I’m looking forward to helping a new friend work on a grant application for his nonprofit. He does critically important work inspiring disadvantaged teenagers to recognize their greatness and stay in school. He uses his own story to show how a bad choice can affect your life forever.
I was moved to help because I heard him share his story. I now carry it in my heart, thanks to an event last weekend that turned thirty “I” stories into “We” Stories.
A diverse, multi-racial, intergenerational group gathered as strangers and friends for a “Story Bridge” event. Within thirty minutes of following the artful facilitation of Richard Geer and Qinghong Wei, we began to become a community.
Tell me about a moment when your life changed
One exercise in particular shifted the space for me.
We paired up and Richard asked the question: “Tell about a moment when your life changed.”
Soon I was sharing a two minute, improvised, unpolished recounting of an episode from my life. While I spoke, my partner listened–deeply.
An instruction was then given to him: “Tell your partner back the story you just heard.” My partner captured its essence as he recounted my story. Even though he missed a few details, I felt truly heard. He then shared his story and I spoke it back to him.
Within this short period of story-sharing, you could sense a new spirit entering the room, one that would buoy us through a long day. I don’t use the word love lightly, but that’s the word I heard as people described their experiences.
Meeting a big challenge
Then Richard gave the group a big assignment: to select eight stories from those that had been told, and arrange them in an order, a narrative arc, so that they could be performed as a play. With an audience arriving at 7 pm, we had to make decisions and start practicing immediately.
The heat was on. I’ve done story-to-stage work before using processes like Tanya Taylor Rubinstein’s Story Healers work. With her process, we used four days to prepare individuals to create a story and read it on stage. Richard and Qinghong gave us little more than four hours.
From I to We
With Tanya’s work, participants performed as individuals. With Story Bridge, the work is about community. While the stories started out as the creations of individuals, once the group negotiated the final selection of pieces, and each of us took on roles, either as actors or musicians, the stories belonged to us all.
Our “I” stories had morphed into a “We” performance. Former gang members, refugees, Native Americans, Mexican-Americans, Caucasians, teenagers and elders stood in front of a small, caring audience at seven o’clock. I didn’t fret that my story wasn’t performed because I was so enmeshed in the stories of others, watching them be woven into my heart.
I’ve never known what it was like to lose a buddy in a drive-by shooting, leave my tribe, or be beat up in high school. Yet my soul heard, under all of the differences, some deeply human commonalities. We had found the magic of community.
I loved Story Bridge. It’s the kind of process that lets “We” emerge in communities with big divides. Even though our event occurred in “blue” Washington State, Story Bridge has strong roots in some of the South’s most disadvantaged small towns. It has helped distressed, rural communities find their pride and get back on their feet.
Richard Geer says that Story Bridge succeeds because it taps a deeply seated human instinct to come together and share, especially in times of crisis.
Qinghong Wei documented some of the elements that make Story Bridge succeed in her doctoral work, noting that it:
- opens up a space that is welcoming and safe enough to encourage risk taking;
- fosters the collective creation of beauty in a way that also validates individuals;
- engages great diversity;
- offers participants a big challenge that requires them to pull together.
Richard’s background is in theatre, but experience has taught him that Story Bridge thrives when the direction for a show comes from the community, not from the director.
Experiment for yourself
You can learn more about the theory and practice of Story Bridge by reading Open Circle: Story Arts and the Reinvention of Community and Story Bridge: From Alienation to Community Action.
As Richard writes, the processes of Story Bridge aren’t proprietary but reflective of what humans do when they band together to support each other. They can be adapted. So why not use story to experiment in your own way:
- As people who are different from you tell their stories, listen deeply to what has meaning to them.
- Dare to share your own story with people you don’t know.
- Create spaces where people feel safe to come together and talk about their experiences.
- Trust the collective wisdom that can emerge in a group that is diverse yet connected in spirit.
- Make art, theatre, music, or creative stuff together, as an antidote to the growing, collective discouragement experienced by many today.
And test whether the arts, and story, can help heal our divided world.
I’d love to hear what emerges for you. And, special favor, would you throw some good thoughts and fairy dust on a deserving grant application!!!
Several years ago, when I started to reinvent my business, I faced a sea of unknowns and many questions. I wondered: What was calling to me? How would my passion for story, or performance, fit into my leadership development work? Where would my work be most useful, valued and needed? Would I be marketable at all? What should I do to learn and develop my practice?
Starting out on a voyage of uncertainty and upheaval in my career, I figured that the sooner I could get to the land of answers the better. After all, time was running out! I had just turned turned 60. Surely all the personal growth, prayer, and contemplation I had done, together with my maturity and the earnestness of my quest, would serve to help me find my answers quickly.
I now smile at my hubris.
Because the big questions, the ones worth living into, don’t give up their answers just because we are in a hurry.
Instead I watched the years tick away. Questions didn’t seem to care about my timetable. I received information and answers, but they came at their own pace, not mine. I learned to stay open, curious and wait. (More truthfully, I did the best I could.)
Write out your questions
I have a great new client who’s just entering the discovery phase of her career reinvention process. As she sets out to interview people and check out new options for herself, I suggested that she make a list of the questions she wants to explore.
Listing the questions is a powerful tool, especially when it leads you to the bigger questions, the ones underlying your initial questions.
You may start with “What…?” and “How do I…” questions, and then find yourself discovering new “Why…” questions.
If you want to try this, take a sheet of paper and write forty questions about a subject that is important to you (like your life, your work, your relationships). If forty come easily for you, keep going. One teacher I worked with insisted that I write out a hundred questions. That was a stretch. As you start to get tired of question writing, keep going. Just when you feel as if your questions are getting repetitive or silly, that lone question that’s going to be really useful could jump out at you.
When you’re done, review your list. What questions have you missed? Which ones inspire you? Which ones make you curious? Those are the questions that can point the way forward.
Permission to ask the big questions
Last week, I was applying to be considered for a cool conference sponsored by author and podcaster Krista TIppett, a champion of big questions. Instead of asking “Why do you want to go to this conference?” questions, the application asked:
“We live in a moment of uncertainty and change – of vast open questions at the heart of our life together. Rilke spoke of “living the questions.” What questions would you like to pose, hold, and live with others in the period ahead?*
That made me think. And for a moment, while filling out the application, I stepped away from the obsessive, small questions I live with like “which garden bed most drastically needs my attention?” “What’s for dinner?” and “Is there gluten in the salad dressing?” and took a moment to think.
I wrote out a few unapologetically big and maybe uncool-to-chat-about-at-parties questions that I really care about, such as:
- How do we embrace the pain of the world, and feel the gross inequalities without surrendering to despair?
- How do we stay connected to what’s happening in the news, including our crazy politics, while staying connected to our own hearts and inner work?
- How do I acknowledge the benefits I’ve received from being white while reaching out across interracial and intercultural divides?
Fortunately, I was only given 600 characters for my answer, because I could have kept going.
As today’s daily political quagmires are reported through the news, we’re presented with a near constant stream of allegations and disturbing news bites, and it’s hard not to be reactive. (“That’s bad.” “That’s really bad.” Do you realize how really bad that is?”) I feel taunted to come up with quick, easy responses.
But what if we could slow it all down and look for the questions that could take us underneath all the chatter?
What is we started with just one question: “What are the questions we should be asking?”
What’s your big question? I’d love to hear.
If you work in an organization or business, or volunteer regularly in the community, how many hours do you spend weekly in meetings? Count them up and I think you’ll agree, meetings are America’s growth industry! And because of this, improving meetings is the low-hanging fruit for bettering our productivity.
What if we could shift just ten percent of them from gross to great?
Have you ever had the experience of crashing to finish your work, end that telephone call, or put aside something you really wanted to do, in order to rush to a meeting? Then you arrive, watch people straggle in and spend their time waiting, day-dreaming, gazing with false fascination at their cell phones. The meeting leader isn’t even there. And the place feels like a morgue.
That meeting is probably dead before it starts.
We humans are highly adaptable and we shape our expectations based on experience. We learn that the weekly planning meeting for “Project Y” is going to start late (so don’t come on time), its purpose will be cloudy, and conversations will zig this way and that. Or maybe the group will be ramrodded through the agenda like an army platoon marching in lock-step, people will not offer what they really think, and the meeting will end in confusion with no clarity about who is going to do what. We learn to expect the worst and then our low expectations are met!
As I prepare to teach a workshop on facilitation to faculty at a local college, I’ve re-discovered a secret truth: the key to a successful meeting often lies outside the meeting itself. To quote a consulting colleague of mine, who used this phrase as if it were a quote from the Bible, context is king. What he meant is that the set-up of a meeting will determine its success. Elements include having clarity about its intent, knowing how a meeting fits into the organizational landscape, understanding how results will be used, and choosing the right structure.
Here are a few things to think about before you sit down to craft an agenda or launch a meeting:
Why do you need to have this meeting?
Do you need to report out on new developments? If what you’re planning to share can be read, spare me the agony. I can read far more quickly than I can listen. And never read me the treasurer’s report or the secretary’s report, (our garden club used to think this was necessary), unless you have the dramatic flair of a stand-up comic. Nothing deflates meeting momentum like listening to someone read an information document (exceptions allowed).
But it doesn’t have to be like that. A great meeting is a way to build relationships, inspire synergy, increase engagement through participation, learn from a variety of viewpoints, get everyone on the same page, make essential decisions, and even have fun!
What decisions, coming out of the meeting, will make your heart sing?
Or, if not sing, at least beat happily. Be clear on what you need to do or decide, but don’t get greedy. If you try to do too much, and end up having to jam your agenda with decisions to be made every five to ten minutes, (more about that in a future post), I know your meeting’s not likely to work. (If decisions were that easy to make, why aren’t they already made?)
Is there a hidden agenda?
Be honest. Sometimes I’ve entered a group in which there were so many elephants in the room, you could smell the poop. A frank discussion with your planning team or facilitator about the background of experiences people will be bringing to the meeting, and what’s at stake, is critical. Don’t surprise your facilitator (I speak from painful experience).
What format will work best?
Sometimes we get stuck thinking we need to have a 90-minute monthly meeting because we’ve always scheduled a 90-minute meeting. What if the heart of the work could be accomplished in ten minutes? Or maybe a deeper discussion could be better done in a two-day offsite retreat?
Who needs to be there, really?
Don’t sweep the organization inviting everybody, (unless going to a meeting is the core work of your organization), but do make sure that the right people are there. Even if people are “required,” why not treat them as volunteers and make it attractive and alluring to attend? Market your meeting. Enroll people in the benefits. Treat them as if they have choices about what to do with their time (they do), rather than as drones. (Maybe a poor choice of words these days.)
My colleague, visual facilitator extraordinaire Claire Bronson, created a series of fun cartoons we attached to emails in advance of a retreat we were co-directing. Even though participants had already registered, we wanted them to feel jazzed about coming.
Where will you meet?
Typically, you’ll meet close to where participants work, maybe down the hall in the conference room. But that cavern-like dungeon of a meeting room without windows at the back of the building? Not so good. Environment matters. (Look for good light, air, and quiet.)
Occasionally, it may help to go off-site. I worked with a group of executives who went brain-dead when they met in the executive conference room or similar white table-clothed hotel room. They needed to break the routine, be able to walk about, and slump in comfortable chairs. We started meeting in peoples’ homes and at a beautiful retreat site; conversations improved immeasurably leading to a marked difference in the group’s performance.
Do you need a facilitator?
Often not. You, as board chair, program manager, vice president, or volunteer, may be perfectly capable of running a good meeting. But if it’s not your strong suit, it’s OK to ask a member of your team to facilitate the meeting, or bring someone in from outside, so you can be free to participate with the group.
A facilitator can be particularly useful when issues at a meeting are likely to be contentious, stakes are high, and competing factions will be attending. Or sometimes you may want a facilitator to give your off-site a special boost. If you’re unsure whether you need a facilitator, I’m happy to help you think it out.
(Truth in lending, I do this professionally).
The above is just for starters. I haven’t talked about how you plan the meeting, run the meeting, or order muffins. We can talk about this later! Just make sure that your meeting has its best possible chance for success, before it even starts.
Recently, I had an opportunity to interview two cool, world-class disruptors who are challenging society’s beliefs about aging:
Dr. Bill Thomas, author of Second Wind: Navigating the Passage to a Slower, Deeper, and More Connected Life and leader in the world of innovative, human-centered nursing/eldercare, is a seasoned disruptor. He revolutionized the world of nursing homes when he began bringing in plants and animals for nursing home residents to care for. Then he pioneered care facilities that were structured to feel like families, not institutions. Now he’s challenging baby boomers to rethink how they are approaching elderhood, asking them to leave behind a “achievement-oriented, performance-oriented, outcome-oriented, materialistically-oriented, hyper-caffeinated, hyperactive, vision of adulthood” and choose new values that will allow them to embrace being older.
Ashton Applewhite, author of This Chair Rocks: A Manifesto Against Ageism is another crusader, railing against ageism in its many forms. When we’re ageist, she’s says, we’re really attacking our future selves, (assuming we will have the good fortune to get old). Ashton insists that attitudes about aging make meeting the challenges of elderhood more difficult than they need to be.
Through insight, humor and stories, both authors offer manifestos for change, which sent me down the road of thinking about writing manifestos. (From the Latin manifestum, meaning clear, apparent, evident.) Basically a manifesto is a statement that makes clear what’s important to you, in which you can offer your beliefs, opinions, and intentions. It can be as powerful as the Declaration of Independence, or as simple as what follows:
I offer this for those of us who are interested in creating manifestos that can transform issues and offer new ways of thinking and being.
A Manifesto for Disruptors and Manifesto-makers
Play the long haul. Who wants their life to be a series of one-night stands? (You don’t need to answer!) In our fast-moving culture, we worship instant success and crave blasts of viral attention, but the truth is that real change takes time and commitment. My African-American colleague, John Perkins, once reminded me that only entitled people think change has to happen fast. “My people have been working for change for 150 years. We’re not stopping.” So I ask fellow disruptors: are you in it for the duration?
Don’t fly solo. Disruption doesn’t happen in a vacuum. If you think you’re the only one challenging that old conversation about “X,” then 1) “X” may not be so important, or 2) you ain’t looking. Give credit to others. Collaborate. (And if you want to be radical, acknowledge that even your adversaries can teach your something.)
Bold is beautiful. Be willing to stick out and take a strong stand. Who wants a manifesto that whimpers? Give it your boldest voice. At the same time, keep an ounce of humility, knowing that you’re going to be wrong some piece of the time…guaranteed. Life is nuanced. We can’t know everything about an issue or foresee all the eventual consequences of our actions.
Write it out. Despite all the new media channels available, people still read, whether it’s a book, a manifesto, or the back of a box of Wheaties. Writing makes you think things out and it’s still the most accurately quotable way to share information.
Engage others with a creative dash. Talking heads, abstractions and pontifications are boring. Using creativity, artistry, and imagination helps people care. Maybe you combine your words with graphics. Or add stories. Bill Thomas lectures with a band of musicians, dancers and storytellers, and strums and sings his message when he goes on tour.
Live your manifesto from the inside out. Are you consistent— mostly? (see below). I remember how disappointed I was when the brilliant student radicals who tried to change the world in the 60’s with their Port Huron Statement (manifesto) turned out to be narcissistic and sexist. I don’t need people to be perfect, but I don’t like playing with those who don’t take responsibility for the baggage they carry.
Embrace your contradictions. Who doesn’t have contradictions? Perfection is so passé. I want to change ageism, but I maintain the right to dye my hair. We’re all human, and being transparent about our shortcomings keeps us real. So does laughing at ourselves!
Help us hope. Yes, the sky may be falling and the cumulative catastrophe of today’s politics is pretty discouraging, but disrupters and manifesto-makers need to take us somewhere. Please.
See the change you want to be in the world. (Twisting a popular saying a bit.**) Point out where positive change is happening, however small. And then remember, in your body and heart, that good things are possible, always.
So now I turn back to you because I know you have something worth declaring. You can find a lot of examples of manifestos on-line. And I can’t wait to read what you have to say!
**Interesting factoid. Gandhi did not say “Be the change you want to see in the world.” His words were even better:
We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. This is the divine mystery supreme. A wonderful thing it is and the source of our happiness. We need not wait to see what others do.” – Mahatma Gandhi
Words can be dangerous, sentences subversive.
At a time when many of us are asking, “What can I do,” I’m starting a very undercover revolution: I’m reading. I’m devouring articles and books—of all genres—from political commentary to memoir, how-to’s to fiction, serious to spiritual. I tried some science, which was a little hard for me, and I’m gobbling up funny. The pile of books near my bed, most borrowed from the library, is ridiculously huge. I want to learn how good writers make us think, feel, and laugh and how they use words.
After years of feeling I needed to hide my education, so as to not alienate people, I’m coming out of the closet! It’s time to reclaim my right to learn new words with my former childlike zeal. I read books in the bathtub and call out to my husband, “Hey Honey, what does preternatural mean?” If he doesn’t know the answer (which he often does), he’ll look the word up. (Preternatural means, out of the ordinary course of nature; exceptional or abnormal.)
Learning a new word makes me feel defiant.
Another act of defiance is raising the flag for critical thinking. It’s an endangered species that we’ve got to protect. As a former academic, I still carry a passion for helping people think. I once directed an undergraduate liberal-studies program for mid-career adults returning to school. Our students enrolled after years of making a living because they wanted to ask questions, think, and share ideas. They were the best!
So, here’s a sample of what’s on the top of my pile of reading this month.
Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls. I’m reading David Sedaris’ newest book and enjoying the humanity and humor in his stories. Because I really need to laugh these days! (Any book suggestions to offer?) It’s been hard to read Sedaris at night, because I seem to be in competition with my husband who keeps howling at Bill Bryson’s The Road to Little Dribbling: Adventures of an American in Britain.
I read the book first and loved it, too. Bryson makes us laugh at the English and at him as he travels around his adopted country. Like a favorite uncle, he’s cranky, irascible, adorable and very, very funny.
Finding George Orwell in Burma. Now that 1984 has become the IT book of the year, (top seller on Amazon last month), I wanted to read Emma Larkin’s political travelogue from her time tracing the steps of George Orwell in totalitarian Burma (now Myanmar). Larkin did research for the book when it was still considered dangerous to be asking questions in Burma. Orwell had lived in Burma at the beginning of his career and Larkin discovered that many Burmese still revered his writing—even if they couldn’t discuss it publicly in their tightly controlled police state.
It’s chilling that 1984 is so relevant today.
The Church of 80% Sincerity by David Roche (with a great foreword by Anne Lamott.) I have a fascination and attraction to works by people who are not “normal” in the packaged-up, beautiful-faced sense of the word. Lucy Grealy’s Autobiography of a Face (about living with a face radically deformed by cancer), is on my list of change-your-life books. And now David Roche, whose face is also severely deformed by cancer and radiation, talks about deformity with humor and grace. He’s even performed his acclaimed one-man show at the White House. In his new kind of church: “We do not try to change people by having them conform to an ideal. We try to accept people as they are. We adjust our beliefs and practices to conform to the reality of being human.” I can’t wait to read more!
Along with my subversive support for critical thinking, I’m also campaigning for the role of imagination in our lives (and trying to strengthen mine!) One of my guides will be Outside Lies Magic: Regaining History and Awareness in Everyday Places by John R. Stilgoe. He writes: “GET OUT NOW. Not just outside, but beyond the trap of the programmed electronic age so gently closing around so many people…Flex the mind, a little at first, then a lot…Enjoy the best-kept secret around—the ordinary, everyday landscape that rewards any explorer, that touches any explorer with magic.”
I’m on for it! When I lived in New York City in the 1970s, I used to spend days just wandering and exploring. It’s time to reclaim my inner-wanderer.
So now to you, what are you reading? I’d love to hear. And double points for anything funny!
Have you noticed how the fault lines between our values in the United States are becoming chasms? The distances separating conservatives and progressives, blue states and red states, pro-lifers and pro-choicers appear to be growing. That makes it oh-so-tempting for me to want to curl up in my island community and just speak with my own kind, of which there are plenty here in the Pacific Northwest.
But if we only talk with our own kind, how will we ever bridge the divides that plague our country? And how do we begin to do that?
I asked that question to my friend and colleague Real Time Strategic Change consultant, Robert “Jake” Jacobs, in our recent podcast interview, Jake responded with four magic words he learned from his mentor, famed organizational consultant Kathy Dannemiller.
Could You Say More?
Like a lot of what Jake has to say, (love him for it), these words are simple yet profound. As he said in the interview, could you say more “creates a space for other people to share their stories, and for you to more fully appreciate their experiences before sharing your own. It’s about listening—the central secret—paying attention to people in a much deeper and more profound way—so that you connect with them on a heart level as well as a head level.”
The results of such listening can be significant. Jake and his consulting colleagues Margaret Seidler and Chandra Irvin have been working with the City of Charleston, South Carolina to help that city move forward, community and police together, in the wake of the mass shooting and hate crime that took place at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church on the evening of June 17, 2015. Community and police were brought together in facilitated “listening sessions” which led to mutual understanding as well as concrete proposals for action that both sides were willing to take.
Listen to the full interview here.
Bridging through storytelling
Jake’s words remind me of the five words I use in helping someone bring out a story: “Tell me about the time…” Those words, or variations, help point someone toward a memory, a real experience, and away from the report or conclusion he or she has drawn from that memory. This helps take the conversation away from entrenched positions, about which we may differ, to real experiences, which have a validity of their own.
Before you start the conversation
All of this presupposes that you actually want to listen to someone. Our brains are well tooled to sense not only what someone is saying but how they are saying it. When you approach someone with appreciation and curiosity they feel it. When you approach with judgment, they feel that, and it’s likely to trigger a cortisol-infused fight or flight response.
But how do you engage in a conversation with someone who is making proclamations that are off-the-wall-loony-tunes and possibly destructive to others? Simple answer: you don’t. That bridge is way too rickety given your judgment and the fact that person doesn’t want to dialogue with you anyway.
Better to find someone who is willing to enter into a real conversation, not to convince you but to build a bridge of mutual understanding.
Bridging the deep divides
One person who has practiced the art of dialogue around issues where there are deep divides is Francis Kissling, former President of Catholics for Choice. Abortion is one of the heated issues that has divided this country for years and Francis has made a point of reaching out in dialogue to pro-life advocates who have been willing to talk.
Key to these conversations was an agreement that she and her conversational partner were coming together to understand differences and not to reach agreement.
In a brilliant interview with Krista Tippett she says, “the pressure of coming to agreement works against really understanding each other.” In the many years that she has been a part of dialogues about abortion, Kissling hasn’t changed her opponents’ perspectives. But she has allowed her own views to become more nuanced.
What a dialogue like that requires is, in Tippett’s words, “the courage to be vulnerable in front of those we passionately disagree with.”
Kissling offers three profoundly wise questions to consider when talking to someone who is on the other side of a deep debate:
- What is it in your own position that gives you trouble?
- What is it in the position of the other that you are attracted to?
- Where do you have doubts?
With her approach, you don’t need to change your core values. But you can deepen your understanding of an issue and embrace your doubts.
Years ago, I coached a manager whose family was broken apart because he believed his gay brother was “going to hell for his gay lifestyle.” My client was an otherwise kind man so I asked him, not withstanding the Bible he cited as proof for his views, if there was any place he might have room to say “I’m not totally sure” about his convictions. He had none. It was terribly sad because his unwillingness to consider even a shred of doubt or the possibility of a “gray zone” between his black and white beliefs was costing him his relationship both with his brother and with his son.
I’m not pretending that dialoging across large divides is easy. But we have to start somewhere. Maybe with Jake’s four words.
Can You Say More?