Speaking up, making mistakes, and challenging each other- in the office AND at home

It’s often less about WHO is on the team and more about HOW the team works together.

If you lead a professional team, a community team, or—most importantly—the tiny tornado-filled team that lives in your house and eats all your snacks—you care about what makes teams work well together. Even if you don’t think you care, trust me, you do. Because team dynamics determine everything from workplace productivity to whether your family can get out the door without someone crying (sometimes you, sometimes them).

Most of us assume that the who on the team is the biggest factor.
“If Susie would pull her weight, we’d get projects done.”
“If Beth would stop talking, we’d finish meetings before next Tuesday.”
“If my kid were cleaner/more organized/less allergic to chores, our family would run like a well-oiled machine.”

But in Chapter Two of Smarter, Faster, Better, Charles Duhigg makes a compelling case: it’s not often who is on the team—it’s how the team works together that makes all the difference.

And that little truth bomb applies just as much to families as it does to zoom rooms.

What’s Psychological Safety?

Effective teams—whether at work or at home—share cultural norms that come from the leader. And if you’re a mom? Surprise! That leader is you. (Yes, even if you feel like the assistant to the assistant regional manager most days.)

High-performing teams all have one thing in common: psychological safety—the shared belief that you can speak up, make mistakes, and challenge each other without fear of humiliation or punishment. It’s one of those things you might not immediately notice when it’s there, but you absolutely feel it when it’s missing.

When Psychological Safety Works

I’m lucky to work on a professional team with an extremely stable roster, low drama, high honesty, and a leader who genuinely cares about our personal lives as much as our professional ones. We offer ideas freely, critique each other’s drafts without spiraling into existential crisis, and own our mistakes.

Case in point: my boss sat me down a few months ago and asked, “Are you feeling disconnected from the team? Because that’s what it seems like.” Now, that could’ve gone sideways fast. But because we trust each other, I didn’t get defensive. I admitted my bad attitude, she helped me name the root causes (about half mine to own, half outside my control), and by the time we were done, I felt both accountable and supported. That conversation only worked because psychological safety existed.

When It Doesn’t

I’ve also been on the opposite kind of team—the kind where people talk behind your back, leaders avoid tough conversations, decisions take forever, and everyone blames everyone else. You walk away from those kind of teams feeling one thing: RELIEF. Relief that you don’t have to keep pretending everything’s fine when everything is clearly falling apart.

Now Let’s Bring This Home

While this concept plays out beautifully in offices, it also hits close to home—literally.

Remember when you could just tell your kid, “Put on your shoes,” and they’d do it? Maybe not happily, maybe with their shoes on the wrong feet, but still—they did it. Somewhere around age 12, that strategy expires. Parenting shifts from Teaching to Coaching, and by 18, to Mentoring. You’re no longer the puppet master. You’re the guide, the sounding board, the safe place.

Which means if we want kids who grow into emotionally healthy adults that actually like spending time with us, we have to cultivate psychological safety at home.

What Does That Look Like?

Trust and respect.
Kids need to know they won’t be humiliated, ignored, or punished for telling the truth.

Open communication.
Feedback must go both ways—yes, even from child to parent. (I know. Deep breaths.)

Vulnerability.
When’s the last time you said, “Hey, I messed up” to your kid? It matters more than we think.

And here’s what we want them to feel:

• Inclusion Safety: I belong here, as I am.

• Learner Safety: I can figure things out without fear.

• Contributor Safety: My ideas matter.

• Challenger Safety: I can respectfully disagree—even with Mom.

That last one? Oof. Because being 16 in 2025 is not the same as being 16 in 1994. My childhood phone had a 12-foot curly cord and sat on my desk next to my copy of Seventeen magazine. Their world is different. Their pressures are different. Their challenges are different. So some of my knee-jerk reactions need updating.

So What Do We Do?

Well… I’m convicted. I can do better.
I can listen more—actively listen to understand.
I can own my mistakes more readily and say I’m sorry.
I can soften the thorns that pop out when my teen challenges me.

But I’m willing to do the work. Because the goal is worth it: a family team where everyone feels safe, valued, and connected—even on the days when our “team meeting” happens over reheated leftovers and someone’s missing hoodie.

And that, according to Duhigg—not to mention a whole lot of moms everywhere—is the kind of team we all want to be a part of.