tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20903876184849838862024-03-18T02:34:29.978-05:00Laird's Commentary on Community and ConsensusFor 25+ years I’ve been a community networker & group process consultant. I believe that people today are starved for community—for a greater sense of belonging and connection—and I’ve dedicated my life to making available as widely as possible the tools and inspiration of cooperative living. I’m on the road half the time teaching groups consensus, meeting facilitation, and how to work with conflict. This blog is a collection of my observations and musings along the way.Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.comBlogger1236125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-37698822048656645632024-02-15T13:07:00.000-06:002024-02-15T13:07:32.605-06:00Trusting Your Gut as a Facilitator<p><span style="font-family: arial;">For the last two decades, the most complex and fun thing I do on a regular basis is train facilitators for working in cooperative culture.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Fundamental to my approach is teaching the necessity (and skill set) needed to work both rationally (with ideas) and emotionally (with energy). That said, humans are a good deal more complex than just those two components, and I want to focus today on working intuitively—knowing when to do something because it <i>feels</i> right, whether you can explain it or not.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">To be fair, for most people this is not accessible when they first learn to facilitate, because they don't yet have sufficient body knowing in the role of facilitator to access subconscious inspirations, or sufficient grounding to trust such inspirations.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But you can get there, and I think I do some of my best work when I allow my gut to enter into an internal dialog with my head and heart about what to do. This shows up in a couple ways.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Planning</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">About 15 months ago I did 10 days of work in person with a longstanding group that was deeply divided over who they were now that the kids had grown up and started questioning the course that had been laid out by their elders. They were stuck and wanted outside facilitation to guide them through an attempt to figure out whether there was any hope of reconciliation or whether it was time to seek an amicable divorce.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The personal strain among members was so bad that there had been moments of near physical violence, which is not something I commonly encounter. Working with a dear friend and fellow facilitator, Sarah Ross, we were given a small suite of rooms in the basement of the common house, where we could meet with individuals when they wanted to confer with us, and where we could discuss between us what was happening in the group and how best to proceed. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Each night Sarah and I would talk over where we were, and where we might go next, and I'd go to bed with an open mind about how to start the next day. By placing that question in the center of my attention as my last conscious thought, my subconscious would chew on it overnight, and every morning I awoke with clarity about how to proceed. I did this every day for nine days, and came to trust it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While I love working this way, it's quite rare to get the chance to be with a group for that long a stretch. More commonly, the longest I have is from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon, which means only two overnights.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">In the moment</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In addition to dreaming into the future (described above), there is a more immediate version of intuition playing a key role in my facilitation. Often enough, someone will tell a story about how something has gone wrong for them, or they're afraid that it will, and I have learned in those moments to try to let myself feel into their reality and imagine what that might be like—to get what they're describing viscerally, not just rationally. For a few minutes, I try to be in their skin, and reflect back what I imagine them to have experienced, with explicit attention to the emotions.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When I get this right (practice helps), it builds a bridge to that person, who might otherwise feel isolated and is likely to not trust that they have been accurately heard or held. They are able to exhale, and they become more available to hear what others are saying. This step both deepens the conversation (legitimizing emotional experiences and impact) and deescalates tension—both of which can be highly beneficial. To be clear, I am not "taking their side"; I am <i>becoming</i> them, temporarily—a facility I make available to others in the room as well.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Sometimes new facilitators report that they are too empathic, by which they mean they can get so entangled in another's story that they lose track of who and where they are. For reasons that are not entirely clear to me, I don't have that problem. I know what I'm doing when I try on another's footwear. While I may or may not do a good job of reading the other's reality, I never lose sight of why I'm doing it, or who I am. I never worry about losing track of what's me, and what's astral projection. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Taken another step, once you have a bead on an outlier's reality, you have invaluable clues about how to build a bridge to them when it comes to problem solving.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-32331109672780505522024-01-29T17:59:00.002-06:002024-01-29T17:59:39.747-06:00Getting in Touch with me Directly<p><span style="font-family: arial;">A reader just posted this Comment on my blog:</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #37474f; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Is there a good email or preferred way to reach you directly?</i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">laird@ic.org</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-44137801583065249362024-01-28T11:35:00.000-06:002024-01-28T11:35:01.206-06:00The Art of the Report<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Early in my 35-year career as a group dynamics professional, I became aware that most people only digest and retain about 20% of what happens when I work with them. Ugh.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I believe there are many reasons for this:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—There's typically a lot going on, and it's easy to drop stitches. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—The tendency to be so self-absorbed (how does this impact <i>me</i>?) that they miss the bigger picture. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—A lot of folks aren't that good at listening. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Being too embarrassed to admit when you're confused, and thus failing to ask questions to better understand. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Not being open to new ideas (because you're so invested in the old ones—even when they're demonstrably not working).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As a consequence of this insight, I developed the habit of writing an after action report, in which I carefully go over what happened while I was with them, plus what I observed and what I recommend going forward. Even though there is often little that's new in these reports (from what the group was given orally while I was with them), a good report can significantly enhance what the group can make use of.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">OK, so what constitutes a "good report"? Good question.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While not a court transcript, it should, I believe, cover the flow and sequence of the conversation, and succinctly identify the themes, conclusions, and next steps that emerge from each segment of the work. It should incorporate reflections about the energy in the room, not just the ideas. It should also capture unfinished business which either surfaced tangentially, or for which there wasn't time to address.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Writing a thorough report takes me about as much time as the meeting itself. Why so long? Partly because many people won't read a longer report and it can take me a while to boil down my comments to what I consider essential. (There is a quote attributable to Mark Twain that applies here: <i>I apologize for such a long letter—I didn't have time to write a short one</i>.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In my experience, concision—making one's point clearly, yet with an economy of words—is often the last skill learned among speakers and writers.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">All of that said, there are a few other things I try to include in group reports:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Any insights into the dynamics of that particular group that went unnamed while I was present. This may mean looking more deeply into what I noticed happening, or illuminating the awkward interplay of multiple activities that are not in and of themselves problematic.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• An analysis of why certain practices can lead to deleterious consequences, and offering specific advice about how to accomplish the same result with a different approach that's less freighted with danger.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• When offering critical feedback I try hard to be specific and direct (notice when X said this and Y responded in this way, leading to this misunderstanding or that degree of reactivity).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• When groups are doing well, I make an effort to celebrate their strengths as well as the ways in which they might improve. (All sulphur and no molasses makes for a mean diet.)</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">The Essential Ingredients to Excellent Reportage</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">1. Careful observation. Hidden in this criterion is the need for a large degree of free attention, so that you don't miss subtleties.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">2. Good notes (don't expect to hold everything in your head).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">3. The capacity to shift perspectives and see what's happening through the eyes of the various players. Actual evil, by which I mean intentional mischief or harm, is much rarer than is supposed—in general, people intend well, and it's your job as reporter to frame your comments in such a way that good intentions are honored, while not neglecting to illuminate concerns. It's an art.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">3. The ability to write clearly (which, sadly, is less common than one would hope). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">4. Timeliness (I have a personal standard of trying to complete reports within two weeks of finishing an in-person stint).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While not rocket science, neither is good reportage accidental. It's a discipline, and well worth cultivating if you want to be effective in the world.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">A final word: please don't let my laundry list of how to author good reports overwhelm you from trying (<i>since I can't imagine ever getting that good, why try?</i>). <u>Any</u> reporting can be worthwhile, so long is it's an accurate reflection of what you observed, and delivered in a compassionate and even-handed voice.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-65013795300854184782024-01-20T15:03:00.000-06:002024-01-20T15:03:12.595-06:00The Dynamics When Someone Gets Upset and Walks Out of a Meeting<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Working with a group of nascent facilitators last month, the question came up: What do you do when someone leaves a unfinished meeting in distress, triggered by something that happened inthe room (not because they suddenly remembered they have to pick up their kid from cello practice)?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While it's not something you want to have happen, most of us have experienced it—especially if you've been living in intentional community for any length of time, and it feels yucky. It feels like a failure. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">[One of my mentors, Caroline Estes, use to say that if you're not thinking about leaving the group at least once every three months, you're either ducking the hard stuff, or you're not paying attention. The idea is that reactivity is to be expected when you engage on issues that matter and about which people disagree, and this may cause you to be fed up with people's stubbornness (attachment to getting their way), or it may cause you to question whether you are in the right group.]</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In any event, I want to tackle this apple in three bites:</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Bite I: Missing or Ignoring the Signs</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Version A: If someone goes from placid to postal in a matter of seconds, it almost certainly indicates that they came into the meeting already amped up about an unresolved dynamic, which or may not be related to the topic at hand (sometimes the tension is with an individual or with a committee, and just hearing them speak sets the person off). Or it may be that they have built-up frustration with how the group has handled the topic under discussion and they are now on a hair trigger. In any event, it's rare that no one is aware that this person (let's call them Person D) is churning about something. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Version B: In this scenario, the reactivity builds over the course of the meeting until it boils over, and Person D leaves, usually in anger or in tears. Their circuits are overloaded, they are unable to take in any more information, and they may be afraid they'll say or do something from frustration that they'll regret later. Having no confidence in the group's willingness or ability to work with their upset, they depart the scene.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In both versions, I'm wondering about the group's commitment to working emotionally, or its ability to do so effectively. To be sure, this is not a minor deal—agreeing to work with emotions—nor is it a trivial skill to do with sensitivity and neutrality, yet I believe both elements are essential to creating high-functioning cooperative groups. And really, do we have a choice? People are not just thinking animals, we are feeling animals as well. It's a package deal. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While some in the group are likely to be more emotionally (or relationally) oriented, while others are more rationally (or idea) oriented, it goes with the territory that both will be present whenever groups gather, and I've come to the view that it works much better if you acknowledge that, and learn to work both sides of the street—instead of holding onto the ridiculous notion that feelings have no place in meetings (which comes directly from a mainstream culture that tries to do just that, and pays an enormous price in terms of alienation, and dissipated energy)—as if using only one of your tools is better than using more of them.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">(Please understand that I am not saying that strong feelings are in play with every topic, yet neither will they be rare.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When there is no agreement to engage emotionally, people learn to try to quash their feelings (rather than suffer the group's disapproval over their "loss of control") or to not speak up when they notice that others seem to be struggling (due to lack of agency). Not only do you lose the attention of the person in distress, but those noticing the person going into distress will be distracted by their rising reactivity, wondering what it means, and whether there might be an eruption. Very distracting, and very messy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For information about how effective emotional engagement might look, reference these blog entries:</span></p><p><a href="https://communityandconsensus.blogspot.com/2021/09/questions-about-working-with-emotions.html"><span style="font-family: arial;">Questions About Working with Emotions in Group</span></a></p><p><a href="https://communityandconsensus.blogspot.com/2018/08/key-facilitation-skills-working.html"><span style="font-family: arial;">Key Facilitation Skills: Working Constructively with Emotions</span></a></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Bite II: OK, So We Didn't Catch it Before it Happened—Now What?</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Regardless of what opportunities to work with the tensions were missed before person D walks (or storms) out of the meeting, what are your options once they have?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It's been my experience that people in high distress generally feel isolated and don't trust that they have been understood, or even that others want to know what's going on for them. With that in mind, I believe that the first step in compassionate deescalation is to reach out to the disaffected person in an attempt to show them you care—both about them and their views.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">How do you do that? By inviting Person D to tell you what happened for them, expressly <u>including the feelings</u>, and what the meaning is for them of their reaction. If some of that has already happened (perhaps before the walkout), then the person engaging with Person D can start with an attempted reflection of both their views and their feelings, staying with it until Person D reports that they feel heard. This should always be deescalating—because you are contradicting the isolation, and everyone likes to be understood and cared about.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Note that I am <u>not</u> saying you need to agree with them. Nor should you promise that Person D will get their way or have their views weighted more seriously by virtue of having gotten upset.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If you are facilitating alone, and there is no one suitable or willing to be the group's ambassador to Person D, you must decide whether to postpone reaching out to them until after the meeting, or call a break during which you attempt this in the moment. This can be a tough call.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If you decide to do it afterwards, you can handle this yourself. Be aware though, that in staying with the meeting, that it may well make more sense to suspend what you had been doing right before the walkout to hear people's reactions to Person D's departure, and perhaps what led up to it. In serious cases, this could be the remainder of the meeting. What's more, you should be prepared to offer Persom D a summary of what was said about them after they left the meeting.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If you decide Person D's departure is better addressed immediately, you have a number of options, including:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• If you are team facilitating, one of your number can seek out Person D while others continue the meeting.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• If that's not available, you might ask someone from your Conflict Resolution Team to step up—if such exists.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Finally, you might ask for a volunteer to do so (while the meeting continues under your facilitation), if you think there are people in the group who have a sense of how to do this with compassion and sensitivity.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Bite III. Impact on the Group</span></b></p><p><i><span style="font-family: arial;">—If you don't engage with Person D's emotions</span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In my view, attempting to pick up the meeting again at the point of interruption, and acting as if the eruption didn't happen, is a highly questionable choice. Not only will it be hard to do (at the very least, people will need a moment or two to stand and shake out the adrenaline), but some will almost certainly have their attention on processing what happened, rather than on the meeting agenda, which will significantly complicate doing good work.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">By "engaging with Person D's emotions" I do not mean judging them for being upset, or even for walking out. I mean sharing reactions to what happened, what people understood about Person D's experience, and how the group might have handled it better.</span></p><p><i><span style="font-family: arial;">—If you attempt to engage with Person D's feelings but they jump ship anyway</span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Even if you are persuaded by my argument for trying to understand what's going on for someone when they're triggered, there's no guarantee that the attempt will succeed in reestablishing a connection. Person D may remain upset, and leave the room in frustration. In fact, done poorly, you may make things worse. Which is undoubtedly why it's so popular to not attempt it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Going the other way, however, there's opportunity for making things much better. Knowing that, I encourage all facilitators to try to develop their capacity to work with feelings (as well as ideas), and to live in the place of hope, possibility, and courage.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-84512830236947790312023-11-19T12:05:00.000-06:002023-11-19T12:05:18.597-06:00Why I Never Say "Compromise" When Facilitating<p><span style="font-family: arial;">As a consensus facilitator, I am constantly trying to make it easier for everyone to contribute what they have that's relevant to the conversation. Then I do what I can to establish how those contributions are rooted in a reasonable interpretation of group values (and therefore worthy of taking into account), as distinct from personal preferences. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">About this time, I generally point out that the right to offer one's views and have them be taken seriously is tied at the hip to the responsibility to treat respectfully the views that differ from theirs and have been similarly vetted.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Absent this framing, it's relatively common for groups to get bogged down with people who are inspired to defend their viewpoints because they are tied to common values—accusing those with disparate views of being selfish and not thinking of what's best for the group. In short, such folks believe they are holding the high moral ground and defending the group against self-centered marauders. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But let's break this down. suppose one segment of the group favors installing solar panels on the roof of the common house. While there is an initial capital outlay, it will repay itself over time in lower utility bills and is in line with the group's commitment to being environmentally responsible (which we'll refer to as common value E, for ecological impact). What's not to like? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now let's imagine there is another segment of the group that objects to this action, because HOA dues will go up (at least temporarily) to fund this project and they are hanging on by their fingernails to meet current HOA dues. They are afraid of being priced out. Their concern is grounded in the group's commitment to being affordable (which we'll cleverly label value A). They feel solid in raising their concerns about the solar panels.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The key to keeping the conversation away from tug-of-war energy (which is rarely productive and feels yucky) is laying out that being concerned with common value A is not tantamount with being anti-environmental. Just as being promotional of value E does not mean you're oblivious to concerns about affordability.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While I'm not saying people are never selfish, mostly they're reasonable and the thing I need to do in a situation like the above is to establish that no one is holding the high morale ground (so please check your righteousness at the door). The challenge is figuring out how to balance these two values in this situation. Who has ideas about how to fund the solar panels without pricing residents out of the community?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">What I <u>don't</u> suggest is a compromise, which might look something like "Lets' buy half the solar panels now so the strain on budgets is more tolerable, and look at buying the other half later." I do not favor cutting the baby in half. Instead I work hard to get the group to see that no one is in the wrong place or saying anything inappropriate. You are on the same team. Who has ideas about how to move forward in such a way that both sides' concerns are addressed?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Examples of what this might look: a) borrowing money from the capital fund to finance the solar panels (with the understanding that the fund will be replenished with the money saved on utility bills; b) perhaps one or more members with deep pockets would be willing to front the purchase price of the solar panels, to be repaid by savings from utility bills; or c) maybe the group could do a series of fundraising event to generate the money needed for the panels, so that they can be a model for the neighborhood.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Do you see how all of these potential solutions respect both core values in play, and do not call for anyone to compromise their principles?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While I believe that the good intention behind asking people to compromise (or to accept that a proposed solution is "good enough for now") is to get everyone to recognize that we won't get out of a stalemate if no one moves, this framing has more than a whiff of least common denominator, and lukewarm energy. It's invites the group to settle for a "solution" that's equally painful to all parties, and generally lacks dynamism. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The key to finding creative solutions—perhaps ones that no one had in mind at the start of the meeting—is holding the group in a space where they believe that synergy and magic are possible, and the group has learned to appreciate the breadth of differing viewpoints for its ability to broaden the foundation, rather than dreading their expression as a complication.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Yes, this is radical stuff. But <i>way</i> better than pressuring one another to compromise, or to try to carry the day through the dubious strategy of stating one's preference repeatedly in the vain hope that you'll wear down the opposition through persistence, perhaps accompanied by steadily increasing shrillness. Have you ever been in that meeting? They're exhausting, and strain the fabric of the community.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-59729600321190135622023-10-22T16:59:00.000-05:002023-10-22T16:59:36.052-05:00What I Think I'm Good at as a Facilitator<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Lately I've been wrestling with some health issues related to my dance with multiple myeloma, which brings into sharper focus my mortality. In consequence, I've been thinking a good deal the last month about how to wrap things up, how to hand off, and what I still want to say in this forum. Today's entry falls into this last bucket.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I've been a professional facilitator since 1987—about half my life. So what, after all these years, do I think I'm <i>really</i> good at as a facilitator of groups who desire inclusive outcomes? To be clear, I'm not talking about things I alone can do; just the things I can do consistently at a high level, and which I hope are both useful and aspirational.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In no particular order, here's my list—all of which are learnable: </span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">1. I'm fluent in the language of numbers</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Math has always come easily for me, and it took quite a while to understand that that's relatively rare. That is, many people zone out when numbers enter the conversation. They may not understand which numbers are important, or how to display them to illuminate an issue. Most groups defer to those who claim facility with numbers and hope for the best. Thus, it's an advantage that I can wade into numbers and sort out what's happening in short order. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While not every issue has a significant financial component, many do, and I can ride the waves.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">2. I'm good in a storm </span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">By which I mean I don't lose my center in the midst of high reactivity. If anything, the moment slows down for me when people go into emotional distress. (For one thing, I don't have to guess what's going on; upset people are going to tell me.) The leverage point here is that I don't get tense when someone else gets tense. Emotional reactions are normal (part of the range of human response) and I've learned to treat them as data and energy, both of which can be highly beneficial—if you learn to see them that way and how to work with them constructively.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When groups do not have an understanding about working with emotions, or any agreement about how to do it, there tends to be considerable nervousness about how to proceed in the presence of high reactivity, accompanied by a strong vibe that expressing upset is immature and inappropriate (we were having a civil conversation until you erupted).</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">3. Pinning down details</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While this tends to be a non-sexy mop-up phase of working an issue, I'm diligent about who will do what, by when, with what resources, in collaboration with whom, and with what expectations around reporting along the way. When implementation details are left unspecified, you often have to come back later. and clean up the ends you left loose. Inefficient.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">4. Finding suitable homes for orphans and loose ends</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It's not at all unusual for something to surface in the context of working an issue that is beyond what you agreed to address. While it may be appropriate to tackle at the group level, you may not have time to deal with it in the moment. Perhaps it's an expansion of the topic at hand, or maybe it's something tangential. In either case, I don't let the group go there—unless it makes an explicit decision to do so—and I'm good at seeing that such items are assigned a shepherd so that the topic comes back in an orderly way.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>5. Adept at separating wheat from chaff </b>(or signal from noise, choose your metaphor)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">There is an art to sussing out which pieces of information or viewpoints are crucial to a consideration, or might become serviceable bridge planks connecting people who see an issue differently. Some of this is discarding repetitive or off-center statements; some of it is noticing when there is an energetic surge in the room when someone offers something potent.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This shows up in tight summaries, and the ability to highlight leverage points when a group struggles to find the balance point among strongly held differences. It is not necessary to include <i>all</i> input in a summary, so long as you include the key pieces, which helps participants feel heard and establishes forward momentum, from which workable solutions can be build.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">6. Extracting all the product possible in the last 5 minutes of a consideration</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is a special application of the last point—understanding what's possible toward the end of the time allotted to work an issue. Often there is potential agreement that is in the air but not yet widely seen or made explicit—product that will dissipate if not identified and validated in the moment—product which will have to be reassembled later, brick by brick.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Many times this is partial product rather than final solutions, but it all counts and helps people feel good about having participated in the meeting.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">7. Constantly shifting the lens through which I experience a meeting</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This has at least three components: I'm tracking a) ideas, b) energy, and c) time. I am not doing these things simultaneously, but sequentially, over and over—without drawing the group's attention to where my focus is at any given moment.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The sum of these assessments helps me determine what is the best use of the group's time <i>in the moment</i>, and is constantly shifting. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>8. Ability to work fluently with both ideas and energ</b>y</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As a subset of the previous point, I purposefully attempt to ride both horses whenever I facilitate, weighing such disparate factors as where is the conversation going, who haven't we heard from, do I detect tension or boredom in the group, is the group engaged or listless, which ideas seem to have landed mostly strongly, where is there resistance to the main thrust of the conversation, and what does it mean?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In particular, I have a facility for working with the non-rational, as well as the rational, which can be a significant aid in participants feeling that I am present for what they have to contribute, and will be an ally in their views being accurately understood.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">9. My energetic range of engagement</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While my default mode is up-tempo and high energy, I am able to slow down and soften my approach when I sense that shift is called for (say, when a person is in tears, or sharing something vulnerable with the group). I am much more effective as a facilitator when I'm able to bring my energy into alignment with that of the speaker, and that calls for range.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">10. Understanding the myriad ways in which groups of people will necessarily contain considerable diversity, and the power of offering a variety of on-ramps into conversations</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While most cooperative groups include a commitment to diversity among their common values, few have actually talked through what that means. For the most part they are thinking about not discriminating on the basis of factors protected by Fair Housing laws (ethnicity, race, religious preference, sexual orientation, gender, age, and the like). But diversity shows up in many more ways than that (for example, high structure/low structure, risk tolerant/risk averse, fast thinkers/slow thinkers, introverts/extroverts, people who love speaking in front of 30 people/those who are scared to death of public speaking).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When groups fail to understand that such diversity is present, they tend to default into operating in ways that are most comfortable to those with the strongest voices (or those who were there first), with the unintended consequence that others feel marginalized and unwelcome—which is rarely intentional, or helpful.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Aware of this dynamic (and the tendency for it being a blind spot) I'll conduct my work with a variety of formats, greatly increasing the likelihood that there will be something for everyone.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">11. Information is concentrated in resistance</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I try to be sensitive to signs of resistance in the group, as it almost always indicates a tender spot that needs to be understood in order to solve the issue at hand. Instead of being irritated by resistance, I get curious about it. What does the reaction mean relative to the topic? How does the reaction give me clues about how to build bridge to that person?</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">12. The potency of passionate neutrality</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Many hold a model of the facilitator as someone who is dispassionate—who never loses their cool, and is always even-tempered. I'm not that guy. I figure if I'm going to ask meeting participants to show up with their whole selves, then I need to do so as well. This does not mean that I take sides (a facilitator non-no), but it does mean that I laugh, cheer, and express frustration. I'm human and I think it's a misstep to try to be an automaton. You need to be real.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">13. Why and how to integrate heart work with head work in the same meeting</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While there is increasing awareness among cooperative groups that room needs to be made for working emotionally, in many groups this translates to designating certain meetings as "heart circles" where reactions are explored but no decisions are made. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While this is better than never making space for emotional sharing at all, it's my belief that people are complicated all the time and groups are better served by allowing the widest possible range of human input all the time (rather than insisting that it be translated into rational statements in order to be seriously considered). Yes, this is a challenge—but so is group living. Operating as if rational input is the only kind that's legitimate means cutting yourself off from emotional, intuitive, spiritual, and kinesthetic knowing. How smart is that? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Over the course of my career as a facilitator I've learned when and how to offer ways to access these different kinds of knowing.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">14. Can hit the curve</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While it's always a good idea to have a clear plan for how to work an issue, sometimes, in the course of a meeting you encounter surprises. Now what? You have to be able to see that something unanticipated has occurred, assess its impact on your plan, and decide on the spot whether to continue with the path you'd laid out or start off-roading. This calls for courage, as the plan represents a safety net for some facilitators and they may be loath to give it up—even when it isn't working—because it's too scary to go off-script. </span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">15. Can see the bridge before others</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Most of us have been raised in competitive culture, one consequence of which is a conditioned psychological imperative to be able to identify one's personal contribution in any given situation—as it satisfies the need to see how we are unique. Thus, we tend to look for differences before we look for similarities when responding to the ideas of others. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Because I'm aware of this dynamic, I've worked hard to train myself to undo this conditioning, and to look for common ground before I look for ways in which ideas don't fit together well. As expectations have a profound impact on what you find, I tend to see solutions sooner than others, simply because that's what I'm looking for. </span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">16. Fearlessness</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While there's no question but that I sometimes get things wrong (perhaps I frame a conversation poorly, struggle to connect accurately with an isolated speaker, or push someone beyond their capacity), I am always going to try—excepting only when I see no hope of how my stepping in can be helpful‚ either because I have no clarity about how to connect with a person, or because I experience someone as completely barricaded against my observations and insights.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">That said, if I sense a way to name what's happening that has heretofore not been articulated, I am always going to try to offer that picture to the group. </span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">17. Weaving</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I've come to understand that I have an unusually large RAM (random access memory in IT parlance), which allows me to recall on Sunday afternoon what someone said Friday evening, demonstrating that I'm paying close attention to what people are saying, and am constantly looking for ways to put together elements from different speakers—both to reduce complexity to something more manageable, and to establish a broad foundation for potential solutions. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Understandably, people love it when the facilitator remembers what they said. To be clear, it's not a matter of my taking sides—it's a matter of my remembering and valuing their input. They don't have to repeat their view, or defend their turf, because I won't leave them behind.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">18. Reports</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This may seem like a mundane thing, but the standard for reports is actually quite low and there's an art to writing summaries that are pithy. yet complete and accessible. And I'm good at it. There was a time when I was essentially crafting a report (or a handout, or blog entry, or article for publication) nearly every day, and I honed my skills through years of practice.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As a facilitation trainer, I commit to giving students detailed reports of my observations about their efforts facilitating meetings that I have observed. It takes me about as much time to craft those reports as it does to observe the meetings, but it's an irreplaceable element of what I offer as a teacher and professional facilitator.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">19. Giving and receiving constructive feedback</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">One of the (many) areas in which cooperative culture strives to be different from mainstream culture, is when it comes to feedback. Because the mainstream models are generally atrocious, most of us come to community living with little understanding about how to do this cleanly. That's the bad news.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The good news is that it can be learned—and is well worth doing. As a trainer, it's imperative that I walk my talk on this, which means being willing to listen carefully to critical feedback with maximal openness and minimal defensiveness. To be sure, this isn't always easy, but it's important.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">20. Ability to walk in another's shoes</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When it's clear that someone is sharing from a depth of conviction, I try to feel into how the situation looks to that person, the better to "get" where they are coming from. When I do this well, and am able to demonstrate that level of understanding when reflecting back what they said, the speaker relaxes—because they have been understood—satisfying an almost universal human desire. </span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">21. Ability to speak plainly and accessibly</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As you can probably intuit from this blog, there is a fair amount of my speaking and writing, and I work hard at expressing myself in ways that are concise, memorable, and easy to understand. I do this by using plain language (not pedantic), employing apt metaphors, avoiding the passive voice, and not ducking the hard stuff. It's a dance, but I can hear the music.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-69946175724467915172023-08-02T17:03:00.001-05:002023-08-03T11:46:12.050-05:00Adapting to Reality<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Well, I saw an orthopedic specialist last week and it's official: my rotator cuff muscles are shot and I'm giving up my ambitions to become a Major League pitcher. I tell you, this growing older business comes at a cost and you have be nimble to keep up.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In the last couple years I've been focusing more on the challenges of aging, and adapting to a changing range of options. Many of the things I used to enjoy doing when younger are no longer possible, and I've had to reconfigure expectations to bring them into alignment with diminished capacities. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Part of this is giving up being John Wayne. These days I let my partner shovel the snow, mow the lawn, and schlep the heavy suitcases upstairs—because she's stronger than I am. Fortunately, there is still plenty I <i>can</i> do, and derive pleasure from, so I dwell there, instead of in the land of lament.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For example, I can still cook and get things done in the kitchen (even though I rely on a step stool these days to access the higher shelves), which is something I've always enjoyed and now have more time to indulge. While I no longer do concrete work, I took pleasure in repairing a wooden high chair this afternoon in anticipation of a visit next week from Susan's daughter (Britta) and eldest grandson, 4-year-old Nico.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And, knock on lignin, I still enjoy full cognitive capacity, which includes writing, teaching, facilitating, and playing duplicate bridge. I read voraciously (and eclectically), and Susan and I plot out vacations to exotic places, to spice up our days. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">(During a family reunion last month, I reconnected with a nephew who works for the State Dept and has just begun a three-year assignment in Melbourne, Australia. This inspired my daughter (Jo) and me to cook up a month-long once-in-a-lifetime trip to Oceania in December 2024—partners included—taking advantage of having family in country. We've already put down a deposit on a steeply discounted 10-day cruise from Sydney to New Zealand as part of the itinerary. We're pretty stoked. Jo is a terrier when it comes to organizing and sniffing out bargains, so mostly I just stand back and send in money when she tells me to. After a lifetime of handling my own logistics, which I still do for solo travel, it's a pleasure to turn it over to my competent daughter. I've always wondered what it would be like to fly halfway around the world—now it looks like I'll get to find out.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Though I have two flavors of cancer (multiple myeloma and prostate), both of which my oncologist has been clever enough to manage for me with minimal disruption of my everyday life (my pill regimen contains more syllables than you can imagine), it's a wondrous life, and I wouldn't miss it for anything.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-50941052160979308402023-06-04T15:43:00.001-05:002023-06-04T15:43:18.835-05:00Navigating the Boundary Between Transparency and Discretion<p><span style="font-family: arial;">This past week I received notice that <a href="https://www.gen-us.net/communities/"><i>Communities</i> magazine</a> is planning its winter issue on the theme of Privacy and Transparency. Reflecting on that inspired this monograph.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As a process consultant, I frequently get hired to work with groups bogged down in conflict—often intractable conflict, by which I mean the group has tried what it can think of doing on its own, and it's still stuck in the swamp.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Aside from the challenge of inviting groups into the chaotic, yet potent world of emotional exploration (which is </span><u style="font-family: arial;">always</u><span style="font-family: arial;"> an element of conflict), whenever a portion of my work is done on the side—in contrast with working the dynamic in the presence of the entire group—there arises a question about what, if anything, that gets disclosed in the examination is appropriate to share with the rest of the group.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Coming from the perspective of professional counseling and/or HR concerns, there is often a strong urge to shut it down, promising protagonists that nothing shared in the process of working through the conflict will be revealed to others. While well intended, I think, <u>in the context of community</u>, this is a big mistake.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Better, I believe, is that the group offer support to members working through conflict with the understanding <u>from the outset</u> that a summary of what comes out in the exploration will be shared with the rest of the group. Mind you, a summary—not a court transcript or a Zoom recording.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Here's how I think it should be set up. Someone should be assigned to drafting a neutral summary ahead of time (so that they are doing the work of gathering the needed information from the get-go), and after it has been drafted it should then be reviewed by the protagonists for acceptability before it's disseminated to the group. I think it's fine that this information not be shared outside the community except with the express permission of the people involved.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">To be clear, a good summary will include mention of people's emotional responses—that's part of the story. However, I know from experience (having personally crafted any number of these summaries) that you can adequately defang outbursts, such that you're accurately reporting the reactions, yet leaving out any name-calling or incendiary statements. This is not about voyeurism; it's about getting an overall sense of the full picture. Neglecting to mention that people are hopping mad (when in fact they are) doesn't help anyone understand what's truly happening.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Why do this? For a number of reasons:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• It's quite rare that no one in the group is aware of the tension being worked on, and in the absence of first-hand information about what's happening, people will speculate or make up stories to fill the void. A century ago, Mark Twain sagely observed, "<span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;">A lie can travel around the world and back again while the truth is lacing up its boots." Better, I think, is supplying the truth with slip-on footwear with good traction.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• Trust and good relationships are the lifeblood of community. Anything that impedes the flow of accurate information, however well-intentioned, degrades trust.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• One of the ways that bullies control the narrative and undercut attempts to hold them accountable for unacceptable behavior, is by isolating people and thereby dominating the story about what happened between themselves and others. It's their word against yours, and they'll make you pay for speaking out against them. (if you question whether people could really get away with such outrageous behavior, you need look no further than the popularity Donald Trump has enjoyed through outright lying, and attacking anyone who dares stand up to him.) It's much harder for this approach to be successful when everyone is current on what's going down.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• It's not unusual for the parties involved in the conflict to make agreements about doing things differently going forward, and these commitments tend to carry more gravitas when posted publicly (I'm not talking about printing minutes in the local newspaper; I'm talking about sharing summaries on the members-only community </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;">listserv).</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• Agreements made in the dynamic moment may be abundantly clear, yet that clarity is susceptible to serious erosion if not captured in writing. People's memories tend to diverge over time and hard-earned agreements have a way of slipping away if you're not diligent and capturing them in the moment.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• There can be confusion about what the Conflict Support Team is doing if they never report on their activities. How can the community reasonably evaluate the performance of a team that operates in secrecy?</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• When members work through tensions and reestablish repaired relationship, that's a success. Rather than worry about everyone knowing details about how you may have messed up, think of the benefit of everyone knowing how you owned up to deleterious impact, and labored to put things right.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• There is a marked tendency for people to behave better when they know that everyone is watching, or will be told how they behaved in a session set up to work through conflict.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A community is not just a random group of strangers—it's an aggregation of people who have explicitly agreed to create a cooperative culture based on a known vision and common values. They have committed to healthy relationships with one another, and cleaning up missteps as they occur. As a result, there is a different standard of compassion, accountability, and engagement and I am basing my recommendations on what will best serve those goals. Burying dirt under the carpet will not get the job done. It only leads to lumpy floors, and poor footing going forward.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">All of that said, you cannot expect group members to be of one mind about this without a conversation about its implications. That means you have to talk about how you want handle this at the time you establish the Conflict Support Team, and <i>before</i> you need to apply it to a specific situation—when the discussion will tend to be seen through the lens of how to manage a particular person, rather than what's best as a standard for everyone.</span></span></p><p><b style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-family: arial; font-size: 16px;">The Exception that Proves the Rule</b></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One more point. Although I support a baseline understanding that nothing gets disseminated about what occurred in a conflict clearing without the people involved in the conflict signing off on the summary, there is a circumstance where I think protagonists should <u>not</u> be permitted to block the sharing of discovered information—when the facilitators learn that something happened (or is reasonably likely to have happened) that puts the community at serious risk. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm thinking about major financial exposure, illegal activity, compromised member safety, a direct violation of a member agreement… those kinds of things. While such occurrences are rare (thankfully), they are not unknown, and there needs to be a clear path whereby the community is promptly informed about what has been learned, so that it can complete any investigation of events and determine the best course forward. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Note that if this occurs, the follow-up should be managed by a different configuration of people—<u>not</u> by the Conflict Support Team, as it's outside their mandate.</span></span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-70032497962646101332023-04-12T13:39:00.001-05:002023-04-12T13:39:54.250-05:00The Third Rail of Emotional Abuse<p><span style="font-family: arial;">I recently received this anonymous inquiry:</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm very curious about emotional abuse. I'm concerned about a community member who has a history of trauma and is also a trauma therapist who is twisting the words of others to cause them to feel bad about themselves. It feels like emotional abuse. We're working toward mediation process but I'm wondering how a conflict resolution team would work with this type of pattern.</span></i></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">While I know no more details about this situation than what's contained in the paragraph above, I think it's a good topic. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">At the outset, it's important to understand that I have no training in trauma response, per se, and do not consider myself an expert in that arena. That said, I do consider myself an expert on conflict in cooperative groups, and hold the view that it's imperative for cooperative groups to be able to work constructively with feelings (which are invariably in the room whether you have agreements about them or not, and undoubtedly are a central feature of trauma).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While it's up to each community to establish what protocols will serve the group best with respect to the emergence of conflict and non-trivial distress, here's how I would engage with the dynamic described by the inquirer:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Let's make this as messy as possible, and assume that there are at least three different perspectives on what was happening (where the same event was experienced first-hand by three different people, all of whom may be having a different response).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Let's say Pat is the trauma therapist, Chris is the person who has been made to feel bad about themselves, and Dale is someone upset observing this. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If I were facilitating when this dynamic emerged, I would step in to interrupt the dynamic as soon as I was conscious of someone being in noticeable distress (most likely cuing in to Chris or Dale, based on the scenario presented). Note that I would interrupt the exchanges as soon as I recognized distress or reactivity—I would <u>not</u> wait until I determined that abuse had occurred, which can be a more complex assessment.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When stepping in, I would try to engage the person I sensed was most in distress and then work my way around the room, until everyone in reaction had had a chance to say what was going on for them. In this instance, the fulminating tension may be between Chris and Pat, or it may be between Dale & Pat. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">(For that matter, there could be tension between Dale & Chris: I recall how irritated my mother was when I would would criticize my father for going into a rant and belittling her—she told me in n o uncertain terms to butt out; she didn't want me defending her.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I would engage with each person long enough to establish what they are feeling, their version of what happened, and its impact on them. I would steer them away from labeling others, assigning motivation to others, or from analyzing the situation. I would simply be asking them to report what they've experienced and its meaning to them. After listening to their responses, I would reflect back the essence of what I heard, doing my best to match both their words and their energy. I would be trying to walk in their shoes.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Essential to this being effective is staying with it until the speaker reports feeling heard. Caution: It is often insufficient to simply assert, "I hear you" or to nod sympathetically. You have to be able to demonstrate <i>to the upset person's satisfaction</i>, that you get what they've told you.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My thinking here is that people in distress often feel isolated and are not confident that others will be open to hearing about their experience, or to understand it even if they get to tell their story. With that in mind, the very first order of business is to establish connection, so that information can flow.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">How It Might Look to Pat</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This can have a very wide range, including the following possibilities:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Pat may have been abusive yet have no consciousness of it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Pat may own that they were purposefully trying to hurt Chris (I don't run into this often, but it's a possibility).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Pat may believe they engaged with Chris in ways that they felt were ethical and constructive.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Pat may be oblivious to what they had done, or its impact on Chris.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Pat may recognize that they had gone overboard (in some sense) and are in remorse about it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Even if you stipulate that Pat is skilled as a trauma therapist, that doesn't preclude their having a blind spot about the ways in which they can trigger trauma in others, nor does it guarantee that they are always aware of when they have been triggered. Finally, therapists are likely to have a preferred method for working trauma, and there is no single approach that's 100% effective.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Thus, while it's reasonable to expect a trauma therapist to be sensitive to what will be triggering in others, and to be deft in picking up on cues that what they're doing is landing poorly, there are no certainties.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Pat might be completely at ease with what they did; they might be embarrassed; they might be curious (that Dale thinks they were abusive); they might also be in reaction themselves (to who knows what). </span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">How It Might Look to Chris</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Just because Dale believes Pat was abusing Chris, does not necessarily mean that Chris experienced Pat as abusive. It's important, I think, to not jump ahead, and to listen carefully to each player's story. There could well be three very disparate realities in play without anyone being "wrong."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While it seems unlikely that Chris enjoyed their interaction with Pat, discomfort or confusion is not necessarily abuse. Was the exchange embarrassing? Overwhelming? Unrelenting? Accusatory? Trauma-triggering (in ways that Pat might reasonably be expected to know or be sensitive to)? There is a wealth of possibilities here.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I can imagine that Chris might be in tears, shaking, or completely shut down. Or they might be outwardly calm, or even untouched by what Dale found intolerable.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">By describing Pat's interactions with Chris as "abusive," it suggests that Pat—at least in Dale's eyes—placed Chris in an awkward (excruciating?) spot, without license to do so.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">How It Might Look to Dale</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It seems certain from the description that Dale had a definite negative reaction to what Pat was doing with Chris.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This could stem from any or all of the following:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Outrage on behalf of the group (that Chris could be treated this way).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Upset over the perception that Pat is acting out of integrity as a trauma therapist (misusing their license).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Frustration with the group that Pat's behavior has been tolerated.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Personal irritation with Pat that has its roots in prior unresolved issues.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">How to Proceed</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">With all these moving parts, I'd need to make an in-the-moment assessment of where the major axis of tension ran and begin there. In condensed form, here is the sequence I'd follow:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Interrupt the damaging or upsetting exchanges (stop the merry-go-round)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Acknowledge the protagonists' experiences (noting where they are similar and where they diverge)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Decide (interactively with the players and the group) whether to take it further in the moment, or set something up afterwards in another setting. If the former, I would work in dyads, starting with those most triggered or most in distress, attempting to repair relationship damage and to reopen channels of communication. Problem solving would follow that (commitments the two might make to each other about how to proceed differently in the future).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If the latter, I'd stay with it long enough to get a commitment from each party about a time and place to reconvene.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">If the Facilitator Is Overwhelmed or Ineffective</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is where the Conflict Resolution Team might come into play, being on call to step in at need if the facilitator cannot answer the bell. While I strongly advocate that groups have such a team, there are three essential things that need to be in place for that hope to be realized:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">1. A general agreement to engage with strong feelings when they surface (permission).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">2. Clarity about how those feelings will be worked with (while there are a number of modalities for working with conflict, the group needs to bless at least one of the them, so members know what they've signed up for).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">3. Sufficient skill in the community to be able to facilitate this work using the chosen modality.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It does no good to have a general agreement to work with conflict if there is no agreement about <i>how</i> to go about it, or no confidence in the group's ability to navigate it successfully.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-74707494810159713342023-04-03T17:10:00.001-05:002023-04-03T17:10:23.053-05:00Spring Trainings 2023<p><span style="font-family: arial;">This past weekend marked the start of the second quarter—a time of transitions. Winter is <i>nearly</i> over (though it doesn't feel that way in Duluth, where we're flirting with all-time record snowfalls) and it's time to think spring.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Play Ball!</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In sports, transitions are everywhere. The baseball season opened last Thursday. College hoops ends tonight, and the pros will enter their playoff gauntlet in another week, with pro hockey to follow the week after. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For all of that, the sporting highlight of the week is the Masters golf tournament, to be contested April 6-9 in Augusta GA, amidst the azaleas. </span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Brave New World</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I am also undergoing an important personal transition—with respect to treatment of my multiple myeloma (MM), an incurable blood cancer that nearly stopped my clock back in 2016, when it was first discovered in me. Back in the fall, when it was apparent that my current regimen for MM management was starting to lose its efficacy, my Duluth oncologist and Mayo hematologist agreed that it was time for CAR-T as the next step. This is where science fiction meets the present.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">CAR stands for chimeric antigen receptor. Through genetic engineering (accomplished in a Bristol-Myers-Squibb lab in NJ), CARs have been added to my natural T-cells which allow my own immune system to recognize and combat the cancer directly—rather than relying on chemical poisons, and their attendant side effects. Because the original cells came from me, there are no rejection issues. Further, because the new T-cells will reproduce true, I will not need further infusions. It's one and done. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm typing this from my hotel room in Rochester MN, where I've already been in residence for a month, principally to undergo CAR-T cell therapy. I just received the infusion of the new T-cells last week, yet will need to remain in town through April to make sure the integration goes smoothly. Mayo is currently the only location worldwide where CAR-T is offered on an outpatient basis. I go into Mayo (two blocks away via carpeted underground tunnels) every day and get looked over by the CAR-T team. Mostly this is routine (knock on wood), and I'm done in less than an hour. The rest of the day I'm free. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This only works because Mayo is large and forward looking. They made the commitment to this therapy some years ago and now have a dedicated suite location within their sprawling complex where a trained staff of 20 focuses solely on CAR-T treatment for blood cancers, under the auspices of their hematology department. In a few years they will have developed the in-house capacity to do the genetic work as well. One stop shopping.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">What an exciting time to be alive! CAR-T only received FDA approval as a treatment for MM 18 months ago, and I am riding the crest of the advances being made in blood cancer treatment.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Process Trainings This Spring</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Much as I enjoy watching sports (and benefitting from the latest advances in cancer research), life is much more than just enjoying the efforts of others from the sidelines. It's a participatory sport. With that in mind, Let's talk about what I can do for you. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I have lined up a number of hands-on learning opportunities this spring—all via Zoom—that build on my 40 years of community living experience and 35 years as a cooperative group dynamics specialist.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: arial;">In chronological order, I'm offering:</span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>10-hour courses produced by the Foundation for Intentional Community</i>—</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>1. <a href="https://www.ic.org/aging-gracefully-in-community/ref/139">Aging Gracefully in Community</a></b> • 5 two-hour sessions delivered on consecutive Thursdays • March 30-April 27</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If we live long enough, we all reach our senior years. This course will help you understand how to make the most of those years, and how intentional community can be a terrific context for it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>2. <a href="https://www.ic.org/participation-and-work-in-community/ref/139">Participation & Work in Community</a></b> • 5 two-hour sessions delivered on consecutive Tuesdays • April 4-May 2</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">A close look at the myriad ways groups get bogged down over member contributions to the maintenance and well-being of the community, along with ideas about how to set up a high-functioning program.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>3. <a href="https://www.ic.org/working-with-conflict-in-community/ref/139">Working with Conflict in Community</a></b> • 5 two-hour sessions delivered on consecutive Thursdays • May 11-June 8</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Understanding the imperative of groups being able to work constructively with feelings, and how to do it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For each of the above, clink on the hyperlink for details about costs and timing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Two-year course produced by CANBRIDGE, my process consulting collective</i>—</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>4. Integrative Facilitation & Leadership Training</b> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This two-year program consists of 8 three-day weekends, spaced approximately three months apart (allowing ample time for integration and practice between sessions).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I pioneered this training program in 2003. Since then I've delivered it 15 times. It's the most fun thing I do. The faculty for the course will be myself and two accomplished former students, Penny Sirota and Brent Levin.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Each weekend will be organized around one or more components of the facilitator's skill set. In addition to a set of handouts germane to the teaching themes of that session, there will be an opportunity for in-depth practice with the material to make sure the principles are well understood. That said, the bulk of each weekend will be devoted to student teams preparing for, delivering, and debriefing the facilitation of live meetings for a volunteer group with real issues—all under the guidance and safety net of the trainers. (I figure you'll learn faster how to swim if we throw you into the deep end of the pool right away—with appropriate life rings—rather than watching me swim or hearing stories about it.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Teaching themes include:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• working with the whole person</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• working content (the facilitator's basic tool kit)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• formats & containers</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• consensus (how to work issues effectively)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• conflict (working with emotions)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• diversity & privilege</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• foundational personal work</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• power & leadership</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• organizational structure (the key committees and their functions)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• delegation</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• challenging personalities</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">No prior facilitation experience is needed—you just need curiosity about how things can function well in cooperative culture, and a willingness to learn.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">There are two ways to participate in the course: </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">a) As a full student, you are eligible to do the live facilitating, receive 1:1 time with a trainer (personal mentoring), and a detailed written report from me about your live facilitating, including what you did well and where you can improve.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">b) As an auditor, you can participate in all classroom activities and will receive all handouts, but are not eligible for doing live facilitating, or the same degree of personal attention as a full student.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This newest edition of the training—my 16th—begins June 22-25, 2023, and will run through March 6-9, 2025.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While there is an upper limit of 18 in the class, <u>there is still room for a few more</u> to enroll.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For additional details (including cost), or to reserve your space in the course, write me at laird@ic.org</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Is it time to make a transition in <u>your</u> life?</span></p><p><br /></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-71563022314942854082023-03-12T15:54:00.000-05:002023-03-12T15:54:49.719-05:00The Genius of Indigenous Culture<p>Over the winter holidays I read a fascinating book that I picked up on whim while Xmas shopping at one of Duluth's indie bookstores: <i>Covered with Night</i>, by Nicole Eustace.</p><p>It's well-researched historical fiction, examining the machinations surrounding the murder of a native fur hunter by two white traders in eastern Pennsylvania while dickering over the price of the hunter's pelts in February 1721—fully three centuries ago. This occurred at a frontier outpost some 30 miles west of Philadelphia, which at that time was a burgeoning, yet modest trade center and port on entry. William Penn, the founding Quaker, had just died (in 1718), and Pennsylvania was in the midst of trying to sort out who would control the colony and whether it would remain in Quaker hands.</p><p>The power of the narrative is that the dialog and thoughts are extrapolated from detailed diaries kept by Quaker officials who were part of the Philadelphia town council at the time, as well as the correspondence of other key white players. While there was (apparently) no source material available from indigenous people, there was nonetheless plenty of critical statements about the actions and motivations of the white players because of the ongoing tensions between Quakers and non-Quakers.</p><p>On the indigenous side, the largest player was the Haudenosaunee—otherwise referred to as the Iroquois Confederacy—an aggregation of five tribes in the northeast: the Mohawk, Seneca, Oneida, Onondaga, and Cayuga (just after the seminal incident that the book is based around, the Tuscarora joined the Confederacy, making it six nations). While other regional tribes were also part of the mix, I want to focus in particular on the role of the Haudenosaunee in this reflection.</p><p>Eustace does a terrific job of unpacking the varied ways in which the Eurocentric and Indigenous cultures differed and often misunderstood each other, a problem that has persisted throughout US history, often with tragic and outrageous consequences.</p><p>In no particular order, here are some of the contrasts illuminated by <i>Covered with Night</i>:</p><p><b>A. Relationship to Gender</b></p><p>While there were gendered occupational roles among the native peoples, when it came to decision-making, the views of tribal women were taken every bit as seriously as those of tribal men. The Haudenosaunee would simply not proceed on an important tribal issue until they'd heard from the women. This stands in sharp contrast with the European practice of not even asking women what they thought, or allowing them to hold political office.</p><p><b>B. Relationship to Integrity</b></p><p>In reading about the Haudensaunee's emphasis on personal integrity, I was reminded of the first of Miguel Ruiz' tenets for living a quality life: <b>be impeccable with your word</b>, which essentially means keeping your commitments and walking your talk. This is laid out in depth in his 1997 book, <i>The Four Agreements</i>. Not surprisingly, Ruiz' writing is a distillation of ancient Toltec wisdom, helping people to live in right relationship with themselves, with others, with life itself, and with God (if your cosmology includes the concept of a supreme spiritual entity).</p><p>While such guidance may not seem that special, the white folks on the scene struggled mightily with it—then as now. They would repeatedly make promises to indigenous people that they would not keep (setting the tone right away for a pattern of treaty violations that continued for centuries). And it was even worse than that. The Quaker Meeting based in Philadelphia came out solidly against slavery about a decade before this murder incident, yet all the wealthy Quakers in town owned and traded in slaves. Hypocrisy R Us. </p><p>Further, it is no little thing that the two brothers who committed the murder represented the European law in their segment of Pennsylvania. Oops!</p><p>Among whites, apparently, personal integrity is standard you hold <i>others</i> to. If you question that as a relevant part of our white heritage (given that it happened 300 years ago), reflect on what we're seeing among us today, where the outrageous lies and behavior of Donald Trump, George Santos, and Fox News can be documented and exposed and it's not clear that there are consequences. Among the Haudenosaunee you would be held accountable for your word.</p><p><b>C. Relationship to Land</b></p><p>The Haudenosaunee, like most indigenous tribes, did not view land as a privatized commodity, and thus they had trouble understanding the white's continued interest in expanding farmland (and fencing it in) and obtaining mineral rights to traditional native lands. In indigenous thinking, the land was an asset held in trust for all. Among Europeans, it was an asset in which to store wealth, and suitable for exploitation at the owner's sole discretion. All manner of mischief ensued from this discrepancy of perspective.</p><p>While the native approach may not have been the acme of regenerative agriculture, they had been productively working the land for centuries before the whites arrived. The contrasting European style was to emphasize quick returns. Once the land's natural fertility had been depleted, they simply moved further west.</p><p><b>D. Relationship to Justice</b></p><p>A key element of the cultural misunderstandings was a profound difference in how justice was perceived. While the Haudenosaunee sense of justice had evolved (over a long time) into one that emphasized reconciliation and relationship repair, Europeans were locked into a focus on retribution, punishment, and assignment of blame. Reputedly, the dying words of the native hunter were, "My friends have killed me," indicating that even after having received a mortal wound, he continued to view his attackers as his friends (with whom he'd done business in the past).</p><p>Where the Iroquois tried to reinforce good behavior through the reward of connection and a secure place in the tribe, the Europeans were attempting to control aberrant behavior through threat of punishment and loss of freedom. One used the carrot; the other the stick. Where the Haudenosaunee expected gifts from the Europeans as a token of what value they placed on a good relationship with them (all the more important when that relationship had been strained), the Europeans interpreted that expectation as compensation, more like a fine. As such, the signals were constantly being misconstrued.</p><p><b>E. Relationship to Relationship</b></p><p>The whites saw the indigenous people as inferior (essentially as children and undeveloped), consistently misunderstanding that other cultures may not only be well developed, but better adapted. It is fundamentally different to be trying to outcompete or dominate those around you, versus trying to coexist peaceably with your neighbors. Where Europeans were looking for edges and information to file away for future advantage; indigenous peoples were looking for ways to find harmony and file away edges and rough spots.</p><p><b>F. Relationship to Intentional Communities Today</b></p><p>In reading this story I was profoundly struck by the parallel between the culture that the Iroquois Confederacy had consciously chosen (moving away from embracing war as a solution to problems) and what intentional communities strive to create as cooperative culture, as a distinct alternative from the competitive and adversarial mainstream culture of the dominant society.</p><p>To be clear, I don't think intentional communities are consciously trying to emulate indigenous culture (though there may be some of that in places). Rather I think it's a matter of a good idea resurfacing independently at a different point in history, because of the inequity and misery that's endemic in modern society, and the compelling need to integrate better with the natural world.</p><p>I find it incredibly heartening to learn that the cultural path we community builders are trying to define is one that has been trodden before. </p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-78965023714374482212022-12-15T09:19:00.000-06:002022-12-15T09:19:00.402-06:00Swimming in Liminal Waters<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Over the course of my 35-year career as a group process professional, I've gradually been developing a deeper appreciation for working intuitively—trusting my sense of what to do in a given situation, even if a rational explanation is out of reach in the moment of choice.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I recently experienced a profound expansion of what is possible in this realm when given the unusual opportunity to work with a group for nine days straight—in person, no less. The group had been around for decades but found itself in a very deep hole, with major unresolved interpersonal tensions, low trust, and no willingness to work on relationship repair. Ugh.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Each day my work partner and I would discuss what we'd try to do with the group to evoke the positives and ameliorate the negatives. It was tough sledding, and many of my ordinary tools were off the table. So we had to wing it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When I work with a client, my habit is to clear my calendar for the duration of the work cycle, and fully immerse myself in their reality. When doing so, I elevate my energy and enhance my focus. Essentially, I'm all in. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Much more commonly, the outer limit of my direct work with a client is 48 hours (Friday evening to Sunday afternoon). Rarely that has stretched to three or four days. So nine days was a whole other kettle of fish.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The problem wasn't figuring out where to help (there was no end of things in that category); the problem was figuring out how to sequence the engagement such that we drew out as much poison as possible, and sensitively gave them every chance to find a path forward that would allow the community to continue with its current membership. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When working over a weekend it's fairly common for me to go to bed at night with an open question about how to proceed the next day and have the answer emerge from my sleep cycle. That is, I awake with clarity about how to proceed that I didn't have the night before. In fact, this has happened frequently enough that I've come to trust it—even though I don't understand how it works—and is part of how I've developed my intuitive muscles.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">What was eye-opening about my recent gig-in-residence was that I did this <i>every</i> night for nine days.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Following that there was an echo of this when I crafted my after-action report, summarizing what was accomplished, my analysis, and outlining the work remaining. Three times I went to bed thinking about how best to frame what I had to say… and three times I woke up in the morning with clarity about how to proceed.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As a facilitation trainer, for a long time I have emphasized what I style "riding two horses," by which I mean paying attention to what is said, as well as the energy with which it is conveyed and received. Now I've come to embrace the additional nuance of developing and learning to trust one's intuition—inspirations about how to understand and engage that operate below the rational level. It's a different kind of knowing, yet no less potent.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The image I hold around this is developing sufficient confidence to commit to an action without knowing what it will engender, because it <i>feels</i> right. Think of it as committing your weight forward to take a step without knowing where the floor is, trusting that it will be there when your foot comes down.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We humans are such fascinating and nuanced creatures. What a blast I'm having exploring new rooms in the house that is my life.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-39236869360166965312022-11-12T08:23:00.001-06:002022-11-14T11:21:10.484-06:00Musings about Modern Life<p><span style="font-family: arial;">I just got back from10 days of immersion at Ionia, a 35-year-old community in Kaslilof, AK that requested my help with community dynamics. My experience there—in the company of my work partner, Sarah Ross—brought to the surface of our consciousness a number of choices we mostly take for granted (because it's the water we swim in), and I was reflecting on that this morning.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">1. Flush toilets</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Ionia doesn't have them. Sarah and I have divergent histories on this. I have 41 years of community living under my belt—all of which were in communities that didn't have flush toilets. When you sprinkle in about year of wilderness camping over my lifetime, this was not new territory for me. For Sarah it was more challenging. Yes, she'd done some primitive camping, so she knew the principles, but it wasn't what she was expecting, and she had to cope.—which she did with excellent grace.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The main argument is that flush toilets are combining two resources (potable water and human excrement—a fertilizer, whence the term night soil) to create black water, a potentially toxic waste that must be dealt with safely through sewage treatment, either municipally or on site. While this expense may make more sense in urban settings where they are obliged to prioritize public health (originally to deal with cholera and typhoid in the 19th Century, but god knows what all today), in rural settings there is room to rethink the cost/benefit ratio—especially in light of shrinking water resources and innovative technologies for safely composting human manure—something China, Korea, and Japan have been dealing with more sensibly all along.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">2. Access to high-speed internet</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In contrast with the primitive plumbing, we had good internet access in our suite (an enclave in the basement of the common house). Because much of Ionia's commitment in simple living paralleled my experience at Sandhill, I understood what had happened. The community was launched in 1987, at the dawn of the Information Age , and they weren't thinking about computers, and wanted to limit exposure to mainstream media. Eventually it made more sense to embrace computers and access to the internet—while still discouraging televisions. They have a media room in the common house where members watch movies, and of course, people can easily stream television shows in their private spaces, so it's a slippery slope. But Sandhill did the same dance and I get it.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">3. Privacy</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As mentioned above, Sarah and I were bivouacked in a small suite in the basement of the common house. It was modest, but no different than what members were allotted who also resided in the common house. We had a door which opened to a modest common space with a table, a couch, and a chair. We also had a small fridge and an electric kettle where we could make tea and coffee. Separated by curtains, we each had our own sleeping space off the common area, partitioned by movable shelves that extended to six feet, providing visual separation, but not acoustic. Fortunately, this was not a big deal for either Sarah and me (as we are not particularly private people), though we paused to reflect on how that would likely have been more challenging for our romantic partners, or even for other work partners.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I found the openness that's encouraged in community living to be refreshing and honest, but I have also learned that it is too much octane for others, and some bridges are too far to cross. It didn't even occur to me to ask about accommodations before agreeing to come to Ionia, and, in retrospect, I'm surprised that the community didn't bring it up. Fortunately, it wasn't a problem, but it could have been a stressor that got in the way our doing our best work.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">4. Common house construction</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The thing about community buildings is that they are snapshots of community values and sensibilities that last a long time. While the community evolves and moves on, the building lasts, and it serves as a testament to where you were when it was designed and constructed. In the case of the Ionian common house, it was log construction and very large, built many years ago. It was a million dollar investment that features three stories, high ceilings, and room for many group functions. While it has well-insulated walls and ceilings, and hydronic floor heating (where hot water is circulated through pipes embedded in the concrete basement floor), it must be fierce to keep that building warm through the cold Alaskan winters. I can hardly imagine how much wood they have to go through, and the labor that entails. In consequence, the building was heated, but not toasty. People wore long sleeves and hats to the meetings, and regularly huddled near wood stoves. I understood the balancing act—we had made the same choices at Sandhill, though our buildings were smaller and fewer, and our winters milder.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Since the common house was built, the community has learned new and better techniques for construction, including timber frame and light clay straw slip. Today they would build the common house differently. Meanwhile, they have what they have, and are trying to make the best of it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The other room (besides our basement suite) where Sarah and I spent a lot of time was the media room (where the community watched movies and held meetings). Apropos movie watching, it had a low ceiling and dim lights—perfect for movies, but a strain for meetings. The room held the energy, and but the dimness cast a pall on the energy and low lighting made it a challenge to read facial expressions across the room. I think it might have played differently in other seasons, but we were already in winter (8-12 inches of snow fell while we were there, and the ambient temperature never rose above freezing). Dawn didn't occur until halfway through the morning meeting.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">5. Diet</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Ionia was founded on a commitment to a macrobiotic diet, which is strong on brown rice, local vegetables, lacto-fermentation, no meat or dairy, and no coffee or alcohol. While there has been some easing off of being strict about those principles, there remains a strong focus on fresh and local food that is still largely macrobiotic. Food is a rallying point in the community, and Sarah and I consistently enjoyed excellent dinners in rotation among people's households over the course of our 10 days on campus. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It was a balm to relax in the warmth and ease of eating together after meetings focused on what's being hard in the community (which was what we did during the day and was the reason we were there). The hospitality around food was superb.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">6. The Malling of Alaska</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Finally, I want to share a poignant story about our hosts. Being mindful that their commitment to simple living is not something familiar or comfortable to all visitors, we fielded multiple offers in our first days to take a trip to town (by which they meant Soldotna, a village on 4000 that's 30 minutes away and features a mall) where we might enjoy a cheeseburger or go shopping. While both Sarah and I occasionally do those things, we did not crave them and politely declined.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Our hosts were being mindful and had learned over time that many visitors benefit from a dose of mainstream culture to sustain their balance while at Ionia. It was a sweet gesture. To be sure, we asked for a few creature comforts and they were graciously supplied: I got coffee and half-and-half (no, oat milk was not an acceptable substitute for my morning ritual) and Sarah got bananas and yogurt. We tried to be low-maintenance visitors, and they tried to be good hosts. I thought we both did well.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Overall, it was good to be reminded that "normal" lifestyle choices can often be usefully questioned. That's why they call it "intentional community."</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-33922366381673592902022-10-28T06:54:00.000-05:002022-10-28T06:54:37.681-05:00My Senior Moments<p><span style="font-family: arial;">This year I've had the opportunity to be part of a team of instructors delivering a five-week webinar (10 hours in total) entitled <a href="https://www.ic.org/aging-gracefully-in-community/ref/139">Aging Gracefully in Community</a>, being produced through the <a href="http://ic.org">Foundation for Intentional Community</a> (FIC). The second incarnation of this webinar will happen over five consecutive Wednesdays. It started Oct 26 and will run through Nov 23.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm teaching the first and third classes, and preparing for them has provided me the occasion to reflect on where I'm at with my life as a senior—something I strongly advise other seniors to do. I also crossed the threshold of my 73 birthday this past week, which is as good a time as any to step back and take stock.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I stepped down as the main administrator of FIC at the end of 2015, retiring from one of my two careers after a 28-year run. As it happened, I discovered immediately afterwards that I had multiple myeloma, an incurable blood cancer, which knocked me back for a time. After spending the bulk of 2016 in treatment (I benefited greatly from excellent care at a local hospital, and from a stem cell transplant at Mayo Clinic), I have been able to manage the cancer and recover sufficient strength and stamina to resume my other career—the one I <i>haven't</i> retired from—teaching and consulting about cooperative group dynamics.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This ongoing passion is something I've been doing since 1987, specializing in working with intentional communities and working with the whole person (not just the rational part). When I got a second chance on how my senior years might play out (I was pretty far down the well when the cancer was discovered in early '16 and might not have made it back), that served as a wake-up call. Colors were a little brighter, and there is nothing quite like near-death to sharpen the concentration and appreciate the preciousness of what you have. It's an opportunity to strip away the drek and prioritize the joy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Well, continuing my career in group process was an easy call (so long as I retain solid cognitive skills, knock on wood), as that definitely brings me joy, It's my main venue for social change work, and it's simultaneous my main impetus for personal work. A hard to beat combo.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">That said, my relationship to this work has evolved, and never more so than in the last three years. Let me count the ways:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">(Actually <i>everything</i> evolves, though we are not always paying attention, or willing to reconsider things in light of new information. I have a good friend who once shared the insight, <i>Don't you sometimes just long for the unexamined life?</i> Hah! Personal work can be grueling! And it's sobering to absorb that it never ends—you never actually reach the top of the mountain.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Marked increase in divisiveness and the breakdown of cicil discourse—not just at the macro political level; I'm talking about the dynamics in communities as well.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Social impact of the pandemic and the strain on cooperative groups as people weathered a long stretch of limiting how much they saw one another in the same room. (This has been especially hard on extroverts.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Discovering that Zoom can be an effective delivery tool for teaching and consulting. Not the same as working in-person, to be sure, yet more.nuanced and potent than I suspected at the outset.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Increased opportunities to teach.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Balancing immediate needs with strategic planning (it's hard to complete long rang projects when I manage opportunities on the LIFO inventory system).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Here's how all of this had impacted the various segments of of my work:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Blog and articles</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While I've spent markedly less time writing for public consumption the last three years, it's not because I've run out of things to say. It's because I've run out of time to write them, in deference to crafting handouts, client reports, slide shows for Zoom trainings, agendas, professional evaluations, and treading water with email (which includes a sharp up tick in student correspondence). Some of this is remunerative. Most of it is not. In any event, I'm not writing less; I'm writing differently. (Although my blog postings have been way down, I still managed to get four articles posted in <i>Communities</i> magazine this past year.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Teaching</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Not counting conference workshops (I've done more than 100 in my career) I've been actively teaching since I pioneered my signature two-year facilitation training in 2003 (see below). That said, the pandemic gave a rocket boost to online offerings, and I'm along for the ride. Since 2019 I've tripled how much time I spend teaching. Fortunately, I love it, and it aligns well with my desire to be an agent for positive social change. Unfortunately, it means there's less time for everything else. (I'm even teaching an 8-part series, <i>Learning to Play Bridge</i>, through a local community ed program, and I love that, too!)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Writing books about group dynamics</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is getting the short end of the stick. I don't prioritizing it, because it's anguishing for me to turn down client requests to protect time for books. My motivation is further undercut by the knowledge that pretty much everything I want to say in a book has already been captured in my blog—it just isn't organized as well as a book would be. Though I haven't given up, I'm definitely noticing that I'm not getting to the work.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Integrative Facilitation Training (IFT)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I started this course 19 years ago and have now delivered it 16 times. It's the most fun thing I do on a regular basis. The teaching emphasizes an experiential model, where two-thirds of each weekend is devoted to students preparing for, delivering, and debriefing live meetings for a host group, who provides real issues for the students to cut their teeth on, under professional guidance. Students get practice facing live ammunition, and host groups get free outside help with sticky issues—everyone benefits.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I've noticed recently that it's becoming harder to reconcile the active needs of the host with the pedagogical needs of the course. It happens like this: hosts, understandably, want to get maximal benefit from outside help and typically select difficult topics—things where they have struggled on their own. While that is useful training for the students (coping with the nontrivial), topics that are freighted with tensions (often the most troublesome kind) require dealing with the tensions first, before moving on to problem solving, and often it's hard to effect the relationship repair and get deeper into the topic in the time allotted. Thus, students get a fair amount of practice working with tensions (good) but not so much with problem solving (which is a problem).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Most groups are poor at working through tensions, understanding how to productively work issues, or how to use plenary time effectively—all which are things I know how to do and try to emphasize when I teach. In an effort to have the group work where it needs the most help (for example, learning how to use plenary time well) the students don't get as much practice using formats that enhance inclusivity (but come at a cost of slowing things down). It's a dilemma when host needs doesn't align well with what the students need. So this is on my mind right now.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">The Next Round of IFT</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Incidentally, if you're interested in my thinking about cooperative group dynamics, there is no single better way to absorb (in both your head and your body) the breadth of what I and my fellow trainers have come to understand about this field than by enrolling in one of my two-year trainings, where you'll get to be in a special learning milieu for eight 3-day weekends, spaced approximately three months apart.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While the surface focus of the training is how to understand and make good decisions (as the facilitator) when responding to the complexities and complications of plenaries trying to make inclusive decisions, the utility of the training is much broader than that. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• The context of the IFT course is understanding the secular dynamics of community, and we are committed to doing that both by <i>discussing</i> and analyzing community, and be <i>being</i> a community for the two years we are together. That means we speak from our hearts as well as our heads; we speak transparently and we speak with compassion. When stuff comes up in class—we talk about it. We teach the moment as much as the curriculum. We strive for a level of engagement and authenticity that is rarely found in this vale of tears.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• We expect everyone to be doing personal work in relationship to the materials. Good facilitation is not just learning formulaic responses, or memorizing scripts. While we offer templates, we don't teach paint-by-number facilitation; we teach heart-centered facilitation where practitioners learn to integrate thoughts and feelings, and to identify and trust their instincts.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• It turns out that facilitation training is also leadership training, as the overlap in skills and mind set are nearly identical. Thus, students can benefit from the training even if they never facilitate meetings, because it will help them fill leadership roles—in community, at work, or even in their family—with confidence and clarity. It also helps students be better followers, and better meeting participants (because they have a better sense of what the facilitator is trying to do).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Note</b>: While I expect to continue training facilitators for as long as I can, there's no telling how much sand I still have in the upper half of my hourglass, so you might want to sign up sooner than later if you think IFT might be a good fit for you. My next training, which will be Zoom-based, will start Jan 12 and there's still room for more as of today. If this tickles your fancy, send me an email (<b>laird@ic.org</b>) and I'll give you the full picture.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>• • •</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I get it that seniors use their latter years in a wide variety of ways, and I respect that this is a very personal choice. It's not for me to tell others what to do. Nonetheless, for what it's worth, I am offering this overview of how I'm spending a significant portion of mine.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Note I have not written about the other major components of my life: time with my partner, Susan; staying connected with family and friends; indulging in my recreational pastimes of </span><span style="font-family: arial;">celebration cooking, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">duplicate bridge, solving the daily NYT crosswords, and travel (tonight I fly to Anchorage for two weeks with a community on the Kenai Peninsula—a place I've never been to before—marking the first time I will have traveled to work with a client in person in 31 months). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While the pace of my life has changed considerably (remember, I'm half retired), I see no reason to ship my oars and drift off into the sunset. I believe in an engaged life, and that generally means sailing close to the wind. The challenge is how best to do that as conditions around me shift, as well as my capacity and physical limitations. With all these parts in motion, there is a constant need to reassess and make adjustments. It goes with the territory. For all of that, however, there is no question about whether or not to try. I still get up every morning wondering how I can get best into what the late John Lewis characterized as "<a href="https://www.brookings.edu/blog/how-we-rise/2020/07/23/five-things-john-lewis-taught-us-about-getting-in-good-trouble/">good trouble</a>."</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-3270907430477482532022-09-14T13:40:00.001-05:002022-09-14T13:40:45.140-05:00Noise<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Every now and then the right book comes along just as I'm ready to benefit from its message. That happened last month when I consumed <i>Noise</i>, by Daniel Kahneman (author of <i>Thinking, Fast and Slow</i>), Oliver Sibony, and Cass Sunstein.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This book came out last year and explores the concept of bad decisions and why people make them, distinguishing between bias and randomness. With bias, things are slanted in a particular direction (consciously or unconsciously). With noise, the range of responses is randomly diffused—the more noise, the wider the diffusion. Things you'd prefer be consistent, turn out not to be. Examples include the sentences judges give people convicted of the same offense, insurance rates that adjusters set for the same coverage, the wide range of agreement among evaluators in assessing personnel candidates.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It turns out that wherever judgment is involved, there is noise—and more of it than most realize. Worse, it's not just found in differences between people. It also occurs when the same person faces the same situation, but at a different time of day, or on a different day of the week, or after the local sports team won over the weekend. </span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Decision Hygiene</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The authors have a number of specific suggestions for how to approach decision-making to reduce noise.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Delay discussing solutions (potential decisions) until you've first agreed on the criteria you'll use to assess the evaluate candidate proposals. Further, allow people an opportunity to think about what they believe the criteria should be <i>by themselves</i> before discussing it collectively, as groups tend to be strongly influenced by the first couple of people who speak, and ideas are less likely to be lost if they have been written down ahead of time.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• To the extent possible, consider focusing attention on how the candidates rate, one criteria at a time, delaying a discussion of the whole until the end.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• Evaluation will be less noisy if you ask different people or teams to assess candidates in different criteria (the idea being that the wisdom of the group is typically better than the wisdom of an individual).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• In expressing where a candidate proposal stands with respect to each criteria, it's generally better to rank them comparatively rather than on an absolute scale, as there tends to be much tighter agreement about comparative standing than what is meant by an arbitrary numerical scale.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Impact of Noise in Cooperative Groups</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While this was not a lens through which the authors of <i>Noise</i> looked, it occurs to me that this book has some things to say about how cooperative groups might enhance their decision-making. To wit:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Matching the process investment to the stakes. The above outline for how to reduce noise needs to be in some reasonable proportion to consequences. When the outcome matters a lot, you can justify being more careful. When the impact is low, it may not be worth it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—In cooperative groups, <i>how</i> a decision is made typically matters as much as <i>what</i> decision gets made. With that in mind, there can be a large value placed on inclusivity (the lowest possible barrier for someone's relevant input to be expressed and considered), and it behooves groups to be especially mindful of how default open discussion and rounds tend to inadvertently favor the quick, and those who are comfortable speaking in front of the group. Or, in situations where the group is unskilled at working with disagreement or with the expression of strong feelings, how those with thick skin or a loud voice can have more sway—independent of whether they have better discernment.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Delegating to a manager or team may be expedient and efficient, but it probably means more noise. It might be useful to reflect on that tradeoff before blithely embracing it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Who knew that paying attention to noise could be so productive?</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-78534163159403975132022-08-19T08:17:00.005-05:002022-08-19T08:17:42.156-05:00The Gift of Good Process—All Delivered Before Xmas Morning<p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'll be conducting a variety of courses from now through the end of the year, and I'm laying them out here—both because one or more may interest <u>you</u>, or people you know (and I'd be pleased to have your help banging the drum).</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">I. Facilitation Training</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is my signature two-year course, which I've been doing since 2003 and have delivered 15 times, reaching about 175 students. It will be conducted via Zoom (which I've experimented with the last two years and feel solid about, based on having conducted 15 training weekends and facilitated multiple group meetings via that medium).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The class meets for eight 3-day weekends (from Thursday evening through Sunday afternoon), spaced approximately three months apart. No prior facilitation experience is required—you just need a positive attitude, an open mind, and a reliable modem. In addition to teaching the basics, the course will cover considerable nuance about group dynamics in a cooperative setting—all of which applies just as well to leadership in cooperative culture.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In addition to receiving approximately 50 handouts, there will be a principal teaching theme for each weekend:</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• Working Content<br />• Formats<br />• Conflict<br />• Consensus<br />• Power & Leadership<br />• Organizational Structure<br />• Delegation <br />• Challenging Personalities</span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Half of each weekend is devoted to preparing for, delivering, and debriefing live meetings facilitated by students—as it's my belief that lessons are better grounded when facing live ammunition. The trainers (there will be three of us) will hold your hand throughout and be a safety net as you learn to fly.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Most students come affiliated with an intentional community, but that isn't a requirement, so long as you understand we are teaching you to operate collaboratively and inclusively.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While I am open to students from any situation and with any background, I want to make you aware of the potential this training provides when multiple people participate from the same group—it is much easier to digest and bring home the learnings when you have buddies, and much more possible to shift the culture and practices of your group when the inspiration comes from more than one voice. The benefits are geometric (that is, your group gets four times the boost when you double the number of students).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is the most fun thing I do, passing along what I've distilled from four decades in the field. At a minimum, this course will make you a better facilitator or help you understand better what good facilitation is. At its best, it will change your life.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The new course is penciled in as follows:</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Weekend I<span> <span> </span></span>Sept 22-25, 2022</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Weekend II Jan 12-15, 2023</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Weekend III<span> <span> </span></span>Mar 30-April 2, 2023</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Weekend IV<span> <span> </span> </span>June 22-25, 2023<br />Weekend V<span> </span><span> </span><span>Sept 7-10, 2023<br /></span>Weekend VI<span> </span><span> </span>Dec 7-10, 2023<br />Weekend VII<span> </span><span> </span>Mar 7-10, 2024<br />Weekend VIII<span> </span>June 6-9, 2024</span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><u>There is still room in this course for more students</u> (we accept a maximum of 18). If we don't reach critical mass (12 students is the minimum) by next month, we'll postpone the start until January, bump back all the weekends and add a new date for Weekend VIII.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The cost is $450/weekend for full students (discounts are available if you pay up front) and $300/weekend for auditors. While both full students and auditors are welcome in all classroom sessions, only full students get to facilitate live meetings during class weekends, and receive detailed written comments about their facilitation. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If you have questions or want additional details reach me via email: laird@ic.org</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">II. National Cohousing Conference • Aug 25-28 • Madison WI</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Coming right up (next week!), I'll be traveling for work for the first time since March 2000—ending a drought of 29 months. (I used to travel once a month for work—my how times have changed.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Aug 25 (Thursday) • I am teaching an all-day (6-hour) intensive styled Consensus 301, aimed at helping groups who are struggling with consensus, to better understand how they might untangle and be get better results. I have been working with secular consensus for 45 years and have a deep understanding of both the problems and potential solutions. In six hours there will be plenty of time to get responses to individual questions.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Click <a href="https://www.cohousing.org/cohoevents/2022-madison-intensives/">here</a> for details and the possibility of a one-day pass for this offering alone. I believe you can participate either in-person (best) or via Zoom (next best).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Aug 27 (Sat) • I am offering a 90-min workshop entitled Consensus 101 (9-10:30 am), covering the basics of what you'll need to get off to the right start.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Aug 27 (Sat) • I am offering a 90-min workshop entitled Participation (1:30-3 pm), unpacking the morass of issues that arise around non-monetary member contributions to the maintenance and well-being of the community. This topic is the single most requested that clients ask me to help with, because of its complexity. I'll lay out the key questions groups need to address in order to clear the fog.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Again, you'll have the choice of registering for just the workshops, or the whole megillah. Click <a href="https://www.cohousing.org/cohoevents/madisonregistration/">here</a> for your options.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">III. FIC Webinars</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Continuing an ambitious program of 10-hour online courses sponsored by the <a href="http://www.ic.org">Foundation of Intentional Community</a>, all of which have been offered once already this year, here are the ones being repeated in the months ahead. Each course will be comprised of 2-hour Zoom sessions, held at the same time of day and on the same day of the week for five consecutive weeks. For details and registration for each course, please click on the titles, which are hyperlinked to FIC.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—<a href="https://www.ic.org/facilitation-course/ref/139/">Facilitation</a><span> (Tuesdays)<span> • Sept 13-Oct 11</span></span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: arial;">—<a href="https://www.ic.org/consensus101/ref/139">Consensus 101</a> (Thursdays) • Sept 15-Oct 13</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: arial;">—<a href="https://www.ic.org/conflict-course/ref/139/">Conflict</a> (Tuesdays) • Oct 25-Nov 22</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: arial;">—<a href="https://www.ic.org/aging-course/ref/139">Aging Gracefully in Community</a> (Wednesdays) • Oct 26-Nov 23 (for this course only, I am part of a team of presenters, and I am only leading the first session)</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: arial;">—<a href="https://www.ic.org/membership-course/ref/139">Membership</a> (Thursdays) • Oct 27-Nov 23 (note that the last class will held on Wed, to avoid Thanksgiving—the rest will be on Thursdays)</span></span></p><p><span><span><span style="font-family: arial;">In addition to the main entrées listed above, here are a couple of 1-hour appetizers offered free of charge:</span></span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: arial;">• <a href="https://www.ic.org/event/facilitating-your-group/?utm_source=Foundation+for+Intentional+Community&utm_campaign=11fc02b18a-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2021_07_30_07_28_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_7e39d41ce2-11fc02b18a-472801941&mc_cid=11fc02b18a&mc_eid=0e87197346">Facilitating Your Group Through Anything</a> • Aug 23 • 2:30-3:30 pm Eastern</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span>In this session I'll walk through how to handle the nasty stuff: topics that are complex and/or volatile. </span>This is a teaser for the 10-hour Facilitation course listed above.</span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: arial;">• <a href="https://www.ic.org/event/understanding-how-consensus-works/?utm_source=Foundation+for+Intentional+Community&utm_campaign=11fc02b18a-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2021_07_30_07_28_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_7e39d41ce2-11fc02b18a-472801941&mc_cid=11fc02b18a&mc_eid=0e87197346">Understanding How Consensus Works in Cooperative Groups</a> • Aug 23 • 6-7 pm Eastern</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: arial;">The key focus here will be on essential communication skills needed to make consensus sing. This is a teaser for the 10-hour Consensus 101 course listed above.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I hope to see some of your smiling faces soon.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-53366552842888933322022-08-17T12:28:00.001-05:002022-08-17T12:28:40.994-05:00Remembering Lina<p><span style="font-family: arial;">My friend and mentor, Caroline Estes, died July 13, passing peacefully after four months in hospice. She was 94 and had lived a full and impactful life that touched me deeply.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We first met in the spring of 1987. I had taken Amtrak's Empire Builder from Chicago to Oregon, fresh from the first board meeting of the newly reconstituted Fellowship for Intentional Community (<a href="http://www.ic.org">FIC</a>) at Stelle IL. I caught up with Caroline for a cup of coffee at Alpha-Bit, the magical bookstore/cafe/art gallery that her community, <a href="http://www.deadwoodtradingpost.com/Alpha-Farm.html">Alpha Farm</a>, operated in Mapleton—a wide spot in the road between Eugene and Florence, on the sinuous banks of the Siuslaw River (of <i>Once a Great Notion</i> fame). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I had set up the rendezvous both to put a face to the name, and to fill her in on what had happened at the seminal FIC gathering. She had a reputation as a tour de force as a community networker in the Pacific Northwest, and I aspired to strengthen connections with communities on the West Coast. As an added incentive, Alpha Farm was an income-sharing community—just like my community, Sandhill Farm—and there weren't many of us around with whom to talk shop.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We clicked immediately, nattering nonstop for a couple of hours, pausing only to inhale and to refill our coffee cups. (I knew right away that I was in the right place because Alpha-Bit served half-and-half in a small pitcher.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">She spent her early childhood in a privileged family in Texas, before moving to California at the age of 10. As an adult she became a Quaker, which was the grounding for her understanding of consensus. Her nickname as a child was Lina, and I am invoking that term of endearment in this remembrance.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Caroline as Grandmother of Secular Consensus</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We didn't meet face-to-face until she was 57, and already well established at Alpha (15 years after she'd helped found the community in 1972). By then she'd already worked to adapt consensus as a religious practice to meet the needs of decision-making in community settings. In response to requests to share her methods, Caroline had developed a five-day consensus & facilitation training, and I eagerly signed up for the next round. It came at just the right time for me. I knew enough about cooperative group dynamics to have a slew of questions, but wasn't so settled in my ways that I couldn't shift my thinking or practice.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Together with her protégé, Lysbeth Borie (also a long-time Alpha member), the two comprised Alpha Institute, a subsidiary of the community that offered consensus training and professional facilitation. In addition to steady work in cooperative groups throughout Ecotopia, for a number of years they were the consensus trainers of choice among Waldorf schools across the breadth of North America.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The occasion of Caroline's passing weaves together a number of threads for me. Lysbeth was the person who broke the news to me, and I have a fond memory of my first gig as an outside facilitator in December, 1987, when Lysbeth and I partnered to assist Appletree, a fledgling income-sharing community on Cottage Grove OR. Caroline helped us plan the engagement—even pulling out a packet of precious frozen blueberries from Alpha's larder, so that we could offer Appletree members a memorable dessert as part of our time together. For Caroline, good food and good dynamics went hand in hand, and it was a signature element of her penchant for interweaving engagement and conviviality.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Caroline as Mentor</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Caroline was both a friend and a Friend, who was able to retain the spirit of Quaker consensus without necessarily defining it as a pathway to knowing the divine. Under her deft touch, it was also developed as a pathway to divine what was best for the group, which was the field in which she and I walked together.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Among the lessons I absorbed from Caroline was the preciousness of facilitator neutrality, without lapsing into passivity. It is an art knowing when you've heard enough from the group to be able to float a proposal that might balance the whole, and facilitators need to be brave as well as disinterested.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Caroline taught me how to read a meeting—which is a subtle combination of listening deeply to statements, while at the same time tracking the energy that lay beneath and around the words. (Neither of which, BTW, is enhanced by today's increasing reliance on social media, which has significantly degraded both attention spans and the ability of people to hear accurately. Impatience and consensus don't play well together.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As a master facilitator she was a rock. When managing large groups (100+), which she did on a number of occasions at the height of her career, she had legendary stamina (and erect posture), and was able to redirect obstreperous behavior simply through her presence, the judicious use of silence, and a raised eyebrow. When the number of participants exceeded her capacity to track each person, she learned to scan <i>sections</i> of the group for discordant energy, following that up with individual scrutiny as needed.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">She taught me how to toggle one's attention when facilitating, alternately lightly between what was being said (and how that applied to the topic at hand), and where the energy was trending—two things that are not always aligned, yet need to be to reach the promised land.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Based on her genteel upbringing, it was hard for Caroline to express or to work directly with strong emotions—especially negative ones—which is something I've come to view as an essential skill as a consultant/facilitator working with cooperative groups. To be sure, she understood fully when feelings were in play, but considered it unpleasant, invasive, or ill-bred to expose them in group. Thus, she was never comfortable sailing close to the winds of distress.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Caroline's gifts were overwhelmingly offered orally and in person. She left behind a paucity of written material—very few articles or reports. If she wanted to communicate, she would dictate an email, pick up the phone, or write a letter (remember when people used to do that?). To my knowledge, she didn't participate in social media at all, which, as you might imagine, contributed significantly to her disappearing from the radar of folks in need of what she had to offer the last couple decades.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While it's my sense that there is every bit as much need today as there ever was for what Caroline could teach, in the 21st century she had essentially outlived the ability to attract clients, given the limitations of how she functioned. Contemporary marketing had left her behind—making it all the more important for me to honor my professional debt to her in this eulogy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For two decades (1988-2008) Caroline was a regular participant in FIC, which met semi-annually for three-to-four days at a time to discuss strategies and reset the gyroscope. Caroline was at the center of the wheel and a significant voice in how the organization evolved. For many years, the two of us made a point of carving out one evening at each gathering to go out to a local restaurant for dinner. For three hours it would just be the two of us—catching up, musing, laughing, and strategizing about the road ahead.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Caroline as Communitarian</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I consider Alpha to be one of the most beautifully sited communities I've ever seen, nestled into a finger valley of Oregon's Coast Range. Bordered on two sides by BLM land and Forest Service property, it even features a babbling stream that feeds into Deadwood Creek and is home to spawning salmon. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Many years before the community landed there, Alpha was the site of an early post office, when European settlers first populated the Willamette Valley. Interestingly, operating a rural mail route has been a mainstay of Alpha's balance sheet, offering dependable income in an otherwise uncertain backwater economy. (While Alpha-Bit was a solid success when it came to local relations, it was never a profit center.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Caroline was devoted to Jim, her husband of many years. He grew up in Mississippi and shared her sharp intellect, political savvy, progressive outlook, love of language, and the discipline of speaking with a civil tongue (a diminishing art these days). He worked as a newspaperman, and would recreationally edit menus while awaiting service at restaurants. When possible, they'd attend live theater and symphony concerts, especially the annual Oregon Bach Festival in Eugene. He predeceased her by nine years.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In 2008, while Jim was still with us, I took the train to Oregon following my niece's wedding in San Antonio to attend Lina's 80th birthday bash at Alpha Farm. It was a joy to witness firsthand the appreciation of so many people whose lives she had touched—both in the community and among the Deadwood neighborhood. (I don't believe I've ever cooked so much fresh asparagus in my life.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Caroline was also stubborn—especially when it came to Alpha. She cared deeply about her vision that the community be a sanctuary of sanity and a beacon of light in times of darkness. She was loath to delegate significant authority without her oversight. She insisted on a complex olio of social justice, hospitality, environmental consciousness, and graciousness—all of which was both inspiring and exasperating for those who sometimes wanted to balance things differently… especially the budget. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Impressively, Caroline lived to celebrate Alpha's golden anniversary. She was there for every one of the past 50 years, and it's a monumental testament to dedication and service that few can claim.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Goodbye Lina, my mentor and friend. Please know that I will continue my grieving by baking a cherry pie, with Montmorencies harvested from a neighbor's backyard, topped with locally churned vanilla ice cream (nothing low fat about it)—all of which I know would make you smile.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-5522361017057585112022-05-26T16:36:00.000-05:002022-05-26T16:36:12.139-05:00Teaching the Rest of the Year—An Updated Menu<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Back in December I posted a sneak preview of courses I'd be offering 2022 (<a href="http://communityandconsensus.blogspot.com/2021/12/teaching-in-year-ahead.html">Teaching in the Year Ahead</a>).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While quite a bit of that has come to pass, some things have become more defined, and new things have gelled. So I'm inspired to offer this revised list of offerings for the remainder of the year.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Facilitation Training</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As planned, I completed two rounds of my two-year training in recent months (I had been conducting three concurrently), which has made room on my dance card to launch another round. I have the teaching group lined up—all I need is students. Our hope is to start Sept 22-25.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If this interests you or your group, drop me an email (laird@ic.org) and I'll send you a flyer that lays it all out.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">FIC Webinars</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In addition to what's posted in <a href="http://communityandconsensus.blogspot.com/2021/12/teaching-in-year-ahead.html">Teaching in the Year Ahead</a> I will be part of the faculty for a new offering, <a href="https://www.ic.org/aging-course/139/">Aging Gracefully in Community</a>, which will be offered for five consecutive Tuesdays (each session two hours long), starting June 21. To prime the pump there will be a free introductory gathering, May 31, that will last for 90 minutes. Click <a href="https://www.ic.org/event/aging-gracefully/139/">here</a> for information about the teaser.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Workshops at the National Cohousing Conference • Aug 25-28</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'll be offering three things: </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• An all-day pre-conference intensive styled <i class="" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; text-size-adjust: auto;"><a href="https://www.cohousing.org/cohoevents/2022-madison-intensives/">Consensus 301: Rx for Groups Struggling with Making It Work Well</a>. </i><span class="" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; text-size-adjust: auto;">This will happen Thursday, Aug 25.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span class="" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; text-size-adjust: auto;">Plus these two in-conference workshops (90-min each) occurring during the <a href="https://www.cohousing.org/cohoevents/2022-madison/">main event</a> </span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222;">(exact times TBA):</span></span></p><p><span class="" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• Participation: Issues in Member Contributions</span></span></p><p><span class="" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• Consensus 101: Understanding the Basics</span></span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Podcasts</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In the last month I've been interviewed for two different podcasts—which is a new platform for me:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Rebecca Mesritz put one together for FIC about <a href="https://www.ic.org/podcast-laird-schaub/?utm_source=Foundation+for+Intentional+Community&utm_campaign=b307a5fe53-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2022_04_04_09_22_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_7e39d41ce2-b307a5fe53-472752641&mc_cid=b307a5fe53&mc_eid=97eb50bb06">Skilled Facilitation</a>, and is available now.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Sen Zahn interviewed me this week as part of a segment on Conflict that she'll be editing for <a href="http://www.goodradioshows.org/">Peace Talks Radio</a>, a program syndicated to 60 public radio stations in the US, and others abroad. As of today, no date has been set for when this podcast will be available.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Fortunately, I like being busy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-51437560445347459772022-05-13T06:06:00.001-05:002022-05-13T06:07:15.815-05:00Property Rights & Social Contracts<p><span style="font-family: arial;">A number of intentional communities struggle with the concept of a member's rights in relation to the community's rights, and I want to focus on a particular aspect of it that shows up when there's a vacancy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It's relatively common for forming communities (this is particularly the case with cohousing groups) to promise prospective members that they'll have a free hand if they decide to sell. Understandably, this sweetens the pot for people on the fence about whether to buy a unit—helping the group to cross the finish line in selling out, which helps contain costs for early adopters.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The downside is that it's a questionable practice allowing a departing member to be in charge of selecting their replacement. While I don't want to be alarmist and this often works OK, the seller is generally more concerned with a quick sale at a good price, while the community's priority is a good fit—and those two objectives don't always align.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Worse, what if the seller is departing on less than good terms? Uh oh. They may not be motivated to care that much about how well the new buyer will blend with the community, or be completely forthcoming about the responsibilities and commitments that community members are expected to accept.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Key to sorting this out is understanding that an owner's property rights are distinct from a person's social contract as a member of the community. They are not the same thing. While it's very much in the community's interest to have property owners be members, the two do not automatically coincide.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While the property owner may have legal control over who they sell their property to (it depends on applicable laws and how things have been set up with the community), they do <u>not</u> have the right to unilaterally bless the buyer as a member of the community—which right rests solely with the community.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When these two concepts are conflated, mischief ensues.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">The Power of Proactive Marketing</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Because you want property ownership and community membership to go together, it is very much in the community's interest to play an active role in recruiting suitable buyers. In the ideal, the community will develop and maintain a waiting list of people you already have screened for suitability (value alignment, adequate financial means, and whatever else is on your wish list—maybe you're looking for a cellist for the chamber music ensemble, or a gourmet cook who can turn out elegant meals for 40), so that the exiting member will have an easy time selling and the community will be happy with the new member.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In one of the more creative versions of this, I know of a group where members have agreed to use the community as the real estate broker. In exchange for lining up a buyer (which the community has already determined it wants as a new member) it earns a commission on the deal, with the earnings going into a community improvement fund, thereby taking pressure off HOA dues. Nice.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">However, if the group takes a passive, or hands-off approach in selecting the new buyer (which I don't recommend) it needs to step forward to assert its rights with respect to the social contract—establishing how the rights of membership in the community are tied to social behavior, <u>not</u> to property rights.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Misunderstanding Fair Housing Laws</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Since 1968, it is US federal law that property owners cannot discriminate in who they rent or sell housing to on the basis of seven things: race, color, religion, national origin, sex, disability, and familial status. (There are parallel strata laws in Canada, but I am not as cognizant of the details.) Many communities mistakenly interpret this to mean that they are obliged to accept as a member anyone who applies and can meet the financial requirements. Not so! In fact, it's legal to be selective on the basis of any criteria <i>other than</i> the seven protected classes. Of course, it's a nuanced question what qualities you may want to screen for—I'm only making the case that communities are not legally prohibited from doing so.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While communities may be constrained about who buys and rents real property, they have considerable leeway about who is a member of the community—and therefore eligible to enjoy the rights and privileges thereof. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Make sure your group doesn't miss the boat on this.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><br /><p></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-43441876107840078262022-05-07T12:42:00.002-05:002022-05-07T12:42:51.814-05:00What the F Can Happen with Conflict<p><span style="font-family: arial;">I've been conducting workshops and trainings that focus on conflict in cooperative groups for three decades. For many years I titled a 90-minute presentation, "Conflict: Fight, Flight, or Opportunity?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Over the years I've come to realize that the range of responses to conflict is far wider than fight or flight, and today I want to delve more deeply into that richness—and at the same time indulge my fondness for alliteration.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Framing the Field</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I define conflict as the dynamic where at least two people are in disagreement, and at least one is experiencing nontrivial distress. Thus, it isn't "conflict" unless emotional reactivity is a component. Largely because most of us weren't raised to acknowledge or work with feelings as a regular human response, most groups tend to struggle with how to respond when strong feelings arise. Often people are left on their own in such situations (that is, the group has never discussed how to handle those moments, there is no agreed upon way to respond, nor is anyone authorized to enter that dynamic). The challenge is compounded by most of us having few (or no) examples of engaging with fulminating upset leading to anything but trauma and relationship damage. So engagement seems fraught with danger.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For some reason, it turns out that many of the ways that people respond when conflict emerges can be cleverly characterized by words beginning with the letter F. (Who knew?) Let me enumerate…</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">—Fight</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When someone is in distress, one the ways that can be expressed is with anger, or even rage. Triggered by something another person did or said, the person in reaction comes out swinging. Often, this will result in counterpunching in return, and an exchange of salvos ensues.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">—Flight</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Another common impulse when triggered is to run away. Perhaps to get away from the event or person that's the trigger; perhaps to avoid saying or doing something you might regret later. You may be uncomfortable in reaction (whether yours or others) and want to remove yourself from that dynamic posthaste. This may also be the response when another person is upset and you're afraid of being caught in their crosshairs. Sometimes the flight response is traceable to childhood efforts to escape the wrath of an abusive parent or guardian.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">—Freeze</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is a deer-in-the-headlights response. Sometimes people will shut down when in reaction and glaze over. More commonly though, you'll see this as an attempt to be safe when someone else is upset and you're afraid of drawing their attention—because you might suddenly be the target of their invective. As with flight, this might be a coping mechanism arising from being raised in a family with an angry parent—perhaps one with a drinking problem. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When you feel unsafe, your amygdala takes over and you do whatever you believe necessary to survive. While the situation may not truly be life-or-death, it may be feel that way in the moment.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">—Flail</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While you don't see this response much, it's when someone ramps up their response, which may be either honest or strategic, in an attempt to distract the upset person, as well as the group. In essence, they become the center of attention in <i>their</i> distress, drawing the spotlight away from the person originally triggered. (Oh, woe is me.)</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">—Fawn</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is an attempt to placate the upset person—trying to calm them down through appeasement, in the theory that their fire (anger) will die back if deprived of fuel.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">—Finesse</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This has considerable subtlety. Fearing the aggressive things the upset person might do, you carefully frame what you say or do in language calculated to be less likely to feed the beast. It's more engaging than fawning, yet often fails because the upset person feels managed rather than heard. Like you're following a script rather than your heart.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">—Fuggedaboutit</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is walking away—not running away (flight). It's deciding it's not worth it (or too scary) to engage with the upset, and acting is if nothing of significance has occurred energetically. (Let's not make a mountain out of a mole hill.)</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">—Feel into it</span></b></p><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Ultimately, all of the choices above are forms of conflict avoidance or conflict management. What about conflict engagement? That, I believe is where the money is. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">My sense is that nothing works better than turning toward the upset and acknowledging it—to the speaker's satisfaction—making sure to connect with their emotional experience, the trigger point, and its impact on the person in reaction. While not so easily done in the chaotic moment, the principles are not difficult to lay out. Just use plain words and speak from the heart. If you get it wrong, don't worry—the speaker will let you know.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Forewarnings</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">The three most common pitfalls when engaging with conflict are:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">• Going into reaction yourself—it's not easy to stay centered or to focus on the speaker when you need help yourself.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">• Giving a response instead of a reflection. The priority here is to make sure that the speaker feels heard before attempting anything else. There will be time for responses later.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">• Offering a critique or reprimand about the speaker's delivery. If they are in reaction, this will most likely land as gas on the fire and won't be constructive. Even if their delivery was provocative or aggressive, you cannot reasonable ask an upset person to reflect on that while they're desperate to be heard. You may be able to speak with them about their poor choice of delivery later—but not at first.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Final Fillip</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">The bad news is that this work can be scary and there's no guarantee that it will go well. The good news is that it <i>can</i> be done well—and is urgently needed. My closing admonition is to take a deep breath and give conflict engagement—feeling into it—a try. What the F? It's unlikely to be worse than what you're getting with any other approach.</span></div>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-42556107813363754662022-05-04T11:06:00.001-05:002022-05-04T11:06:36.266-05:00The Intersection of Discretion, Transparency, and Trust<p><span style="font-family: arial;">One of the prime challenges of community living is developing and maintaining trust among members. Groups will invariably be comprised of diverse people: different communication styles, a variety of personalities, a range of social and recreational proclivities, extroverts and introverts, fast and slow thinkers, risk averse and risk tolerant, young parents and septuagenarians, drinkers and teetotalers… people who can't stand garlic, and those who hate dogs. You pretty much have to use all the crayons in the box to draw the full picture.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It is naive to project harmony and laminar flow on groups simply because they align around vision and common values. The question is the extent to which groups are aware of this rich diversity and work to understand it—rather than adopting a one-size-fits-all approach (setting things up to work well for an idealized "normal" person, while everyone with divergent characteristics has to adapt or accept being left behind).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When groups fail to understand the above (a fairly common blind spot in my experience), there can be considerable friction when styles clash, and this will tend to undermine trust unless the friction is attended to. As we tend to not trust what we don't understand, it matters a great deal whether members make a genuine effort to get to know how each member is different, how they process information, what matters to them, etc.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While all groups desire trust among members, you don't achieve it or sustain it simply by stating a desire for it. You can't get it delivered by Amazon Prime, or by redeeming green stamps; you have to roll up your sleeves and <i>work</i> at it. An important principle in that regard is the relationship between trust and the flow of information. Simply put, when information is constricted, so is trust.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This gets complicated in community because most of us are used to living more private lives, where what happens in a household is shared only among close friends and family. Now it's not so clear. Private boundaries still exist, yet they have shrunk in two regards:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">First, some kinds of decisions impact more than one's household to the extent that everyone gets a says in policy—it is no longer just a matter of each household acting on its own. You still have complete discretion over what you eat for dinner, yet it's the group's business whether your dog poops on the path or is aggressive around children. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Second, there is a more subtle level of this, where the group does not expect to have a say in household decisions, yet is impacted by them. Take the example of intimate partners. Few groups expect members to consult before making such a decision, yet there may be ramifications of your choice that impact your neighbors. Let's say Dale is a long-term community member and starts up a new relationship with Chris, who is new to the community. A host of questions can emerge:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Is Chris automatically a group member, or must they go through a membership process just like anyone else?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—If Chris behaves in ways that are problematic to members, how should that be handled? Is Dale responsible for Chris' behavior? Is it OK with Dale that other community members give Chris direct feedback about how they're behaving on campus?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">—Is it reasonable to expect Chris to understand and abide by communication standards adopted by the community?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">To muddy the waters further, suppose Chris is not new to the community, but had been living in the community in a relationship with Pat, and has now switched partners. Oh boy. (And don't tell me that that won't happen.) While the decision to make this switch is not subject to community review, you can bet your bottom dollar that it will impact the group socially. Can this be discussed (other than in the parking lot)?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Absent an awareness of the need and a willingness to have tender conversations, they are likely avoided. As a result, people are left in the dark and trust is degraded. Not because people want that result, but because they're afraid that the sharing will be awkward, embarrassing, or condemning.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In any given situation—not just in community—there is dynamic tension between discretion and transparency. What information is inappropriate to share, and what should be shared? What are the perceived costs and benefits?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I want to make the case that in community—where the lives of members has been purposefully interwoven to a greater degree than in the mainstream—groups are better off pushing the balance point more toward transparency than they are habituated to, because trust (dependent on information flow) is such a precious commodity. Yes, this calls for developing the skills needed to speak about personal matters cleanly (by which I mean non-judgmentally) and honestly, as well as the maturity needed to treat personal information with care and compassion.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But isn't this what you came to community hoping to find? Every time you shy away from sharing, it's a statement about the limit of how much you trust your fellow community members. Ouch!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">To be clear, I am not talking about "gory details" or titillating he said/she said gossip. I'm not asking you to view community as a soap opera. I'm talking about letting the group know that two people had a flare up, this is what it was about, and this was the resolution. At the end of the day, it's my sense that there are very few situations that justify withholding information—at least in summary form—from your fellow community mates. What is held back in the name of discretion is often just avoidance, or a dearth of skill or will. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Trust, unfortunately, is the collateral damage.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-57383354201201900802022-04-15T09:17:00.001-05:002022-04-15T09:17:50.148-05:00Controlling the Story<p><span style="font-family: arial;">I was raised as a Lutheran, and learned right away that there were competing ideas about right relationship to the divine. Not only were there a wide variety of religions (as well as those who rejected all religions—isn't it the ultimate act of hubris for humans to claim they comprehend "that which passeth all understanding"?), but there has evolved major disagreement among Christians, including a kaleidoscopic variety of Protestants sects, most of which are further fractured by doctrinal nuances. It's bewildering.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As an adult, I've become increasingly interested in the position that different religions take with respect to other religions, or different sects within the same religion. While many preach that theirs is the one true way and all others are apostate and worship false idols, there are also graduations of condemnation (where, for example, congregations of certain sects are considered confused or misguided, but not necessarily hopeless or infidels). Most refreshing of all, IMO, is finding religions that promote spiritual inquiry, but leave it up to the individual to figure out what best works for them, a la Unitarian Universalism. For those who embrace UU thinking, there are many true ways. Hmm.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Ten years ago I stumbled onto <i>How It Is</i>, the collected writing on Viola Cordova (1937-2002), a Native American philosopher and cosmologist. She was a Jicarilla Apache mixed with Hispanic blood, who grew up in northern New Mexico. She became a professor who studied and taught Western philosophy while articulating Native American philosophy. She did a lot to contrast White/Eurocentric and Native American cosmologies, and I found her writing illuminating.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Cordova explains that in Native American philosophy there is an emphasis on place, where beliefs about how the world began and what it means are specific to locale and are not expected to be the same elsewhere. There is just one Earth, of which we are all a part. There is no heaven; no parallel universes; no do-overs. The Earth is our home—as well the home of all other peoples and species. It is where we learn the meaning of harmony and coexistence. It is not inherently dangerous.<br /><br />This made so much sense to me! Why accept the premise that there is one best answer? Why can't there be many?</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">How the Profound Informs the Mundane</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Regardless of where one comes out on the matter of right relationship to the divine, it's not difficult to connect the dots between the point I explored above and how groups function (or fail to function), which is basically the focus on my life work. In mainstream US culture there is more or less a constant battle to control the story, labeling it a moral imperative: either believe my version or be subject to my derision and rejection as a moral degenerate. While that's an overly harsh characterization of the entire culture (there still exist moderate Republicans and Democrats who are left out in this analysis), there is ample evidence that it's a fair description of what dominates current political rhetoric, and the way that we engage with disagreement.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Sadly, people bring this combative, righteous style with them when attempting to create cooperative culture (whether in intentional community, co-ops, schools, churches, nonprofits, neighborhood associations, or whatever), resulting in all manner of mischief when unexamined.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">All too often, when a group is wrestling with an issue and different perspectives emerge, those on each side will go through a process something like this:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• I, and those who agree with me, are thinking about what's best for the group; our viewpoint is tied to one or more recognized group values.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• If people disagree with me, they must be opposed to that group value. Their thinking must be rooted in selfish concerns—something other than group concerns.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">• I have the high moral ground and need to defeat this opposing perspective, both for the sake of securing the best response to this issue, and for the good of the group going forward—we cannot give in to selfish concerns.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Thus, it becomes a holy war and there is a tendency to recapitulate (psychically, not physically) the same dynamics that have plagued humanity all along: the urge to vanquish the infidels in the name of the divine. We are fighting the good fight, and we are righteous. Once this mind set obtains, any movement from one side toward the other is often seen as compromise or selling out—something to be disdained.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In this toxic atmosphere, tempers flare, hearing degrades, and problems don't get solved. Yuck.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">How Air Can Lead to Error</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So how can we do this better? I'll give you my answer by way of an example. Let's suppose there's a suggestion on the table to install air conditioning in the common house. Side A is in favor of this, and Side B opposes it. Side A is grounding their position on quality of life of members, who have trouble functioning in the community's hot and humid climate during the summer months. In order to make full use of the common house—a major community asset—they favor this upgrade (something the community couldn't afford in initial construction). Side B is concerned about cost (both the initial outlay and the higher utility bills) as well as the environmental impact.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In summary, Side A is thinking about community values Q (quality of life of members) and F (making full use of common assets). Side B is thinking about community values A (affordability) and E (environmental impact).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If the conversation remains focused on installing air conditioning, it becomes a tug-of-war dynamic, with a winner and loser. In my experience these conversations tend to be exhausting and unsatisfying, <u>yet follow naturally from our conditioning</u>.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When facilitating the consideration, it is often helpful to ask everyone to step back for a moment from debating air conditioning—a particular solution—to examine the interests that inform the prospectives: Q, F, A, and E. Typically, it isn't difficult to establish that each side is thinking about what's best for the group—they're just emphasizing different values. More, Side A is pro-Q and Pro-F, but miscast as anti-A or anti-E. Similar, Side B is pro-A and pro-E, but not anti-Q or anti-F. Getting everyone to recognize this is deescalating.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is important for two reasons:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">a) It establishes that there is no high moral ground, and no one is being selfish. So let go of that (and the tendency to respond from righteousness).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">b) There is no benefit in lamenting that the group isn't all of one mind at the outset. That's normal. The conversation that you want to have—the one that's constructive—is <u>not</u> about air conditioning. You want to discuss how best to balance values Q, F, A, and E, all of which are now known to be in play on the issue of the common house being too uncomfortable for some members to use in the summer months. The solution that emerges may involve air conditioning, or it may not.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">There is much more wiggle room in <u>that</u> conversation than there is in a battle over air conditioning.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">At root here is understanding that it doesn't benefit the group when people try to control the story. It works far better when you simply expect there to be different stories, and accept with grace the need to hear them all and to balance how the group's common interests intersect in this instance. <u>That</u> is the righteous work.</span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Out of One, Many</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Working backwards from our national motto, <i>e pluribus unum</i> (out of many, one) I'm advocating for the problem solving potential of seeing that there are generally many pathways forward and it is enormously liberating and constructive to start with the assumption that different people will frequently see an issue in different ways and that that's a cooperative group's strength, rather than a consternation. To get there, the group needs to accept the basic premise that it is often a trap to presume there is one correct prospective and that that will be the survivor of rigorous debate.</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-44177466628383973422022-03-09T16:39:00.000-06:002022-03-09T16:39:05.532-06:00The Challenge of Integrating New members<p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: arial;">I recently received this blog comment from Rabbit:</span></span></p><p><i><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;">I have lived in a cohousing community in California since 1999. A friend told me she'd read somewhere that you write about an inevitable moment in a community's life when the early people (founders, or some such term) and later people collide over change and changes in what earlier folks hold/held as the "vision" for the community... </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;">I'm looking for some guidance on our community as it confronts some of the conflicts embedded in this older/newer member conflict.</span></span></i></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: arial;">While Rabbit's framing doesn’t evoke a memory of a specific piece of writing, the topic is familiar to me, and I think it's a worthy one to explore. </span></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: arial;">The first comment to make is that this is an issue peculiar to successful communities—only ones that last long enough can have both older and newer members.</span></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: arial;">As I reflect on it, there are a handful of elements that may be present in this dynamic (which is related to why this is messy), and I think it’s useful to tease them out, and take a look at each separately. In no particular order:</span></span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">a) <b>Vision Drift</b> (a close relative of mission drift)</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Even if there were no turnover in a group over 20 years (highly unlikely, but possible), people’s life circumstances change and their priorities and thinking are prone to shift, which can result in the same people no longer wanting the same things they’d did two decades ago. With that in mind, as well as what you get with turnover, I think it’s a good idea for groups to step back and reset the gyroscope every five years or so, to test for this. Where is the group<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>today</i>?</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">b) <b>Integration of New Members</b></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A key question is how to affirm the desire to support new people getting their oar in the water (contributing their energy and new ideas), while not signing a blank check—the group still needs to exercise discernment about whether new ideas are worth supporting. While this dynamic exists independently of whether new ideas originated from longer-term members or newer members, it is particularly challenging when they come from the newbies, who may have trouble parsing out how much the older folks are close-minded and how much their ideas are naive.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">c) <b>Quality of Records</b></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Can members (new or old) reasonably discover what the group took into account when addressing this topic that the group has wrestled with before? Are the records good enough to tell what’s changed from then until now that justifies looking at it again? I advocate that the standard for reviewing a past decision is what's different? (Note that I am <u>not</u> saying that a policy or agreement should be reviewed simply because a new person doesn't like it. They deserve a response, but the group is not obliged to jump to the new person's call.) If your minutes aren’t good enough (or accessible) then you’re relying on oral history and that’s likely to be less satisfying. </span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">d) <b>Peeing on the Tires</b></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It is the tendency of most people to want to have a say in community agreements—to want to make a contribution. While you can expect this from<span class="Apple-converted-space"> everyone<i>, </i></span>it shows up differently in old and new members. If, for example, it isn't clear whether it's better to stick with the old policy or to try something new, longer-term members will tend to prefer the status quo (<u>their</u> work), while the newer folks will tend to favor a change, so that their contributions can get some love. Though both mean well, there can be a clash that's tricky to navigate.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">e) <b>New People Tend to Be More Attracted to Your Reality than Your Vision</b></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Vision is what you are moving toward, even if it’s something you never fully achieve. Even if everyone at the outset is aligned around it, the folks who join later tend to make their decision to enroll on the good ship Community more on the basis of what you<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>have</i><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>achieved, than on what you say you<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>intend</i><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>to achieve. When that occurs, the later arrivals can become a sea anchor that resists ongoing movement toward the distant isles, because they like it where you are now. This can be spirit crushing for founders in whom the vision still burns brightly.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">f) <b>Understanding the Pioneer/Settler Dynamic</b></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By nature, founders (pioneers) need to be risk tolerant—entrepreneurial. Launching an intentional community is a step into the unknown in many ways and it’s hard to succeed if risks scare you to death. However, if you survive the early days and become established, the later arrivals (settlers) tend to be less risk tolerant—after all, they are joining a known, tangible thing. The houses have already been built. The processes are already in place.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On the one hand, risk aversion among settlers will tend to reinforce point e). On the other, some fraction of new folks will also be entrepreneurial and are likely to want to have a chance at creation also—just like the pioneers did—recapitulating the dynamics of point d).</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">g) <b>How Much Do You Invest in Integrating New Members?</b></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Sometimes the older folks forget what it was like to be a newbie—even though everyone was one once. For most new folks, joining an intentional community is an adventure unlike anything they've done before. So much so that it's unreasonable to expect them to even know what questions to ask.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This task is further complicated by the richness of community culture. While it's one thing to create and disseminate to new arrivals a book of agreements (it's a good idea for everyone to have a copy BTW), that's just the tip of the iceberg. The vast majority of norms or customs will not be delineated in a handbook—which means that someone has to be available to offer community in translation, or you are essentially deciding that it's OK for the new folks to figure it out by trial and error. (<b>Hint</b>: this is a poor choice.)</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Taken all together, I believe it's incumbent on the established members to take a proactive attitude toward demystifying the community culture, and offering the information in multiple ways (in recognition that people have a variety of preferred learning styles). Thus, in addition to handing new arrivals a copy of your self-published Field Guide to Our Community (some like to read), you will be well-advised to also assign them a buddy (because some don't like to read), who gets together with her or his charges regularly to answer questions and explain what's <i>really</i> happening in the community. (<b>Hint</b>: this service can be especially valuable after community meetings, where there's a whole bunch of history and habits that are crammed higgledy-piggledy into a mere two hours.)</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">h) <b>Commitment to Pulling the Weeds</b></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Creating a successful intentional community is more than just surviving the pioneer stage. After you break the ground and plant the seeds, you still have to tend the garden. In particular, groups tend to benefit strongly from consensus and conflict training—as a mainstream upbringing generally doesn't prepare folks well for either. Rather than just doing them once in the early years (like a vaccine against polio), I suggest repeating them for new arrivals. This is a much better strategy than expecting new folks to just pick it up osmotically. Think of trainings as booster shots.</span></div>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-65039707010382086682022-03-07T21:13:00.000-06:002022-03-07T21:13:45.054-06:00Choices at the Point of Conflict Emergence<p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;">There is considerable leverage available to both individuals and groups if everyone has a general sense of what's happening and one's options at the point when conflict first manifests—when you first realize that there is significant reactivity in the room. Regardless of whether you are conflict avoidant or fully embrace fulminating upset, it helps to have a general sense of how to respond, beyond flight, fight, or freeze.</span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There are, essentially, three cases:</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Case A—The other person is in reaction, and you aren't</span></b></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Try to make your first step an attempt to acknowledge what the upset person is going through, which includes both a reflection of their emotional response and what the trigger was. Try to do that with minimal judgment. Note that a reflection (what is going on for them) is different than a response (what you think about that). This is the most deescalating thing you can do.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A complication can arise when the upset person is aggressive or attacking in how they express themselves. They may be clearly crossing a line of acceptable behavior in the context of group norms and it may be tempting to call them on that as a first response—both because you may experience what they've done as outrageous and damaging; and because you may hope that putting up a firm stop sign may interrupt the abuse.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Although it may be counterintuitive, I've learned that it's generally more effective to first show that you see that the upset person is in reaction and you are paying attention to what's happening for them. Even if you don't understand their reaction, you can acknowledge it. It demonstrates that you care and that you are not shying away from them when they're hurting.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Think of it this way: the person in distress is drowning, and their thrashing about (lashing out at others) is a cry for help. What they most need in that moment is oxygen, not a critique of their swimming strokes. When you hold someone accurately, they will feel less isolated, and the reaction will tend to diminish.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There will still be an opportunity to point out that they expressed their upset in a damaging way, just don't attempt offering that feedback until <u>after</u> you've bridged successfully to their reaction and been acknowledged by them as having been heard.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Case B—You alone are in reaction</span></b></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face="Palatino-Roman">The first step is recognizing that this is going on for you (as you cannot do something about a condition you’re not conscious of). Once you know (or can admit to yourself) that you are in reaction, try to accept that with as little judgment as possible, and seek self-care as your top priority. This can look like many things and can vary considerably from person to person. The key is knowing what<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><i>you</i><span face="Palatino-Roman"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>need. In general it helps to be offered what I proposed you extend to someone else in reaction (see Case A). </span></span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span face="Palatino-Roman" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span face="Palatino-Roman" style="font-family: arial;">Some people are able to manage this step on their own; others need help. You’ll know when this has been successful because you'll feel the deescalation (track your sensations—your body will tell you your degree of upset). If possible, try to articulate what's going for you, stripped of aggression. Note that it’s entirely different to report having an emotional response (“I‘m angry”) than it is to <i>in </i>the emotional response (“You asshole”). This is not about denying feelings; it’s about recognizing the potential danger of lashing out in a state of upset.</span></span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span face="Palatino-Roman" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><span face="Palatino-Roman">A word of caution about self-care. W</span></span>hen someone moves away from the trigger to attend to themselves, this can proceed in a couple of ways:</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Option 1: Acknowledging the reaction and moving through it</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In this approach, the person asks questions like:</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• What am I feeling?</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• How do my feelings serve me?</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• Can I accept that I did what I did, and not judge myself?</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• What part of this can I own?</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">• What can I do to make it better?</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Option 2: Armoring up</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The person may indulge in self-laudatory statements (I'm OK; I didn't do anything wrong) or adopt the role of victim (I was mistreated; It was all their fault). When this happens it's laying responsibility at the other person's feet, complicating relationship repair.</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There is a significant difference between the two.</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Case C—Both are in reaction</span></b></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This is the messiest version. Both of you need self-care at the same time yet neither can reasonably be expected to extend support to the other until you’ve received it yourself. Your mantra here should be: put your own oxygen mask on first. That probably means breaking off engagement with the other person for, at a minimum, the time it takes to effect self-care, either alone or with the assistance of others. Once you’ve accomplished that, you can consider whether there is still a need to extend reflection to the other person, to help them deescalate (I frame it this way because the other person may be getting what they need without you and by the time you're ready to reach out, they may no longer be in a raw place).</span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;">If you attempt to reach out to the other person sooner than they're ready, well-intended offerings are likely to be misconstrued simply because something you said or did may have been triggering for them and you are the last person they can trust in that moment to hear them fairly—even if you are able to, you are not likely to be trusted.</span></div></div>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090387618484983886.post-21237234117884966142022-02-04T15:12:00.002-06:002022-02-04T15:12:40.970-06:00Mud Wrestling in a Tutu<p><span style="font-family: arial;">In recent months I've been working with a forming group that has encountered some interpersonal tensions that have persisted—in some instances for years (they've been forming for seven). As everyone involved is new to community living, they did not understand at the outset that such tensions would arise or the importance of working them through (or put another way, the cost of not working them through).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">They are good people (by which I mean intelligent and well-intended) yet this was new territory and they didn't know how to frame it. Essentially, they did the best they could—some things got worked through and other things didn't. In no case, as far as I could tell, did they believe that concerns were serious enough to bring in outside help prior to my arrival. In short, I experience them as a fairly normal group.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">What's somewhat unusual about this situation is that my invitation came not from the people in the stew, but from new members who became aware of the deleterious impact of the unresolved tensions (think dark clouds overhead that rarely dissipate) and pushed the longer-term members to bring in outside help to see if things could be cleared up.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When the older members agreed, I was hired, and I set up interviews with the folks identified as being the sources of the long-term tensions. From this I produced a summary of what I discovered in the interviews (not a he-said-she-said, but an overall picture).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My observations didn't go down smoothly with everyone. This didn't surprise me, as things had deteriorated to the point where each of the people I spoke with had at least two others on the list that they were not talking to. Thus, I had done something that no one else among them had done in recent times: I spoke with <i>everyone</i> and listened to what they had to say. I didn't expect the stories to align easily (after all, I didn't get asked in because everything was in laminar flow) and I pointed this out. As some very much wanted their story to prevail, they had trouble with my rocking that boat.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Next I offered a proposal for how to move forward, the main feature of which was doing relationship repair with any pair who was willing, with me facilitating. Some dropped out at this point; others are staying the course. In the main, the folks who declined to continue with me reported that they didn't have anything to clear with anyone else and were sufficiently open to doing so that they didn't need help from me. Further they considered it voyeuristic and awkward to be present while others did that work.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">What I want to drill down on today is that two of those who opted out of working with me interpersonally have careers in academia, and I lay in bed this morning chewing on that. As I understand it, good professors have a foundational commitment to curiosity and openness to new ideas (based on the premise that no one has perfect knowledge, we can all learn new things, and it'll be a better world if we are open to that possibility—that they aspire to instill a thirst for learning among their students as well as a capacity for critical thinking, which expressly includes the idea that it's invaluable to hear new thoughts). Yet I wasn't experiencing these professors as operating from that framework—even though I was speaking from my area of experience about something they were new to. What was going on?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Here's what I intuit has happened. While the personalities of the two are quite different (and, interestingly, they don't particularly get along with each other), they both rejected working with me further after: a) I did an interview with each to listen to what they wanted me to know about what was happening in the community and where I might be useful; and b) they read my summary of what I learned in the interviews—which included the observation that among all who participated there were at least two others in the mix who were carrying animus toward them. In other words, I was able to confirm that unresolved tensions existed in all directions.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For one of the professors there was deep skepticism that this kind of work was needed to build a successful community. For the other there was skepticism about whether I was accurate in my summary and the suspicion that I might be overplaying the situation to drum up business for myself (this is styled "churning" in the investment broker field, and is highly unethical). Both held the view that they were open to working through tensions with others and if someone was upset with them and didn't approach them, that it was on them and let's move on. Wallowing in someone else's shit with Laird did not appeal to them.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Then I further reflected about what I know about group dynamics in academia. While my knowledge there is limited, I have occasionally worked with universities and have been largely appalled at the Byzantine politics and rancorous dynamics that obtain when faculty disagree. In short, it tends to be highly competitive (if not outright combative), standing in sharp contrast with the collaborative culture that intentional communities generally strive for. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">To be fair, I have no specific knowledge of the professorial dynamics at the institutions that these two teach at, but it occurred to me that these professors were willing to dismiss me and what I offered without bothering to hear why I thought what I offered was important, to learn any details about what I proposed to do, or even an openness to experiencing what I could to do, so that they could make an assessment about its efficacy based on first-hand knowledge—rather than on a projection. I'm guessing that they deem themselves to be successful in navigating dynamics in academia and see no reason that this expertise won't apply just as well to community dynamics. While it's amazing how far ignorance can take you, I can see how this might have happened. It's a phenomenon I call "unencumbered by reality." Not knowing what community might be like, they have simply projected from their life experiences that it would be more of what they already know. While that's not particularly sound thinking, I can appreciate how it might happen. Haven't we all been guilty of making unwarranted assumptions?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">On the one hand, I am sympathetic to the dynamic of not knowing what you don't know. On the other, I think it's reasonable to expect professors to be sensitive to this possibility, and to be held to a higher standard, more in line with their professional ethics. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I think what's happened at a visceral level, is that my report calls into question the value of what they know (or assume) about group dynamics in community and that it's hard for them to accept my word that it ain't so, as it threatens how they see themselves in the world and the application of their academic savvy. They see themselves as open to information from others—in particular, critical information about how their behavior is seen—yet their self perceptions matched up poorly with what others reported to me about them and this was unwelcome news. It was far more appealing to dismiss or attempt to discredit my observations than to look in the mirror (which I reckon is how they go about testing the resilience of divergent ideas in academia).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">From where I sit, presuming to project the application of academia dynamics onto community life is about as accurate as saying that you expect to be good at ballet because you're experienced at mud wrestling. It turns out, in fact, that they are quite different endeavors, and what you learn at one is not at all sufficient to prepare you to be proficient at the other. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now where did a put that leotard?</span></p>Laird Schaubhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01751204926086189047noreply@blogger.com2