The essence of learning facilitation

We are all facilitators. Some of us embrace facilitation and some of us are happy to leave it to others. It’s basically getting a group to work together. Facilitators are everywhere. On construction sites, in homes, on the internet, in offices. You don’t do the work for others, you get them working together. It might be manual work, it might be creative, it might be ordinary, every-day work, and it might be for something special.

Part of my art as a facilitator is to share what I know with others. To be accessible. To be generous. So when I was asked the other day what the learning outcomes would be for a facilitation training, I answered in a way that even surprised me. And in a way that excites me for this work. And in a way that sits well with me. It’s not about learning more techniques – you can find that in the internet; it’s not about knowing what to do in what situation – that comes from experience; and it’s certainly not about following any pre-determined plan or manual or guidelines or recipe.

Sharing the art of facilitation is to create an enthusiasm and excitement for facilitation, and a desire to continually explore and learn.

This is my challenge. This is my art. This is what we can do together.

More on breaking patterns

So consider the role of training other facilitators, or indeed, training others in our own profession, whatever that might be. Is that not also about patterns, if not breaking them, at least exploring new ones? How do I (the one delivering the training) make sure I’m not just reinforcing my patterns?

BTW, I believe breaking patterns is good because it encourages us to look at alternatives and to grow. Humans have always reached for the unatainable, explored the unknown and invented new ways. We can’t all be explorers and adventurers – or can we? Maybe we can be explorers and adventurers in our own area of expertise.

Sometimes the hardest part about exploring is leaving the port. Letting go of the way we’ve always done something to make space for a different way. Imagine the monkey bar – hard to get any movement unless you let go of the bars. I’m pondering what I need to let go of, and I think it’s my need to be seen as competent. What is it you need to let go of?

I explore by reading blogs, and books, and doing improvised theatre and trying to be (mostly) open to new experiences. Scary sometimes, but worth it. I also find adventure in working with others. You?

Facilitator as disruptor II

Back in 2008 (that long ago!) I wrote about the facilitator as disruptor. This has captured my attention again.

Then, I wrote about the role of a facilitator as a the ‘trickster’, now I’m considering the role as ‘circuit breaker’.

It seems to me that a lot of facilitation is about breaking patterns – patterns of behaviour, of thinking, of responding. And increasingly I’m being asked to ‘explore alternatives’ – whatever that means. The danger, of course, is to fall into the trap of the Curse of Knowledge - that insidious place we find ourselves when we’re competent at something and are needing to explain it to a novice. The Curse of Knowledge affects me when I have to explain something and just can’t find the words or the process or the description. It’s frustrating, cos it’s second nature to me. I have to remind myself to think like a novice and try to remember what it was like not to know. And that’s the problem. It’s really hard to remember what it’s like not to know. Try to imagine what it was like not knowing how to drive or ride a bicycle.

That’s why it’s easiest to facilitate something I know little about, and I think it’s why in-house facilitators sometimes have such a tough time. The Curse of Knowledge works both ways – they provide way too much information and details (just to prove how much they DO know) and the participants expect an in-house subject matter expert to be, well, an expert. So existing patterns are reinforced.

Enter an external, or independent, facilitator. Their role is to break that pattern of thinking and feed-back so as different patterns might emerge.

And how do we do that? Well, I know how *I* do that, and I’m wondering what *you* would do?

What to do when you don’t know what to do?

I’m reminded, yet again, of the power of preparation over planning. During these last couple of weeks I’ve had to draw on all of my understanding of groups, capacity to analyse what’s happening and why, knowledge of process, ability to improvise and respond to what’s actually happening (compared with what I hoped might or should happen), and self confidence. Phew! No wonder I’m whacked!

And while this was an extreme case, EVERY facilitation job requires us to draw on these capacities to a greater or lesser extent. I believe my time is better spent building my own capacity rather than trying to predict what the group may or may not do and how I may or may not respond. The key, I think is trust. Trusting yourself that you WILL know what to do when a situation emerges.

Yes, it’s stressful at times. Who wouldn’t prefer to know what’s going to happen next? My experience of facilitating, and life, is that it’s somewhat tricky to try and predict what’s going to happen. I learnt at the Applied Improv Conference earlier this year in Portland about amygdala hijacks (which someone wittily described as *not* a cocktail). When threatened with uncertainty or unfairness or any other dodgy situation, the higher functioning parts of the brain shut down and the primitive brain takes over. This is not so good because the options are limited to flight or fright. Not a good look for a facilitator! The interesting thing for me is that we can TRAIN OURSELVES TO AVOID amygdala hijacks. Improv does this by putting us into situations that could cause an amygdala hijack – and we train our brain to stay functioning at a higher level. I also think trusting oneself and allowing process to emerge while facilitating is another form of brain training. It certainly has got easier for me over time.

And another thing that helps [me] is frameworks. Not everyone likes frameworks. I find them useful as a compass to help me understand what’s going on. The week before flying to India to facilitate a five-day event I decided to immerse myself in Theory U. I spoke with many wonderful people who helped me understand the theory, and to others who helped me explore how to apply it. While I didn’t consciously apply Theory U, it was there in the background and one aspect became critical on the last day.

While researching Theory U the following resonated:

• What does it mean to act in the world and not on the world?
• Leading from the future as it emerges
• The shadow side of the process

Theory U describes (in brief) a process of moving from sensing, to presencing, and finally realising. there’s lots more, of course, but that’s the essence.  So while I watched the group move thorough cycles of sensing, presencing and realising I also observed the shadow: judgment, cynicism and fear. Naming this on the final day was something I could contribute that I certainly hadn’t planned on. There were many nods of recognition as I described these shadows that thwart our best efforts to learn and improve. This is just one example of drawing on one framework to help a group move through the ‘groan zone’.

I’d be interested to hear what capacities you draw on when faced with not knowing, a potential amygdala hijack and high stakes to ‘perform’.

PS: Something else – the single most important thing I was reminded of was to do nothing. To not react, to simply observe, to allow whatever has to play out to, well, play out. And believe me, this is way harder than doing something!

Friends and community

This last week I was reminded just how valuable friends and community are, especially for those of us who (mostly) work alone.

I was in India. Chennai. A city of some million people. I asked one of the Indian participants the population of Chennai. To be fair, he wasn’t from there, and his answer was, “Maybe 5 million. Or it could be 10 million. Not sure.” I pointed out that that was a 5 million difference. He shrugged, and smiled. I guess that’s how you feel about population when you come from a country that has 1,140,000,000+ people.

I was facilitating a five-day workshop with numbers varying from 80+ people to around 30. Participants came from around the world. Some were fresh and enthusiastic. Others were tired and jaded. This made for some interesting dynamics! The expectations also varied widely with lots of factions and interest groups jockying for position. While this kept me busy trying to juggle all these expectations, I was also on high alert watching for offers and noticing without judging – harder than it sounds!

Even though I was surrounded by people, many of whom I had met before, it was a bit lonely. I couldn’t download all of my thoughts to anyone, so my computer and my friends that live in it became a lifeline to sanity, to laughs, to reality and to some bloody good advice. So to my friends on skype, on Facebook, on ning and on email – a heartfelt thank you.

What clients really want from improv

There’s a tremendous hunger in organisations for individuals to be seen and to have the skills to communicate what they’re passionate about.

One of the workshops I attended at the Improv Conference was an interview with three clients who currently use improv within their organisations and the On Your Feet folk who provide the applied improv. The clients were from Nike, Intel and the Oregon Public Service.

We heard about the challenges that the clients face in introducing improv in their organisations and in getting buy-in from senior management and participants, particularly if their backgrounds and work are largely science/engineering focused. The tricky bit is demonstrating the value of improv in advance, hence the importance of starting with a relationship.

“Get yourself out there – find a trusted partner who knows your work and will get you a foot in the door. Try a pilot with a handful of people.”

Once you’ve delivered something you can start collecting data to demonstrate value: ask people how they applied what they learnt, capture anecdotal evidence, before and after stories – and don’t underestimate the value of your web site.

“Executives often process information and make judgment based on visiting the web site of the improv provider to see who else they have worked with.”

On Your Feet sometimes do before and after scenario measurement. They provide three situations and ask participants six weeks before the workshop how they would deal with them. Then they ask them the same question about the same scenarios six weeks after. The results and compared and analysed, providing valuable information for the client and OYF.

“You can get away with anything once. It’s about getting a return engagement.”

To get internal buy-in clients will tie the improv to whatever big initiative is current, especially when competing internally for funding. So it’s useful for providers to know what the big initiatives are and provide a clear tie-in.

And what about the nay-sayers and skeptics? It’s important to recognise the differences in the audience, listen to them and acknowledge that everything won’t work for everyone. Strategically, it’s useful to do pre-interviews with known skeptics and be prepared to use the organisational language and situations.

One of my own tactics for dealing with skeptics is to make sure that whatever they are doing in a workshop is tied to an actual situation they have to deal with in the workplace. This starts to build confidence that this ’stuff’ might even be useful!

People in organisations are often passionate about what they are doing – even if it seems mundane to others. They will try and innovate and do their best no matter what their role is. They like to be acknowledged – don’t we all? They want to share what they know and learn from others. It’s part of what makes us human. Improv can build the confidence and communication skills for even the most introverted to communicate with others (don’t I know it!). Individuals in organisations want to be seen and heard.

“And it’s valuable to get people just to laugh and enjoy themselves.”

Nancy White in Australia

One of the joys of blogging is ‘meeting’ people who challenge, inspire and are creative. Nancy White is one of those people and one day we WILL meet, face-to-face.

But not this November.

While I’m in Nancy’s home territory – the Pacific North West of the USA – Nancy will be visiting Australia and conducting a series of workshops.

If you are reading this and you are in Australia in November – unlike me! – please take advantage of this opportunity to meet Nancy and learn from her amazing work. Oh, and say hello from me.

The pic is of Columbia River Gorge taken just a few days ago.

A glimpse of Myanmar

The drive from the airport to hotel in a new country always leaves a lasting impression. I think it’s a combo of relief that the flight and usually tedious immigration and customs formalities are over, and being met by a smiling stranger who immediately becomes my newest best friend.

In this case it was early morning. Saturday. There were people everywhere, walking along the street edges, piled into small buses, children’s faces peering through the spaces where windows would normally be. Clouds were broiling, bringing the last of the wet season rains. It was hot and steamy.

I was in Yangon, Myanmar (or Rangoon, Burma) to help facilitate a workshop for an NGO. My departure from Australia coincided with a renewed campaign by the Burma Campaign for Australians to cut tourist and trade links with Burma in line with Government sanctions because of human rights abuses. It appears to be a straightforward decision – to go or not. I think it’s more complex. I tend to be more in favour of engaging than isolation – and I think the locals can benefit enormously from exposure to tourists, and sorely needed direct income.

The Shwe Dagon Pagoda (the Golden Pagoda) dominates the skyline. Here’s some numbers: it occupies over 5 hectares, is 2500 years old according to legend, and entered history via the date of an inscription near the top of the eastern stairway in 1485. The main stupa is completely covered in gold, and at the very top of the spire is the diamond orb – a hollow gold sphere studded with 4351 diamonds totalling 1800 carats. On the very tip rests a single, 76-carat diamond.

My arrival in Myanmar coincided with a Buddhist Holy Day, hence the vast numbers of people making their way to the temple. When I visited the following day there were still many reminders of the previous day’s festivities. The number of smaller stupas, pavilions and shrines is mind boggling – certainly too much to take in in a single visit. I found myself unable to stop staring at the main stupa. As the sun set it took on different hues and was truly spectacular against the night sky. On a practical note, I was glad to visit later in the day when it was more comfortable to walk on the marble surfaces in bare feet. A mat encircles the main stupa for visitors whose feet need protecting from the hot white marble surfaces during the heat of the day.

I also visited the Bogyoke Market – surprisingly high quality art, lots and lots of gemstones at ridiculously reasonable prices and exquisite lacquer ware. I loved the way the store holders would accept payment in US dollars and then whack their other goods with the notes – to bring good luck and further sales!

But most of my time in Yangon was spent inside a barely adequate meeting room with about 30+ people, dealing with vastly different expectations of strategic planning, and using processes as diverse as World Cafe and sociometry (which revealed two birthdays to celebrate during the workshop) to using the Story Spine and Visual Explorer – all new tools and processes for the participants, who it’s probably fair to say probably expected a more familiar, ‘chalk and talk’ approach with powerpoint presentations.

An additional day, focused just on change and conflict was a surprise, but enabled me to practice what I preach, namely, to improvise! I’ll be forever grateful to the woman at the hotel who, on being unable to find any tennis balls for me to use in a juggling exercise, presented me with a jug full of ping-pong balls. Perfect!

It was exhausting (not helped by a dose of food poisoning on the last day that left me feverish, wrung out and nauseous) and rewarding all at once. As always, the good will of the participants and their willingness to try just about anything was a highlight – even if one participant observed that my activities meant it was hard to keep his longyi on and next time he’d wear trousers!

Vote for our manifesto. Please.

We (that’s Anne Pattillo and I) have been playing with manifesto writing. We put in a proposal to ChangeThis to write a manifesto about facilitation. We noticed that no-one had done it yet.

ChangeThis challenges the way ideas are created and spread, and is on a mission to spread important ideas and change minds.

We need people like you to vote for our proposal. Please. Before October 14. If we get enough votes we’ll be invited to write it.

You can read our proposal and vote for it here. Thanks.

Riding a dead horse

Hat tip to Dave Pollard

This is one of my favourite sayings in workshops (for some reason I seem to find people riding dead horses quite often!) so I was pleased to read this:

The tribal wisdom of the Dakota Indians, passed down from generation to generation, says that when you discover that you are riding a dead horse, the best strategy is to dismount. In the public service, however, a whole range of far more advanced strategies is often employed, such as:

1. Change riders.

2. Buy a stronger whip.

3. Do nothing: “This is the way we have always ridden dead horses”.

4. Visit other countries to see how they ride dead horses.

5. Perform a productivity study to see if lighter riders improve the dead horse’s performance.

6. Hire a contractor to ride the dead horse.

7. Harness several dead horses together in an attempt to increase the speed.

8. Provide additional funding and/or training to increase the dead horse’s performance.

9. Appoint a committee to study the horse and assess how dead it actually is.

10. Re-classify the dead horse as “living-impaired”.

11. Develop a Strategic Plan for the management of dead horses.

12. Rewrite the expected performance requirements for all horses.

13. Modify existing standards to include dead horses.

14. Declare that, as the dead horse does not have to be fed, it is less costly, carries lower overheads, and therefore contributes substantially more to the bottom line than many other horses.

15. Promote the dead horse to a supervisory position.

16. (added by another commenter) Issue Collateralized Horse Obligations