurting people," and suddenly the conversation can become, "Let's talk about your tone." And listen, tone matters. It does. How we say things. We know that words have weight. How you deliver something matters. How you respect others matters. And I'm not saying everyone should walk into a meeting, flip a conference table, and call it authenticity, although, let's be honest, some conference tables have earned the threat But tone can become a very convenient exit ramp because sometimes when people don't wanna deal with the truth, they critique the packaging They don't say you're wrong. They say your delivery could have been better. They don't say, "We don't wanna address this." They say, "Hmm, this doesn't feel like the right forum." And they don't say, "We're uncomfortable with your boundary." Instead, they say, "You seem defensive." And suddenly the person who named the issue becomes the issue I mean, this is a very old trick, and workplaces still do it all the time. An employee says, "I'm overwhelmed," and the organization says, "Let's talk about your resilience." An employee says, "This workload is not sustainable," and instead the organization says, "Let's talk about how you time manage." An employee says, "I don't feel safe speaking up." The organization says, "Let's talk about communication style And I just want to gently ask, at what point do we stop coaching people on how to just... At what point do we stop coaching people on how to survive the dysfunction and start asking why the dysfunction has so much job security? Because sometimes the problem is not that people are unprofessional. Sometimes the problem is that professionalism is being used as a muzzle. A velvet one, maybe? A polite one, one with nice font and a leadership competency model attached, but still it's a muzzle. And I think people know this. I think employees feel it. They might not always have the language for it, but they know when they're being asked to make the truth more palatable or digestible for the people who have the power to ignore it. They know when a meeting is not really a meeting, it's a performance. They know when feedback is not really welcome, it's just being collected, so someone can say feedback was collected. Check. They know when a listening session is actually a liability shield with some pastries attached. And honestly, the pastries don't fix it, ever. They help. I'm not above a good pastry, but they do not fix the problem because people do not need another performative invitation to speak freely. They need evidence that speaking freely will not cost them their dignity And that is the missing piece. Not another survey, not another values refresh, definitely not another poster in the break room with a mountain on it. The word integrity written in a font that looks like it was chosen by someone named Brad. People need to know, if I tell the truth here, will I be safe? If I ask for help here, will I be respected? If I set a boundary here, will I still belong? If I disagree here, will I still have a future? Those are the questions underneath professionalism. Not, did she use the perfect phrase? Not, did he smile enough? Not, was everyone comfortable? The deeper question is, can people be honest here without being punished for making reality visible? Because if the answer is no, then we're not talking about professionalism anymore. We're talking about compliance, and those two things are very different And I think that's what matters because once you realize professionalism is learned through reward, you start seeing it everywhere. You see it in the employee who never asks for help because the people who ask for help get labeled as difficult. You see it in the manager who says, "My door is always open," but somehow every person who walks through it learns to make their problems smaller before they speak. You see it in the employee who rewrites the same email seven times, not because the message is unclear, but because they're trying to remove every possible trace of frustration, urgency, hurt, or humanity And I know this one personally because there is a specific kind of exhaustion that comes from trying to sound professional when what you really mean is this is not okay But you are trained that you cannot say, "This is not okay," so you say, "Thank you for the clarification," which is corporate for I have concerns, but apparently we all are pretending this is normal. You say, "Looking back," which means I've asked this question three times, and somehow we, the gruder good, are still wandering through the wilder-wilderness. You say, per my previous email, which means the receipts are attached and I have chosen peace. And I think that's where professionalism gets tricky because sometimes professionalism is respect. Sometimes it is self-control. Sometimes it's maturity. And sometimes it is kindness under pressure But also sometimes what we call professionalism is really just emotional translation. It is taking something honest and making it more comfortable or palatable for the room. It's taking a boundary and making it sound more like a suggestion It is taking harm and wrapping it in enough polite language that no one has to feel responsible for it And that is where we have to be careful because there is a difference between communicating with dignity and shrinking your soul so no one else feels uncomfortable Think about your own life for a minute. Nobody ever sat you down and said, "Okay, here's the official definition of professionalism." Instead, you learned it the way all of us do, quietly. You walk into your first job, you watch, you listen You notice what gets rewarded. You notice who gets interrupted and who doesn't You notice who gets trusted, who gets visibility, who maybe apologizes for leaving at 5:00, and who somehow gets promote. Who apologizes for leaving at 5:00 and somehow gets praised for answering emails at 10 o'clock at night. And before anyone And before anyone ever explains the rules, you already know them. Maybe you got emotional once and somebody said, "Hey, leave your emotions at the door." Which gives me all sorts of questions and makes me wonder, where exactly is this door? Is there a coat rack for my feelings? Do I check my feelings and get a claim ticket? Or am I just supposed to magically remember where I put my humanity? Maybe you challenged an idea in a meeting. Five minutes later, you weren't a team player, which was confusing because five minutes before that, they said they wanted innovation. Apparently, they just wanted innovation that agreed with them Or maybe you weren't collaborative, which by the way, is one of my favorite corporate phrases, because not collaborative just means you disagreed with someone whose email signature had more lines than yours. And that's when I started thinking about that kid back in elementary school. We all know the one, whose hand never came down. The one collecting gold stars like it was an Olympic sport. The one that the teacher asks a question, and before your brain has even caught up that there's a question being asked, this kid's hand is already in the air Some of them never actually stopped playing. They just traded gold stars for employee of the month, stickers for performance reviews, perfect attendance for replying to emails at ten forty-seven PM. It's really the same game, just a different scorecard. And somehow we decided that was professionalism Maybe one day you finish your work, it's five o'clock. You pack up your bag, you say goodbye to those still in the office, and you head for the door. And just as you're leaving, somebody smiles and says, "Oh, we taking a half day?" Everybody laughs. You laugh too, but yet on the drive home, you're not thinking about the joke. You're thinking, "Was that actually a joke?" Funny how sometimes the things we laugh at are actually lessons. Lessons about who stays late, who gets noticed, who gets praised, and who quietly starts wondering if leaving work when work is over somehow makes them less committed Then maybe a few months later, you finally take a vacation. A real vacation, not a long weekend, a real vacation. The kind where you plan to actually disconnect, leave your computer behind. Your manager says, "Enjoy your time off." And HR reminds everyone, "Your wellbeing matters." The company newsletter says, "Please take your PTO." 27 minutes after you leave, your phone rings. "Hey, we know you're on vacation- And I don't know about you, but nothing good has ever followed those words, ever You answer anyway because, not because anybody made you, but because somewhere along the way you learned availability looked like professionalism Or maybe one day you finally admit you're overwhelmed, not because you want sympathy, but because you generally need help. And instead of hearing, "What can we take off your plate?" You hear, "You just need to be a little more resilient." Which is interesting because resilience was never supposed to mean carrying more than one person should have to carry Have you ever noticed that nobody ever really has to define professionalism? Organization, organizations don't define it, they demonstrate it And honestly, this is why culture decks make me laugh a little. Not because values don't matter, they do, but because the real culture usually shows up right after the values are tested Everybody values transparency until someone tells the truth Everybody values courage until someone uses it upward Everybody values accountability until accountability needs to travel above the person with the smallest title. And that's when you learn the real rules, not the ones on the wall, the rules in the room Because the handbook might say, "We believe in open communication," but meetings teach ask questions carefully The value statements might say we prioritize well-being, but the workload teaches rest is fine as long as nothing slows down A leadership trainee might say, "We welcome feedback But the performance review teaches feedback is welcome as long as it's flattering, vague, and delivered with a smile. And that's the thing about professionalism. It often becomes the language organizations use to make power sound neutral When someone with power is direct, we call them decisive. When someone with less power is direct, we call them abrasive When someone with power sets a boundary, we call it strategic. And when someone with less power sets a boundary, we ask if they're still committed When someone with power gets emotional, we say they're passionate. And when someone with less power gets emotional, we suggest that they work on their executive presence Same behavior, different label. And that label can change your career So when we talk about professionalism, we're not just talking about manners. We are talking about power. We're talking about belonging, and we're talking about who gets to be fully human and who has to be carefully edited long before they're considered credible And that's why this conversation belongs on a podcast called Please Meet Your Trauma. Because so many workplaces don't actually ask people to be professional. They ask people to be palatable. They ask people to be composed and not honest, available yet not overwhelmed, resilient but not resourced, authentic and but not inconvenient. And then they act surprised when people burn out. They disconnect quietly perform, or maybe just leave. But maybe they didn't leave because they lacked professionalism Maybe they left because professionalism became another word for disappearing Think about the last person who got promoted. Nobody gathered everyone in a conference room and said, "Okay, children, gather around. This is professionalism." I mean, they didn't have to. You watched. You noticed who got visibility, who got thanked, who got promoted, who got described as leadership material, and just as importantly, you noticed who didn't. Because organizations are always teaching us. The question is, what lesson are they teaching? Maybe they're teaching respect. Maybe they're teaching integrity. Maybe they're teaching accountability. Or maybe, without even meaning to, they're teaching people the safest way to succeed is to become the least inconvenient version of themselves And that's the moment I realized I wasn't actually learning professionalism. I was learning survival Maybe professionalism isn't something we are taught. Maybe it's something we inherited. Maybe it's time we started deciding which parts are worth keeping. Because I don't think professionalism is bad. Honestly, I really don't. I think we need professionalism. We need respect, we need accountability, and we need people who can communicate with care. We need people who can tell the truth without using honesty as a weapon. We need leaders who can stay steady without becoming cold, and We need employees who can advocate for themselves without having to apologize for existing That kind of professionalism, I'm here for it But professionalism should not require people to abandon their dignity. It should not require people to confuse silence with maturity. It should not require people to make themselves smaller so a broken system can feel more comfortable So over this next week, I don't want you to change anything. Not yet. I just want you to notice So what do we do with this? Because I don't want this episode to sound like professionalism is fake. Burn it all down. Wear pajama pants to the board meeting. Although honestly, depending on the board meeting, I do understand the impulse, but that's not what I mean. I'm not anti-professionalism. I'm anti confusion. I'm anti hiding harm behind polished language I am anti using professionalism as a way to protect comfort instead of dignity because real professionalism, the kind worth keeping, should make more r- should make work more human, not less Real professionalism says, "I can disagree with you and still honor your dignity. I can give feedback without humiliating you." I can hold a boundary without making it a threat I can be direct without being cruel I can be emotional without being dismissed, and I can be accountable without being dehumanized. That's the version I want us to build because professionalism should not mean pretending nothing affects us. Instead, it should mean we have enough respect for one another to handle the truth with care. And leaders, I just want to say this part really matters because your team is not only listening to what you say professionalism means, they're watching what happens when someone is inconvenient They're watching what happens when someone disagrees with you. They're watching what happens when someone tells you no And they're watching what happens when someone admits that they're struggling. They're watching what happens when a high performer eventually burns out They're watching what happens when the quiet person finally speaks. They're watching what happens when the person everyone depends on finally needs something back That is where your culture is teaching. Not during orientation, not during an annual training, not during an all-staff meeting where everyone is drinking lukewarm coffee and pretending that PowerPoint is not slowly draining their life force. Culture teaches in the moment about honesty. The moment after someone says, "I can't keep doing this." The moment after someone says, "That comment really bothered me The moment after someone says, "I need help" The moment after someone says, "I disagree," and the moment someone says, "This is not sustainable What happens next is the curriculum. That is the professionalism class, the lesson everyone remembers. Not the policy, not the slogan, not the leadership quote on the wall, the response Because people do not learn culture from what organizations claim it is. They learn it from what organizations tolerate. They learn it from what organizations reward They learn it from what organizations excuse, and they learn it from what organizations work to protect And over time, people get really good at becoming the version of themselves that the organization appears willing to keep. Oof. That sentence breaks my heart a little because I wonder how many brilliant, creative, funny, thoughtful, deep deeply capable people are walking around workplaces right now as edited versions of themselves. Not because they lack confidence, not because they lack professionalism, but because somewhere along the way, they learned that being fully human was too risky And maybe, just maybe, one of the most professional things we can do is stop asking people to disappear and start building rooms where dignity doesn't have to ask for permission If you're listening today as an employee, notice every time you catch yourself thinking, "That wouldn't be professional," I want you to pause and then ask yourself, "Who taught me that? Was it someone wise? Was it someone safe? Someone who wanted to see you grow? Or was it someone who benefited from you staying quiet?" If you lead people, pay attention this week to what you reward because your team is watching far more closely than they're listening. They're watching who gets praised, who gets protected, who gets interrupted, who gets forgiven, who gets labeled difficult, who gets described as leadership material, and who has to perform gratitude just to survive the day. If you work in HR or in leadership or culture or anywhere people look to you for guidance, I want you to ask yourself this week, what definition of professionalism is my organization actually teaching? No, no, no, no, not the one in the handbook. The one people learn when there's conflict, the one people learn when someone says no, the one people learn when they need help, the one people learn when they tell the truth because that is where culture reveals itself. Not in the slogan, not in an all-hands meeting, not in the stock photo of people laughing near a salad. Culture reveals itself in what happens next And before we go, I want to leave you with one more thought. This podcast was never meant to be a monologue. It was always designed to be a conversation. Because I know I'm not the only one asking these questions and having these thoughts. And I know I'm definitely not the only one who's ever lived through these experiences. So if today's episode made you stop, made you think, or reminded you of a story you've been carrying, I'd love to hear it. I'm going to ask you to head over to pleasemeetyourtrauma.com. You'll find every episode, additional resources, and a place to continue this conversation. If you've got a workplace story or a question, I love random Wednesday thoughts. Send me a voicemail. Seriously, I want to hear your voice. Some of those stories may become future episodes because I have a feeling the conversations we're not having are exactly the ones we need to start having. And wherever you're sitting today, employee, leader, HR executive, or somewhere in between, there's always a seat here for you. Until next time, stay curious. I'm Tiffany Collins, curious by nature, slightly allergic to corporate buzzwords, and always asking why. Because I still believe organizations don't have a people problem, they have a humanity problem. And more importantly, I believe that work becomes meaningful when dignity is protected, and that means protecting your own. See you next week