The Hygienist Who Taught Me Nothing About Brushing My Teeth

I was six years old, sitting cross-legged on a classroom floor with about twenty other kids, when a dental hygienist arrived with a giant set of plastic teeth and an equally giant toothbrush.

She asked for a volunteer. I raised my hand — shy, but game.

She handed me the brush. I started scrubbing side to side, thinking

“No, that’s wrong.”

She took the brush back. I walked back to my spot with my face burning, acutely aware of every pair of eyes in that room.

I don’t remember what she taught us after that. I was too busy trying to disappear.

What I do remember is this: I didn’t change how I brushed my teeth.

The Leadership Lens

I’ve been thinking about that hygienist a lot lately, because I see her everywhere.

Not in dental offices, but in conference rooms. In performance reviews. In the corridor conversations where a manager finally says something to a team member — not because it’s the right moment, but because they’ve run out of patience.

Here’s what strikes me about feedback culture in most organizations: it swings between two broken extremes.

On one end, there’s the hygienist, who is blunt, public, task-focused, completely indifferent to how the message lands. On the other, there are the managers like the ones I worked with at a construction materials company, who were so afraid of causing friction that they said nothing at all. They let frustrations accumulate quietly until the only solution left felt like termination.

Both approaches fail for the same reason: they treat feedback as an event instead of a practice.

When feedback only happens in moments of crisis (or in front of an audience), it stops being information and becomes a verdict. People don’t adjust their technique. They just try not to get called on again.

The managers in that program, once they had a real framework and a bit of practice, discovered something that surprised them. Not only did their teams respond better, but they calculated, on average, ten hours a week freed up because they were no longer repeating instructions, cleaning up confusion, or quietly absorbing the work they’d delegated but never properly guided.

Feedback, done consistently and well, is one of the least glamorous and most underrated leadership tools there is.

Untangling Tips  

Separate the behavior from the moment

Corrective feedback loses its usefulness when it’s delivered in heat or in public. If something needs to be addressed, the question isn’t just what to say — it’s when and where. Timing and privacy transcend courtesy, and become the difference between feedback that lands and feedback that just stings.

Be specific about the action, not the person

“The report was missing the cost comparison we discussed” is actionable. “You never follow through” is a label. One gives someone something to change. The other gives them something to defend against.

Don’t skip recognition because it feels soft

Recognition feedback isn’t praise for the sake of morale. It’s information that tells people what to keep doing. When it’s specific and sincere, it’s just as instructive as correction. The goal isn’t to make people feel good; it’s to help them understand what’s working so they can do more of it.

A Closing Reflection

I eventually learned to brush my teeth the right way. But it wasn’t because of her.

I think that’s the part worth sitting with. Bad feedback doesn’t just fail to correct — it actively gets in the way of the correction happening. The shame of that moment was louder than anything she said afterward.

When feedback feels like a verdict, people stop listening. And the whole thing becomes a wasted opportunity — for them, for the team, for the leader who needed something to change.

From the Untangling Communication series — reflections drawn from my work with leaders and the ideas explored in my book, Untangling Communication: How Leaders Can Strengthen Communication, Resolve Conflict, and Build High-Performing Teams. Available on Amazon.

If this resonated, I’d love to hear what feedback looks like in your organization — the good, the awkward, and the kind that still stings years later. Find me on LinkedIn or reply directly.