For many of us, excellence is not just a value, it’s a necessity. It’s the only way we’re taken seriously. The only way we’re allowed to be heard in rooms that weren’t designed with us in mind.
We know what it’s like to walk into a space and be met with surprise, even before we speak. We’ve heard the comments, sometimes veiled, sometimes blunt.
“You’re not like the others I’ve worked with.”
“You don’t look like a [leader/expert/CEO].”
“You’re so articulate.”
“You’re very well-spoken.”
These phrases are often delivered as compliments. But they land differently. Because they’re not just about what was said, they’re about what was assumed before we even entered the room.
The Weight Beneath the Words
What makes these comments difficult isn’t the words themselves, but the invisible history behind them.
When someone expresses surprise at our competence or communication skills, they’re revealing more about their expectations than our capabilities. The shock isn’t rooted in what we’ve done, it’s rooted in who they didn’t expect us to be.
We’re not navigating bias in theory. We’re navigating it in real time, in meetings, interviews, pitches, and panels.
And yet, we continue.
We keep showing up, not to prove our worth to people who never questioned their own, but to build what they still struggle to imagine.
Because we know their surprise is not our burden. It’s their mirror.
The Past Still Shapes the Present
Consider Liberia. It speaks English because of America. But how many people remember why?
This isn’t just a historical footnote. It’s a reminder that power structures have always shaped whose voices are heard and whose fluency is framed as impressive or unexpected.
History doesn’t just echo in textbooks. It shows up in boardrooms, on conference stages, and in the language we use to describe people who don’t fit the expected mold.
It shows up in who is called “surprising” and who is assumed to be competent without question.
Don’t Pass the Surprise Forward
These dynamics don’t change through performance alone. They change through awareness, through a willingness to examine not just what we say, but what we expect before we say it.
If reading this made you pause, that’s the point.
Let it sit. Reflect. Consider what stories you’ve inherited about who belongs and how excellence is often treated as an exception rather than a standard.
And most importantly, the next time you feel that flicker of surprise, don’t pass it forward.
Because real inclusion begins not when we’re impressed, but when we stop being surprised.