Difficult conversations: when care meets courage
Sarah König | July 2025
Read more from the Reflections on Relational Practice blog series:
- 'Hard to reach' families or difficult to access services?
- What is relational practice and why is it important?
- Listening to speak or listening to understand?
- Understanding the broader context of individual families
- How our interpretation of experiences might get in the way of helping families
- Building and sustaining effective relationships: why first meetings matter
- Listening beyond words: what children's behaviour is trying to tell us
- Difficult conversations: when care meets courage
- Summarising: creating connection and empowering speakers
- Why partnerships with families and children matter more than ever
- Humility in professional practice
- Building trust: turning small moments into lasting connections
If you’ve ever rehearsed a tricky conversation in the car, only to bail at the last second when the moment came, you’re not alone.
These conversations sit at the heart of our work – especially for those supporting families through complex, emotionally layered situations. There’s a deep sense of responsibility, not just to 'get it right,' but to avoid rupturing the relationship. That pressure can make it tempting to delay or soften what needs to be said.
Often, it’s early childhood professionals who find themselves on the front lines, being the first to notice or raise concerns about a child’s development or wellbeing. These high-stake conversations can shape the tone of a family’s entire support journey and how our relationship unfolds from that point on.
Professionals are encouraged to speak up early, but what happens if that care meets a family’s fear, resistance, or simply a different perspective?
We might be challenging how a parent sees their child, or naming something they’ve quietly worried about but haven’t voiced aloud. These moments don’t just test our professional skills. They call on something deeper - our values, our empathy, and the willingness to hold space for someone else, even when it’s messy or painful.
How can we prepare ourselves for these conversations?
We can pause to consider the stories, assumptions, or beliefs we’re bringing in (what psychologist George Kelly called our constructs), and how those might shape what we hear, how we interpret it, and what feels possible moving forward. When we take a moment to reflect, we show up to the conversation more grounded. We offer something steadier than perfection; we offer presence. That’s what builds safety and trust.
Some helpful starting points:
- What's the context? Are there cultural, social, or family stressors we need to hold in mind?
- What have we seen? Are there patterns in the child's behaviour, play, or communication?
- What's already been tried? What have others noticed?
Once we’re clear on our observations and reflections, the conversation itself can begin with curiosity. You can offer your observations gently, listen closely, and give space for families to share what they’ve seen, what they’ve tried, and how it feels.
One kinder teacher shared a moment where she was speaking to the mother of a child with significant learning and behavioural differences, and offhandedly called him a “beautiful child.” The mother burst into tears. She said it was the first time anyone had used those words about her son. “We forget,” the educator reflected, that “every parent wants other people to love their child.” Often, the most powerful thing we can offer isn’t a strategy or solution, but a moment of genuine connection.
Discernment matters
Before diving into a conversation with a colleague, a parent or anyone, it’s worth pausing to ask ourselves: “is this a conversation that actually needs to happen?” Not every frustration or disagreement needs a sit-down moment, and not all feedback is helpful. David Rock, founder of the NeuroLeadership Institute, shared the story of a company that implemented a policy where every manager had to give one piece of feedback to every employee each week. If at this point, like me, your face did an involuntary grimace just then, your instincts are on point. What was probably intended as a strategy for clear communication instead caused everything to grind to a halt. People became defensive, collaboration broke down, and the company eventually folded. Feedback without trust and safety isn’t brave – it’s brutal.
That said, it's also worth checking that you’re not just giving yourself the easy way out. If something is affecting your relationship, your team, or the child at the centre of the work, it’s worth finding a way to bring it up. Some conversations are uncomfortable because they matter. It takes real integrity to stay present in discomfort, especially when every part of us wants to protect, placate, or disappear. But avoidance doesn’t build trust. Showing up with clarity, care, and humility does.
Start small. Stay relational.
Maybe, the difficult conversation we need to have is with a health or education professional. Maybe you’re the parent trying to speak up, because you don't feel the professionals supposed to help you are really listening.
These same strategies – preparation, curiosity, and compassion – can help in all directions. As Ross Greene reminds us, “Kids do well if they can.” I firmly believe the same perspective can be applied to adults. Behaviour, whether it’s resistance, avoidance, or conflict, often reflects lagging skills, unmet needs, or a lack of felt safety.
That kind of compassionate framing lays the foundation for trust – and is at the core of relational practice. And while, I agree, ‘Relational Practice’ does sound like the name of a daytime TV soap, it actually refers to an approach that prioritises trust, empathy, and sharing power in professional relationships.
One simple framework we explore in our workshops is the Ask–Tell–Ask approach:
- ASK – First, ask permission or invite the other person’s perspective.
- TELL – Then, share your observation or concern clearly and kindly.
- ASK – Finally, ask again, inviting their thoughts, reactions, or hopes.
The first conversation doesn’t need to cover everything. In fact, it probably shouldn’t.
Where and when we raise concerns matters too. A rushed comment at pick-up time or a well-meaning chat at the gate can land awkwardly and cause avoidable stress. What might be intended as supportive might be heard as criticism if we’re not careful.
The conversation after the conversation
After a difficult conversation, it pays to follow up, because connection is ongoing. Even when the other person wasn’t ready at first – especially when they weren’t – continuing the conversation matters.
Following up doesn’t mean sending a 14-page document, complete with a literature review, colour-coded tabs, and detailed appendices. A simple message of “I’ve been reflecting on our conversation and wanted to check in, let me know if there’s anything you’d like to revisit” would do the trick.
We don’t need to have the perfect words. We just need to be thoughtful, open, and willing. Staying connected, especially when it would be easier to retreat, is where the real gold can happen.
Carl Rogers described the core conditions for growth: authenticity, empathy, and unconditional positive regard. It sounds lofty, but in practice, it might look like saying less, listening more, and trusting the relationship to carry the weight of the moment. Of course, none of this magically resolves complex or emotionally fraught situations, but it can help things land better, unfold more gently, or open the door to repair. You’ll have laid the groundwork for something honest and lasting (and ideally, fewer fire engines than I managed).
Upcoming workshop
The Difficult Conversations workshop teaches the skills and qualities that will help you to navigate difficult conversations from a partnership perspective. It uses practical opportunities to practice and reflect on your newly acquired tools and approaches.
Dates: 23 and 30 October
Time: 4:00pm-5:30pm AEST
Location: Online
Curious about future workshops or want to bring one to your team?
For further information, head to ccch.org.au/learn
To enquire about tailoring a workshop to meet the needs of your organisation, please email us at [email protected]
About the author
Sarah König is a speech pathologist, facilitator and clinical educator with experience across diverse health, education and community settings. She works alongside children, families and professionals, with a strong focus on connection and psychological safety. Sarah is passionate about strengths-based, neurodiversity-affirming approaches, and is especially interested in how learning can be designed at both individual and systems levels to feel practical, engaging and human.