Sometimes, I feel like I have just been talked AT. No dialogue. No asking my perspective. One descriptor said that it feels like their boss has come into their office and said, “Do this, think this way, shut up, and go there!" There is a lot of talking AT people going on these days. No one seems to be listening.
It feels like no one has any time to listen to anyone anymore at all. We have all become experts in our own minds over the past couple of years on mRNA technology, vaccines, statistical curve flattening, etc…even though very few of us have even taken a calculus class to know what flattening a curve really means...or is it statistics?
If you are not sure, then I have made my point! We read one article from the Washington Post written by a journalist whose editor is politically tied to a party and we count that article as completely factual. So, there is not much thinking going on these days either. Just a whole lot of people running around REACTING..
I Get it. Sort of.
At the end of our block when I was 10 years old, there was this old house that was probably built in the early 1900s. It had been condemned by the health department with a clear sign posted on the door: DANGER KEEP OUT: BUILDING CONDEMNED.
All the kids in the neighborhood had been told by their parents to not go near that house. My dad was a construction guy and he sat me down and told me about the rusty nails that would be sticking out of the floorboards, and how the front porch was unsettled to the point it could collapse at any moment. He also seemed to be concerned that rats or some other wild animal could have taken up residence inside, as the house was nestled up against a heavily wooded area.
At one time, I bet this house was pretty cool. Probably the talk of the town, two stories with a pillar-supported front porch. It was about 1/2 mile from the Illinois River and sat up high enough on the hill that on a clear day you could easily see the river and likely all the way across.
But time had taken its toll on the place. We had lived in the neighborhood for three years and my grandparents had lived there for at least 20. My grandad couldn’t remember the last time someone lived in the home. No one knew for sure who owned it. The entire place was a real mystery.
But for us kids in the neighborhood, the house was one thing… haunted. That meant it was ripe for exploring as soon as one of us in the group mustered up enough courage to suggest we go poke around and see what might be inside. That kid was named Bobby. He wasn’t a real leader for the group unless it was for things that were sure to get us all in trouble, in which case Bobby was pretty good at that. It might have been Bobby’s idea, but you really can’t blame a group of ten-year-old boys for just wanting an adventure on an otherwise hot, boring summer day, can you? What? You don’t think it is a good idea either?
Well neither did my mom nor my dad. I got two doses of the lecture on that day after my mom got the call from a man named Mr. Thompson. And then again after my dad got home and my mom told him about the phone call with Mr. Thompson.
Reacting
Boy, could my mom lecture. This one went about half an hour from what I recall, complete with volume, tone, and pitch as she explained to me the dangers of our exploration. She mentioned words like tetanus and trespassing, neither of which would have meant anything at all to me even if they were delivered without volume, tone, or pitch. We didn’t have internet then, so I couldn’t quickly look it up to see what tetanus meant, I just had to take mom’s word for it. She was the expert. What she decided was true…and was what we went with. If this lecture was a court of law, mom was both the prosecutor and the judge. Where was Bobby when I needed him?
And the verdict…Guilty! (Before I even had the chance to take the stand.)
Mr. Thompson was a truck driver who just happened to be home that day between hauls and saw us poking around. He called all our parents. Mr. Thompson was an otherwise nice guy, a bit nosey perhaps, but a nice guy. However, in my case, he was an eyewitness. I was doomed. His credibility was impeccable.
Of course, I denied it, but I have to give mom credit. As a prosecutor she was good. “Why would Mr. Thompson lie about that…why would he even care if it was not true?”I had no response. I thought about attacking Mr. Thompson’s character. Probably good impulse control at that point. Had I said anything at that point it would have for sure been held against me.
The penalty…Grounded! Crap. Grounding was the worst.
“Mom, couldn’t you just beat me?” (This was a legitimate form of punishment 50 years ago!) My logic was that although a beating would hurt, it would end, and then it was over. Grounding a 10-year-old boy was painful torture meant for thieves and murderers. Really what that meant was that I was home and in the house when dad got home. Crap. Beating and grounding. That is not fair or just.
The thing was, from my perspective, no one seemed to care about me. I swear the only thing my parents cared about was what the neighbors might think if they saw me in that old house. Or what if the police came…what then? I could have gotten arrested. Worse yet, the neighbors would see the police in our driveway. I think my mom would have rather me just be arrested.
Not to mention all the potential health risks or physical danger if something happened like the roof collapsing on me. I can still hear Dad saying "You know the pillars that support the weight of that roof could just collapse and then you would be crushed?”
You have to know one thing. I really love my parents. My dad has been gone for over 20 years now and I miss him a lot. What I wouldn’t give to get a lecture on how to best protect myself from the dangers that lurk around every corner. Most of the time my mom and dad were actually pretty good listeners…except when they reacted with angry or scared emotions.
Humble Inquiry
There are a lot of people running around right now angry and scared.
People are angry that they still have to come to work at the office, while others work from home.
People who had to furlough are scared because they have house payments, car payments, insurance payments, and utility payments, and they had no margin in their lives even when they had full incomes.
When people are scared or angry they can get all kinds of emotionally unsettled. I really love the concept Edgar Schein wrote about a number of years ago called Humble Inquiry. If you are a regular blog reader you will know this book is a favorite of mine. The subtitle is what is really brilliant: “The Gentle Art of Asking Instead of Telling.”
When people get all fired up angry or scared they stop thinking and just start reacting. As a leader, you need good impulse control and not to react back at them at that moment. What I coach leaders to do in this instance is to practice some “humble inquiry” vs. reacting.
Minimize your own preconceptions. You are about to get curious about someone who is scared. Clear your mind and shift from judging to observing.
Keep your questions for them open-ended. You want to explore with the scared person what is it that is really scaring them.
Practice giving up control of the conversation. You are not trying to lead them anywhere specific. You are there to just help them process what they are experiencing.
What might it be like if we all just got a little more curious about where folks are coming from these days? They may not ever tell you the real reason they are scared, but they will remember you as an excellent listener, if you practice some humble inquiry vs. reacting.