We’ve all heard it. Maybe we’ve even asked it.

“Where are you from?”

Sometimes it’s asked with pure curiosity.  Other times, it lands with weight.

The real question often hiding behind it is, Help me understand you.

But if we’re not mindful of tone, timing, or context, it can sound a lot more like; You don’t belong here.

This is a theme that often comes up in my facilitation and coaching, and I’ve been thinking about this question differently since returning from a recent trip to Barbados. One side of my family is from Barbados, so in many ways, I’m home when I’m there. And yet, I’m also an outsider. I’m in the culture, but not fully of it. That liminal space can be both grounding and disorienting.

There’s a familiarity that shines through in the food, the cadences of speech, and the family histories woven into everyday conversation. And there’s also a distance. My Americanness shows up in the way I move through space, in the things I notice or question, and in the way others notice me.

Interestingly, the question “Where are you from?” came up a lot, not from locals, but from other travelers. In that context, it became a warm invitation, as it opened doors to connection, to storytelling, to cultural exchange. It allowed us not only to learn about the culture we were in but also to discover pieces of the global diaspora through the people sharing space with us. There was comparing and contrasting, sure. But mostly, there was joy.

Travel always invites this kind of reflection. But what struck me this time was the richness of observing how people engage with difference, how we stumble or adapt, and how we move between comfort and curiosity.

I’ll admit, I’ve done both. I’ve bypassed things that felt too foreign, and I’ve also tried things I never thought I would (like silkworms in Thailand, which surprisingly taste a lot like pork rinds).

Our reasons for traveling vary. Sometimes it’s relaxation. Sometimes it’s to reconnect. Sometimes we want to stretch ourselves. However, what I’ve found is that what often matters most isn’t what we’ve planned to get out of the trip, but rather what shifts within ourselves once we return.

These experiences open our eyes to how people make meaning, what they preserve, what they normalize, what they challenge.

And it reminds me that cultural curiosity isn’t just something we practice abroad. It’s something we need every day, especially in leadership. It’s in how we onboard new team members, give feedback across cultures, and make space for voices that often go unheard.

In every workplace, we navigate differences, such as different communication styles. Different norms around feedback.  Different ideas of professionalism or respect.

So when we ask someone, “Where are you from?” Its an opportunity to pause and consider, what are we really trying to understand?

My good friend and colleague Wendy Moomaw often asks, “What’s a place that shaped you?” and today that lands differently.

Same spirit of inquiry.  Deeper respect.

That small shift can open up space for stories, not assumptions. It signals: I see you. I’m here to connect, not to categorize. I’m willing to be surprised.

And that, to me, is the heart of cultural humility.

Not needing to have all the answers, but choosing to show up with awareness, openness, and the courage to keep learning.

If you’re leading people, working across differences, or just trying to be more present in the world, here are a few questions to sit with:

• When was the last time you asked, “Where are you from?” and what were you hoping to learn?
• What’s a place that shaped you, and how does it influence how you show up at work?
• Where in your organization might a deeper question lead to a deeper connection?

I’d love to hear your reflections. Drop a comment below or share your own story.