How to Recover When a Misstep Happens Anyway

Imagine a music teacher named Nell Abernathy who gives piano lessons in her students’ homes. Daphne Alexiou books her for her son, Niko, who is nine. Daphne’s father-in-law, Stavros Alexiou, moved from Athens two years ago to live with the family. The piano is in the front room, next to a leather armchair.

At the first lesson, Nell is running 10 minutes late. She puts down her bag and sits in the armchair to listen to Niko play his warm-up exercises. Mr. Alexiou comes in with his newspaper and stops in the doorway. “Oh,” Daphne says. “That’s my father-in-law’s chair.”

Nell jumps up. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea. I’m so sorry, Mr. Alexiou. Is that a Greek custom? I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Mr. Alexiou says that it is nothing, and he sits down. For the rest of the lesson, Nell stands beside the piano. She asks before she moves the lamp or turns a page of Niko’s music. On her way out, she apologizes to Mr. Alexiou again.

That evening, Nell emails Daphne. “I’m still so embarrassed about the chair. Please tell your father-in-law how sorry I am.” Daphne answers, “Please don’t worry at all!” At the next lesson, Mr. Alexiou reads in the kitchen. In June, Daphne writes that Niko will take a break for the summer, and he does not come back. “She’s a good teacher,” Daphne tells a friend. “She was just so nervous in our house that we all were.”

Suppose instead that Nell makes the same mistake in the same hurry. When Daphne mentions the chair, Nell stands. “I’m sorry, Mr. Alexiou. I’ve taken your chair,” she says. She pulls the piano stool over from the corner and sits on it. “Niko, let’s hear that exercise again, a little slower.” The lesson goes on the way it started, and Nell laughs when Niko groans at the slower speed.

At the door, while Mr. Alexiou is still in the front room, Nell asks Daphne a quiet question. “I’d like to get it right in your home. Is there anything else I should know, apart from the chair?” Daphne says that her father-in-law listens to every lesson from that chair. He played the piano as a boy, and he would love to be asked what he thinks.

The next week, Nell greets Mr. Alexiou first. At the end of the lesson, she asks him how Niko sounded. He says that the left hand is better. Daphne books lessons for the rest of the year.

Nell made the same mistake both times, and both times she said sorry. What changed was what came after the sorry. In the first version, she apologized three times and asked whether the chair was “a Greek custom.” Then she spent the lesson on her guard, and the family had to keep telling her that it was nothing. In the second version, she named what she did in one sentence, moved, and went back to the exercise. Later, out of Mr. Alexiou’s hearing, she asked the person who booked her what the chair meant.

So when you make a misstep with a client from another culture, say sorry once and change what you did. Then carry on as you were, and ask someone in private afterward. Here is why each of those three moves works, and what two professionals’ missteps show.

Three moves end a misstep sooner than a long apology

The three moves are the course’s own, and each one has its reason.

Say it once, to the person it touched. That person knows that something happened. If you say nothing, they are left to wonder whether you noticed, or whether you care. One sentence that names what you did, said to them, answers both. As when a meeting turns against you, name your own part and leave their feelings out. Then change what you did at once, so they can see the change.

Do not overcorrect. Overcorrecting is everything you add after that sentence. It includes a second apology, the reason it happened, and the name of their culture. It also includes a careful manner for the rest of the visit. Each one keeps the misstep in front of the room. Every new apology also asks the client to answer you and reassure you. In a family, they may have to do it in front of everyone. A question such as “Is that a Greek custom?” turns one mistake into a label on the client. The careful manner tells the family that you are uncomfortable in their home, and soon they are uncomfortable too.

Ask someone afterward. In the moment, you learn only that something was wrong. You do not learn what it meant, or what else goes with it. So later, in private, ask one person who can explain. That is usually the person who booked you, or the person who pointed out the misstep. Ask about what happened in this household, not about the client’s culture, so the answer is about the people you work for. Asking in private also means that nobody has to explain in front of the family, where their standing is at stake.

A Yorktown broker patted a buyer’s son on the head, and his sister warned her in time

Carol Kope is a broker for Westchester Homes in Yorktown. In 2011, Chicago Agent magazine reported on a showing that she described to The New York Times. She was showing a $750,000 property to a family from Thailand. During the showing, she patted the family’s three-year-old son on the head.

In the US, the magazine wrote, the pat was a harmless sign of playfulness. It added that “in Thailand, the pat would be a sign of profound disrespect.” The boy’s parents did not see it. His older sister did, and she was quick to tell Kope what it meant.

“She saved the sale,” Kope said. “Had the parents seen me do that, they would have walked.”

Kope’s misstep was caught before the parents saw it, so it never had to be put right with them. What her story shows is who told her. It was not the client. It was someone in the family who knew what the pat meant and was willing to say so. Kope’s own words also show what silence would have cost. The parents would have walked, as clients from another culture often do, without explaining why.

So when someone in a household points out a misstep, they have done you a favor. Thank them, and change what you did. The course’s suggestion is that they are also the person to ask afterward. They have already shown that they will tell you.

A Seattle photographer moved something during a ceremony, and never touched anything during one again

Victor Zerga is a wedding photographer in Seattle who specializes in what he calls “cultural weddings.” In 2017, he told the radio station KUOW about one of his first Ethiopian weddings. During the ceremony, he tried to move something from the table.

“The priest paused for a few seconds and looked at me,” Zerga said. He thought the priest would ask him to leave. The priest’s correction was that look.

Zerga changed one habit, for good. “It was my first and last time touching anything during a ceremony,” he said. The first lesson he gives now is “You have to ask what is allowed.”

He did not back away from that kind of work, either. “Today I shoot more cultural weddings than Western American weddings,” he said. Eritrean, Ethiopian, and Indian weddings are the biggest part of his business.

Whatever Zerga did in the moment, the change he describes is one he kept. The step from his story is the course’s own. Here is the step. A look or a pause may be the only correction you get, so treat it as one. Change what you did, and keep working. One misstep is not a reason to stop taking the work, as Zerga’s business shows.

Why a good apology with no question afterward goes wrong

Imagine a dog walker named Joel Prentice who walks the Satos’ terrier, Mochi, every afternoon. Mrs. Sato’s mother, Mrs. Mori, moved from Osaka last year to live with the family. One wet day, Joel brings Mochi back through the kitchen door. Mrs. Mori is at the stove, and she puts up her hand. Mrs. Sato says, “Could you bring him in through the garage? My mother doesn’t want him in the kitchen.”

Joel has learned not to fuss. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Mori. I’ll use the garage from now on,” he says. Then he tells Mrs. Sato about the walk. He uses the garage door every day after that.

Three weeks later, it rains hard. To keep the mud off the garage floor, Joel towels Mochi dry on the dining room rug. Mrs. Mori finds them there. That evening, Mrs. Sato texts that she will walk Mochi herself for a while.

Joel’s sorry was right, and so was the change he made that day. His mistake was never asking what the kitchen meant. He learned the rule, which was the garage door, but not the reason behind it. Mrs. Mori did not want the dog in any room where the family eats. One question would have given him that reason, and the reason covered the rug.

The version that works adds the question that same afternoon, in a text to Mrs. Sato. “I’d like to get it right for your mother. Are there other rooms she’d rather Mochi stayed out of?” Mrs. Sato writes back, “The kitchen and the dining room. Anywhere we eat.” Joel writes it on the page he keeps on the Satos.

Asking about a misstep afterward is not apologizing again

Many professionals hold back from the question afterward. The course teaches you to say sorry once and let the fix do the rest. Bringing the misstep up again, even hours later, can feel like a second apology.

The question is not an apology. You ask it once, in private, and usually to someone other than the person you touched. It is about the next visit, not the last one. Kope did not even have to ask, because the boy’s sister told her, and Kope said that the sister saved the sale. Zerga made asking his first rule. A question that brings the misstep back for a minute costs far less than a second misstep. A second one tells the family that the first taught you nothing.

How to recover from a misstep with a client from another culture

When you see or hear that you have made a misstep, change what you did at once. Say sorry in one sentence to the person it touched, and name what you did. For example, a florist who sees the client’s mother frown at her bucket on the dining table can move it and say, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Ruiz. I’ve put my bucket on your table.”
Leave out why it happened, where you come from, and the client’s culture. For example, a specialist realtor cuts “Where I grew up, that’s just friendly” and “Is that a custom in your country?”
If someone else pointed out the misstep, thank them in a few words. For example, a tutor whose student’s older brother points out a misstep can say, “Thank you for telling me, Sam.”
Then go back to the work in the same manner as before. Do not apologize again during the visit or in a message afterward, and do not start asking permission for everything else. For example, a caterer picks up the tasting menu where she left off.
Later that day, ask one person in private what the misstep meant and whether anything else goes with it. Ask the person who booked you, or the person who pointed it out. Ask about what happened, not about the culture. For example, a personal stylist can text a client’s daughter, “Earlier I laid the jackets on your mother’s bed. Is there anything else about the house I should know?”
If the client is the only person you can ask, ask them once. Do it at the end of the visit, away from anyone else. Use the same kind of question.
Write the answer on the client’s page, with its reason, as that household’s way. Then follow the reason, not only the rule. For example, a private chef might learn that the grandfather is served first because he is the eldest. When the grandfather’s older sister visits, the chef serves her first.

Next: You will start a new module. It begins with imposter feelings in rooms you were not raised in. Those feelings are a common response to a difference in standing, not a flaw.