You're a rubbernecker!


I'm not the sort of person who dashes over the moment an ambulance or fire engine goes past, just to catch a glimpse of someone else's misfortune. Yet I was recently branded a rubbernecker — for calmly waiting while someone tried to extricate themselves from an awkward manoeuvre in a car park. And that's how this blog got its title.
Reaction
My first instinct was to ask this gentleman what on earth possessed him to call me a rubber necker, when all I'd done was wait patiently while he manoeuvred his car out of the disabled parking bay he'd wrongly parked in. I didn't do it. But the thought lingered — and that, to me, was the most interesting part of the whole episode. Because moments earlier, I'd deliberately made space to be kind. So why did that so quickly tip over into wanting to be just as unkind back?
Struck a nerve
Looking back, it wasn't really about how this man had reacted at all. Something else triggered my response. I didn't feel taken seriously for what I'd actually done — namely, making room, showing patience, being kind. I got angry because I felt unfairly treated. In hindsight, that gut reaction taught me quite a bit.
Anger
Anger tends to get a bad press, as though it's something you shouldn't show, or should be ashamed of. We've all been there, though. And there's often something to learn from it. In my case, it touched on something I'd experienced as a child: the feeling of not being respected. One of my mentors once taught me that a reaction like this usually means there's "still something to work through." He was right. Even after all these years, that uncomfortable feeling still resurfaces from time to time. The good news: I recognise it far more quickly now than I used to.
Opportunity
This particular incident seems to be harmless in itself. Someone gets frustrated because their own mistake has been witnessed by somebody else. What if exactly the same pattern happens in the workplace. Think of an employee who doesn't feel heard in a meeting. A remark that lands harder than intended. A sense of "not mattering, just for a moment." The intensity of someone's reaction often says far more about what's been touched on than about the incident that triggered it. As a manager, that's an opportunity — not to dismiss the reaction as overblown, or to call this person out for their conduct, but to open a conversation about what's really going on beneath the surface.
You're a rubbernecker
Not every flash of anger needs unpacking. But sometimes it's worth asking: what exactly got touched on here? What makes someone react this way? And what can you learn from it? Often, the answer lies well beyond the specific incident. In my case, at least, it showed me that the childhood feeling of not being taken seriously still surfaces occasionally — and that it belongs to the past, saying nothing about who I am today.
I wasn't a rubbernecker that day. But I was reminded, once again, just how much can lie behind a single word in a car park.
Do you recognise these kinds of moments — where a small event triggers a disproportionately large reaction? See it as an opportunity to discover what such reactions are telling you, rather than brushing them aside.




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