I recently had the privilege of participating in a peer interview. It was my first experience, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I listened intently and even asked thoughtful questions, eager to learn. What I didn’t expect was to be deeply impacted by one simple line the interviewee spoke:
“I believe it’s not a people problem–it’s a process problem.”
That sentence struck me instantly and has echoed in my mind ever since.
For much of my life, I lived like I had people problems. I didn’t know any other way. My coworker wasn’t communicating well. The student I taught didn’t give enough effort. A board member constantly found fault. A neighbor refused to keep his trash in his own yard. My boss denied my request for time off unfairly. A friend never called back. And, the list went on and on.
My world felt divided–me on one side, everyone else on the other. I felt separate, disconnected, and often convinced that people opposed me. Without realizing it, I slipped into a victim mentality, believing others were out to harm me or hinder me. Looking back, I’m dismayed by that mindset, yet, at the time, I couldn’t see it. I didn’t realize how I was contributing to my own sense of isolation and conflict.
The first shift happened when I heard the truth:
“I am no better and no worse than any of God’s kids.”
This statement leveled the playing field, and reminded me that I, too, am one of God’s kids. If I believed that I carried valued, then I had to believe the same was true for others. That realization connected me to something larger–a shared belonging that reshaped how I saw people around me.
The next turning point came from a boss who required me to bring solutions, not complaints. Instead of focusing on what was wrong, he asked me to consider what could be improved. That challenge shifted my focus from problems to possibilities. I began to see the world less as a series of offenses and more as a network of opportunities for growth.
One small shift
So when I sat in that peer interview and heard, “It’s not a people problem–it’s a process problem,” something clicked. It reminded me of steering a canal boat in England as a teenager. After nearly running the boat into the bank twice, the captain kindly showed me that the smallest adjustment to the rudder could make a big difference in direction. That experience now serves as a metaphor: sometimes a small shift in a system creates a major change in outcome.
When I view the world and my relationships as part of an interconnected system, I see where small shifts can make a real difference. One act of accountability can ripple through the whole. Better communication can change the trajectory. Kindness fuels empathy–and empathy always moves the needle.
When I stop blaming people and start examining the process, something beautiful happens: I no longer see others as my enemies. Instead I see the potential for change, connection, and growth. Because when we address the process problem, that’s when true transformation begins.