Category Archives: Emotional Intelligence

Managing your prejudices (3): it’s all in the language

“How do you manage your personal prejudices in a coaching situation?”

Reflecting on and writing about prejudice in recent days I am bound to reflect not only on my own prejudices but also on the widespread use of words which imply bias or interpretation and yet go unquestioned. In the most simple way I can, I thought I’d list a few here:

  • “How rude!” To what extent is there something called “rudeness” and is this term ever used without prejudice? If I describe your behaviour as rude am I not claiming to know something about what is or isn’t rude and in some way to have authority over your behaviour?
  • Terrorist: who gets to decide that an individual is a terrorist (rather than a freedom fighter) or that an act is an act of terrorism? On what basis is one act an act of terrorism and another (whether deemed legal or illegal) a war?
  • Mental illness: Thomas Szasz wrote a book questionning the use of the term “mental illness” or “mentally ill”. Is there any such thing? Jung Chang’s memoir Wild Swans with her description of her father’s response to the experiences he had under Chairman Mao’s regime illustrates just how behaviours that pass as “mental illness” could equally be seen as a sane response to the set of circumstances in which we find ourselves. So, is it prejudicial to describe someone as mentally ill?
  • Thug: How often do our journalists use terms such as “hooligan”, “thug” and “vandal” as if to use such a term were to state a fact rather than to make an interpretation? And to what extent does the use of a wide range of labels – from “parent” to “paedophile”, from “late” to “leisurely”, from “hard-working” to “high-potential” – imply prejudice on the part of the speaker?

I wonder how you respond to these terms? And what other words and phrases would you identify as showing prejudice.

Managing your prejudices (2): why bother?

“How do you manage your personal prejudices in a coaching situation?”

Yesterday, I explored what we mean by the word “prejudice” in response to my client’s question. Today I venture to ask myself why I or others might choose to manage my personal prejudices – and indeed, why we might choose not to.

I have to declare a bias! For all my instincts are in favour of being aware of my prejudices, of stripping them away, of letting them go… it is easy for me to make the case for managing one’s prejudices in a range of roles. I think of parents, leaders, teachers, coaches… Given my own bias, I want to recognise that there might be well-intended reasons for maintaining a prejudice and even that maintaining prejudice is inevitable.

What might be our reasons for maintaining a prejudice or bias? What needs might we meet by holding a prejudice? Yesterday I mentioned that generalisations simplify the act or process of living. It’s also easy to see how prejudice might be born of fear – a generalisation from one experience to protect us from similar experiences in future. It’s only a few steps, for example, from knowing that crime rates are high in xyz area to drawing the conclusion that all people who live in xyz area are dangerous and to treating them with suspicion. Even when we don’t hold a view we might choose to adopt it for fear of what happens if we don’t. Some of the most striking examples are visible in totalitarian regimes. Others are more subtle and can be seen by the discerning eye in our families, churches, workplaces and other communities. To maintain a bias may keep us safe from something we fear. It may also help us to maintain our place in a community.

What might our reasons be for choosing not to examine our prejudices and to manage them? One reason is that our prejudices are often unconscious, resting on beliefs we take to be truths – matters of fact. How many of us take “you have to work hard to succeed” to be the ultimate workplace truth, for example? Perhaps there’s another reason we choose not to examine our prejudices. For some of us at least hold the view that we are the sum of what we think. To open up our beliefs to examination can be frightening indeed – for who are we when our beliefs have been stripped away and found to be false? With what do we replace them?

Given the reasons we have to maintain our prejudices, why might we choose to manage them – to bring them into conscious awareness, to examine them, to let them go or at least to choose how we respond to them? It’s clear that there can be negative consequences from holding a prejudice, both for the person who holds it and for others with whom they are in contact. Consider the parent, for example, who forms and expresses the view that Johnny is the lazy one in the family (or stupid or ugly…) and that this is a bad thing or that Sally is the resourceful one in the family (or bright or capable) and that this is a good thing. Research in many fields suggests that such declarations tend to sow seeds for the behaviour of the children (or adults) involved. We can expect that over time Johnny and Sally will tend to conform to the ideas their parents have of them. In the field of leadership, research shows how the beliefs of leaders can have the same impact across teams or even whole organisations.

Even when the beliefs of parents (or leaders) are “positive”, they may have unintended and undesired (or undesirable) consequences. In the family Sally may feel pressure, for example, to live up to her parent’s description of her and may fail to ask for help when she needs it. Both Sally and Johnny may over time feel increasingly estranged from their true selves and from the adults who have labeled them in whatever way.

And what about coaching? It seems to me that any hidden assumptions, generalisations or beliefs held by the coach may limit what’s possible in coaching. It’s not that the coach’s experience counts for nothing – often coaching clients look to their coach for input and observations based on their own experience. At times, it’s the coach’s personal experience or experience of other’s progress that tells them that more – much more – is possible for a client. At the same time, when the coach presumes to have an answer, he or she may unwittingly limit the client in his or her progress or in the expression of his or her authentic self.

Perhaps authenticity is the hidden “plus” in all of this. For insofar as we value authenticity and see benefits in recognising and nurturing authenticity in ourselves and others, we are likely to want to go beyond our prejudices and to be open to a level of insight which cannot come from generalisations of any kind.

I wonder, what do you think?

Managing your prejudices (1): what is a prejudice?

“How do you manage your personal prejudices in a coaching situation?”

This question, from a client commissioning coaching, has been deeply thought-provoking such that I have decided to explore it here. I notice that I have no easy answers even whilst wishing to come to coaching without prejudice. The first thought that comes up for me as I engage with this question is, in turn, a question: what is a prejudice?

It isn’t often that I take my Shorter Oxford English Dictionary (that’s just two volumes) off the shelf but now I do. Amongst the definitions it offers are the following: 1. a previous judgement; esp. a premature or hasty judgement. 2. preconceived opinion, bias favourable or unfavourable […] usually with unfavourable connotation.

I wonder just how far to take this. One way of looking at it is to describe a prejudice as a generalisation which may or may not be injurious to the person(s) who are the object of the generalisation. If we take this definition, we might want to ask ourselves what difference there is between a prejudice and a belief. It seems to me that the answer to this question is a matter of degree and is generally in the eye of the beholder. It may equally be held in the eye of a group of beholders: such groups might include nations, or people of a common profession, or members of a single family.

An example of one such prejudo-belief is that homosexuality is in some way wrong, erroneous, sinful… the list of such judgements is long. It’s easy to see that different groups hold very different views about sexual preference and/or the choice to act on sexual preference. It’s also easy to see that different groups hold opposing views with equal sincerity and equally positive intentions. Whilst some groups campaign for acceptance of homosexuality and equal rights for homosexual men and women, for example, other groups seek to surpress homosexuality and even to heal people of homosexuality.

When it comes to homosexuality, it’s easy to identify different groups with deeply held, sincere and opposing views. But what about prejudices or beliefs that are so widely held that they are never questioned? Perhaps beliefs against homosexuality have fallen into this category at various times and in various cultures. (Quite recently I met someone who told me that homosexuality does not exist amongst the men of her country of origin. It is my guess that it does). What is received wisdom for one group or generation may be seen as a myth by another. It is the nature of prejudice that it is often unconsciously held.

It is easy to see how prejudices come about. For it is in the nature of human experience that we construct a map of the world around us and beliefs about what’s true or not true, what works and doesn’t work etc. We need this map or Weltanschauung to simplify the act of living. It helps to hold certain beliefs in order to save time in making choices based on diverse and complex data, for example. Equally, living in society and negotiating our interactions with others implies negotiating a path between many options and ways of interacting. Life can be simpler – or at least appear to be simpler – if we have shared beliefs which guide everyone’s behaviour.

So how do we differentiate between a belief and a prejudice? Perhaps the act of owning a belief goes some way towards making it conscious though it may still be prejudicial. This is the simple difference between saying “X is true” (or simply “X”) and “I believe X is true”. In addition, the closer a belief is to the data it seeks to reflect (the closer the map to the territory) the further we are from a prejudice and the closer we are to a belief. Or are we? I wonder if, insofar as there is any gap between the map and the territory, there is always the risk of prejudice, of bias favourable or unfavourable.

I wonder, what are your views?

Responding to anger: getting ready to reach out

The “meta-mirror”, a tool from the kitbag of neuro-linguistic programming, is a powerful way to explore a difficult relationship in the privacy of a quiet space. The emphasis is on one’s own learning. After all, as hard as it is, we can’t do other’s learning for them.

I have already been reflecting on a conversation with a colleague at a time when he was feeling anger in response to something I had done. I know that there’s something that I’m needing still before I either go back to my colleague or choose to walk away.

The first step in the meta-mirror is to step firmly into one’s own shoes and to express whatever comes up in relation to another person. I am surprised when the first thing that comes up is a sense of anger that my colleague spoke to me in the way he did, knowing that he has the tools to own his anger and even to transform it. I thought I had left this anger behind.

I am also surprised to learn something else – that just a fraction below the surface I am “beating myself up” about my own contribution to this conversation. It seems I would like to have handled this conversation with a level of grace I didn’t manage to call on at the time. There’s something else, too – I realise I’m not quite ready openly to say “I won’t speak with you as long as you talk to me in this way. Come back when you’re ready to take responsibility for your anger”. Perhaps, in the language of my colleagues these are my own “needs behind the need” – the things I’m hiding from by holding on to my anger.

With this recognition, I can feel my anger slipping away and a sense of compassion – for myself, for my colleague – emerging. I wonder if he, too, has been beating himself up since we spoke.

With this renewed sense of compassion I complete the meta-mirror process, stepping into my colleague’s shoes before stepping back to observe myself from a distance (“How does this you here respond to that you there?”). It seems I have already found the compassion I was missing – for myself, for my colleague.

It’s not that I have changed my mind about the way my colleague spoke to me. I haven’t. Still, I am ready to speak to him to see if he, too, wants to connect so that we can reach a place of mutual understanding.

I am not wedded to any particular outcome – just ready to initiate the conversation.

Responding to anger: connecting with my colleague’s unmet needs

In the process of reviewing my experience – of talking with a colleague at a time when he was feeling anger in response to something I had done – it’s important to me to understand the needs of my colleague as well as my own.

As I review my experience of our conversation, I recognise that I know what actions I took that stimulated anger in him and I know that they did indeed stimulate anger in him and still, I don’t understand why. My colleague gave me an explanation which I didn’t truly understand. They were not actions that, if anyone had else had taken them, were likely to stimulate a similar response in me.

This is not to dismiss the experience of my colleague. Rather, simply, I recognise that I didn’t take the information from our conversation that would help me truly to connect with him or to understand his needs. I notice that without this depth of understanding I feel unable to respond to his needs from the place I treasure so much and aspire to right now – a place of empathy and compassion.

I am curious, too, about some of the comments my colleagues have made to me. They have reminded me of something that I already know – that as well as the needs which my colleague has sought openly to address in our conversation there may be other needs which he sought to meet in our conversation by holding onto his anger and the thinking that lies beneath his anger. One colleague described these as “the needs behind the need”. I can only guess what these needs might be.

Even as I write I recognise one implication for me – and for our relationship with each other – of this lack of shared and mutual empathy and understanding. For when there is a conflict or misunderstanding there is also an opportunity for learning, healing and resolution. This takes place when both parties can fully understand each other’s needs, can understand the impact each of their own behaviour on each other’s needs, and can honestly and sincerely express regret for any behaviours they wish they had not taken and commit to do something different in future. I don’t have any sense of regret at this stage for anything I have done though I might do with a deeper understanding of my colleague’s needs. Nor has my colleague expressed any regret for his behaviour though I hope that he, too, might do so from a place of greater understanding.

I wonder, what next? And I decide to take a next step. It is a step of inner dialogue with both myself and my colleague, using an approach from the “kitbag” of Neurolinguistic Programming – the meta-mirror.

Responding to anger: connecting with my unmet needs

Taking time to review my experience – of talking with a colleague at a time when he was feeling anger in response to something I had done – I recognise how little my needs were met during our conversation.

Connecting with my needs, rather than focusing on the actions my colleague took which stimulated anger in me, is a way to transform my anger. By transforming my anger I have a better chance to meet my needs. These include my deep need to live my life in alignment with my chosen values, including my values of nonviolence. Choosing to transform my anger into a deeper understanding of my needs is one process offered by Marshall Rosenberg in the process he calls Nonviolent Communication (or NVC).

It’s easy to see that the exchange we had did not meet many needs that I have in relationships. It has been my choice over time to seek out those people – friends, family, colleagues, clients – with whom a quality of communication is possible which contributes equally and effectively to the well-being of everyone involved. At best these relationships are rooted in a deep sense of mutual respect and affection. At best they honour each person’s needs fully and equally.

I recognise how much this is a matter of intention for me. I want to attract those people into my life who share my intention to create nonviolent, mutually enriching “win, win” relationships and who choose to invest in the fulfilment of this intention. In practice, I have discovered that they do this both by developing what one colleague refers to as the “skilful means” needed to translate this intention into practice and by choosing to deploy them.

It would be easy to conclude that my needs are better met in other relationships and to walk away – at least in theory. Still, recognising my needs does not in itself give me a sense of closure. I wonder if this is because I also have a need to contribute to the well-being and learning of others, in this case my colleague. It’s not just that I feel some disappointment that our conversation was not in itself more enriching for my colleague. I also have a sense that to walk away would not meet my need to contribute. At least at first glance, it seems I have conflicting needs. I know I need to reconcile these if I am to find my way forward. I sense that there’s something here that I have not yet seen – something that is at my growing edge.

Perhaps there’s another, related, question. What are the needs of my colleague? What needs was he seeking to meet when he picked up the phone and called me? I decide this is the next question I want to explore.

Responding to anger: what am I bringing?

Last week I wrote a posting entitled When does “not having learned yet” become a positive choice? I was interested in the views of colleagues as I reflected on my experience of talking to a colleague whilst he was feeling angry with me. I also shared this issue with my colleagues on the Training Journal Daily Digest – some of whom shared their comments here. I feel immense gratitude to my colleagues for their sharing which offered me a diversity of views and perspectives.

Today, one colleague asked what one of my clients might call the “killer question”. Are you really asking us to say, “your colleague is wrong and he shouldn’t act the way he has. But Dorothy, you’re ok”? I notice this question hits a delicate spot – after all, what could be more ironic than being angry with a colleague for being angry with me? I take time to reflect.

I’m aware that the experience of having someone who I know to be trained and experienced in Nonviolent Communication stimulated anger in me. How could they have tools at their disposal to engage with and transform their anger and, apparently, choose not to use them before phoning me to speak? I know that it’s this decision that stimulated anger in me.

I give myself compassion for this initial response. With all the training and experience I have to think in this way (NVC Practitioners call it “jackal” talk whilst some refer to this way of thinking as a “gremlin”) there will be times when my initial response comes from this place. I also know that directing my judgments towards my colleague can protect my from my own inner self critic – who can be so, so harsh!

Still, I am aware that by the time my colleague asks this question my anger is long since gone and something else is at play. My anger points to needs I have that were not met in my conversation with my colleague. It’s important to me to examine my needs and to ponder how best to meet them.

Needs: the great taboo

In our Western society, I sometimes wonder if needs are not the great taboo. It seems that it’s important to be considerate of others’ needs and at the same time unacceptable to give thought to our own.

This leads to all sorts of strange behaviours as we seek to meet our own behaviours “by the back door”. In the workplace we accuse each other of “hidden agendas” and, in truth, these are often hidden from ourselves. In personal relationships we carry the pain that comes from years of trying unsuccessfully to meet the needs we bring to a relationship without even knowing that this is what we are trying to do.

No wonder, then, that when clients come to coaching they often bump into questions around needs that have been beckoning for a long time. What are my needs and how can I know what they are? Am I giving myself permission to meet my needs? And if not, how do I give myself that permission after all these years? And what strategies can I develop that will help me meet my needs?

Today I offer a few suggestions to a client who is just beginning to explore these questions – suggestions which I also offer here. The list below is a “pick’n’mix”! I invite you to be playful (rather than workful) about this – choose any and as many as look fun for you to explore:

· Read Marshall Rosenberg’s book Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life or look up Nonviolent Communication on the internet – there’s lots of great stuff out there;
· Ask yourself what needs you and others have. And in case you’d like some inspiration here’s a link to the list that appears in Marshall’s book: http://www.cnvc.org/en/learn-online/needs-list/needs-inventory. You might like to ask yourself, what needs have you met most fully in your life so far? What needs do you most yearn to meet in future?
· Get curious: notice what people do and how they do it to meet their needs. Ask yourself “what needs is this person trying to meet right now – and how?” There’s so much to explore here! How do people express their needs (explicitly, implicitly)? How do they make requests? And so on. You might like to ask yourself who you most enjoy being around and notice how they, in particular, meet their needs;
· You might be interested to notice your family’s favourite strategies to meet needs. Questions to ask might include: What behaviours are most strongly encouraged in my family? What needs do these behaviours meet for the person who encourages them? What needs do these behaviours meet for the person who agrees to behave in these ways? What behaviours are most strongly discouraged in my family? What needs are met for the person who discourages them? What needs are met for the person who agrees to avoid behaving in these ways? You can apply the same questions in other settings, at work for example and in your leisure activities;
· Start to notice your own needs: for example, notice your emotions and ask yourself what they are telling you about your needs. Are they signalling needs met (emotions such as peace, joy, satisfaction)? Are they signalling needs that have yet to be met (emotions such as yearning, irritation, discomfort etc.)?

When does “not having learned yet” become a positive choice?

Last week I fielded a call from a colleague in the world of Nonviolent Communication. He let me know that I’d taken some actions that hadn’t met his needs and made some requests of me to support him in meeting his needs. So far, so good – this was what sometimes gets described as “classical” Nonviolent Communication.

There was something else, too. I sensed anger and I asked my colleague if he was feeling angry to which he replied that he was. I found it difficult to have a productive conversation – one that met both our needs and served to build and maintain trust – as long as my colleague was speaking from a place of anger with its implicit belief that I was responsible both for his angry feelings and for taking actions to meet his needs.

Marshall Rosenberg, the originator of Nonviolent Communication often teaches that some forms of expression are a “tragic expression of an unmet need” – tragic, because as strategies for meeting one’s needs go, they are highly likely to fail. As an alternative, Rosenberg invites his students to transform anger into a deeper understanding of their needs. So, when another’s action stimulates anger, you might choose to ask for help in transforming your anger or to do this work yourself. Having done that, you are in a strong position to share your needs in ways another person can hear. In this way, you are more likely to have a productive conversation.

My experience with my colleague raised an important question for me – one that I bump into from time to time: at what point does “not having learned yet” become a positive choice for which one is solely responsible? If I accept that we are all doing the best we know how at a given point in time and acting from a positive intention (no matter how effective or ineffective our strategy) my choice of response might be wholly different to the response I might choose if I take a different view – that the person concerned has the tools he or she needs to speak in ways which are supportive to us both and has chosen not to use them.

Looking forward, I’m wondering whether I might, in future, begin a conversation like this by asking for clarity: dear colleague, are you asking for me to support you as you seek to transform your anger and clarify your needs? Or are you – from a place of anger – wanting me to take responsibility for your feelings of anger and for taking some actions that might make you feel better? And having clarifed my colleague’s requests I might choose to say yes – or no.

This example is but one of many and it’s focused on those people who have studied what it takes to be effective (whether via a professional coaching training, Neurolinguistic Programming, Nonviolent Communication or some other training). This is before one even considers a further question: and what about those people who choose not to hear the feedback that might lead them to embark on a course of learning?

I wonder, what are your views?

Being “at choice”: placing your life in your own hands

Oona Collins*, when she was my coach, reminded me often that “you can’t change the others, you can only change yourself”. I continue to be grateful for this sage piece of advice and to practise building the muscle of focusing on what I can do and of letting go of those things over which I have no control.

I am reminded of this today when, working with one of my clients, we discover the seesaw of emotions she feels as her attention moves between those things she is doing to move things forward and those things that are outside her control. As our call draws to a close she commits to notice where she is placing her attention and where she could be placing it in order to increase her sense that her life is indeed, in her own hands.

My client is not the first person (nor will she be the last) to experience intense changes of mood which depend on knowing – or not knowing – just how much she can effect the course of her life. For many clients, increasing their understanding of the extent to which their life is determined by their own choices – known as being “at choice” and even “at cause” – is the key learning they take away from working with a coach.

Of course, the challenge of learning to accept those things we cannot change whilst focusing on those we can has exercised many people over the centuries. Even as my call is drawing to a close I am recognising how much has been written on the subject and I offer to write a posting on my blog which shares some of the resources which support the practice of being at choice. Here are a few of the many resources that spring to mind:

  • Surely the classic text in this area is Viktor Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Meaning. Frankl famously observed how, even in the concentration camps in which he was prisoner during the Second World War, some prisioners found it in themselves to give away their last pieces of bread to comfort others and pointed to the freedom we all have: to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way;
  • Virginia Satir’s poem Self Esteem was written to support a young girl with whom she was spending time at the time of writing. This poem, available to read directly from a number of websites, highlights the extent to which we can choose who we are. It is also one of the texts included in Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen’s original Chicken Soup for the Soul;
  • I think also of Muriel James’ and Dorothy Jongeward’s book Born to Win and especially of their opening chapter with its vivid description of what it means to be a “winner” and a “loser”;
  • I think also of W. Timothy Gallwey’s book The Inner Game of Tennis which became an international bestseller – and a special favourite amongst businessmen and -women – when it was first published in 1974. Gallwey’s book is about the how of the inner mastery so many writers and deep thinkers point to;
  • Richard Wiseman’s The Luck Factor is also a firm favourite of mine. Wiseman, who offers the unusual combination of a Professorship in psychology and a career as a magician, offers many insights into the ways of thinking that people bring who think of themselves as “lucky”;
  • Last (for now) though by no means least is Michael Neill’s book Feel Happy Now! Like Gallwey’s Inner Game of Tennis, Feel Happy Now! is about the how of creating inner mastery.

I would add that my practical studies in both neuro-linguistic programming (NLP) and nonviolent communication (NVC) have offered highly effective ways to manage one’s inner response in order to feel at ease – no matter what.

Oh! And one of the most powerful practices in my own repertoire is the practise of celebrating. This helps me to connect with the actions – whether my own actions or the actions of others – that support me in meeting my needs. I wrote about my own approach to celebration at http://dorothynesbit.blogspot.com/2009/06/gratitude-when-youre-needing-fuel-for.html

*Oona’s website is at http://www.potentialplus.co.uk/