COMMUNITY
Talking over the buzz of the heaters in my indoor arena, I introduced seven elementary school teachers to our two miniature horses. Mickey and Minnie’s long shaggy coats made them appear twice as heavy, as if they were wearing puffy coats. Their chin hairs feathered well below their jaw line and the hair from their legs covered the tops of their tiny hooves. Our short “woolly mammoths” meandered around the arena, sniffing, then rolling in the dirt. For a horse, a prey animal, rolling is a sign they are feeling safe enough to show their underbelly. For us facilitators, it’s a sign the group energy is calm.
Our last activity of the day we invited the teachers, all women, to participate in an exercise called billiards. It’s called billiards because at either end of the arena are two “pockets” or boxed-in areas defined by white pvc pipes. The stated goal is to get each of the horses in these pockets. Each time a horse is in the pocket the team gets a point. The REAL goal is for my co-facilitator and I to watch the interactions, responses, and decision-making of the participants. How they work together to achieve the stated goal enables us to support them in improving their communication skills.
This experiential activity can bring to light blind spots or barriers that may be getting in the way of the group being more effective, healthy, and happy. We also pay close attention to the responses and reactions of our horse partners. What is their energy level? How are they engaged in the activity? Do they connect with the participants or try to get away from them?
We began the billiards activity by asking all the participants to create a single line. Today, we asked them to create the order by eye color, darkest to lightest, without talking. In between snickers and giggles, each person looked into the others’ eyes, then shuffled into a line. One person grabbed another by their coat and shifted someone else in front of them – clearly indicating they believed the second person’s eyes were a browner brown.
Once they were happy with their line, they turned to Stacie and I, indicating they were ready to get started. We then moved the established line nearer the arena wall between two black buckets with handles filled with water. We instructed the group that one of the rules of the activity was they were required to stay between the buckets. We explained that each person would be given a turn to leave the line, move into the area where Mickey and Minnie were wandering, then try to get a horse into a pocket without touching them. We told them that after three minutes, we would call “time” indicating the next person’s turn.
Typically, a group will start with the individual leaving the line, independently trying to get a horse into a pocket. After watching a few unsuccessful attempts by individuals, it can become clear to those further down the line that there may be other alternatives. One possibility might be inviting the group to move as a whole line with the people on each end holding the buckets. This means that they are still between the buckets, thus, not breaking the rule. We’ve witnessed groups figure this part out yet not consider emptying the water! We plant this “seed” by repeatedly reminding the group that they must stay between the buckets, even though they haven’t made any attempt to break free from them.
Person number one left the line and started chasing the horses, trying to move them toward the pockets. Mick and Min took off running, moving away from the pressure of the person chasing them. The horses ran, one behind the other, in a circle, completely avoiding the pvc piped areas at the ends of the arena. Time. Person one shrugged at the people in the line before taking her place at the end of the line. Person two left the line, picking up where her peer left off. More horse running. More dust kicked up into the air. Time. Person two gets back in line while person three runs into the horse space, continuing the same approach. After each round of being chased, Mick and Min stand still, panting, trying to catch their breath. They huff and puff, their little chests heaving in and out, with pink tongues dangling from their mouths.
Participant number four recognized the ponies are getting overworked; because she can talk without a consequence during her turn, she announces to her colleagues that she isn’t going to chase them. She tells her co-workers that she’s going to give the horses a chance to catch their breath. Time. Person five takes off from the line, running after the horses, ignoring the approach by the previous teacher. Mickey and Minnie try to find a place to stop, rather than run, but this person is in hot pursuit! The arena blowers have been running since we began, bringing the temperature in the arena to a balmy 65 degrees, even though it is near zero outside.
Let’s call person five Donna. Donna had been a teacher a long time. As stated above, when her turn came to get the horses into the pockets she chased, pushing them as much as possible. She was determined to reach the goal of horses in pockets. After watching her, Stacie and I got really concerned for our horses. We were afraid of them overheating. The heavy hair coats could lead to sweating, then chills or something worse. In light of the physical risk to the horses, I called an end to the activity, explaining to everyone we had to stop for the safety of the horses. Everyone except Donna looked relieved. Donna looked confused. The other teachers tried to gently explain to Donna that she was pushing the horses too hard. She denied doing anything wrong, explaining (justifying?) she was simply working to reach the goal imposed by the facilitators.
Let’s step away from the horse activity for a brief moment to give some context. This educational in-service training took place in the early 2000’s. A time when “No Child Left Behind” was in place. This federal educational initiative is now recognized as a failed attempt which held schools accountable for student performance. “Teaching to the test” became school culture in order to get federal funding.
Donna was just a year and a half shy of retirement. It was clear to us based on earlier conversations that she wasn’t going to risk tarnishing her retirement goal by going “soft” on kids. She’d been an elementary teacher for 30 + years and she “knew” what worked for her students. She dug her heels into what she believed mattered, goal focused, blind to any unintended consequences. Our awareness of her worldview and her earlier denial led us to believe that Donna wouldn’t acknowledge her role in stressing out and potentially harming Mickey and Minnie. So, we shifted our processing of the horse activity toward life outside the arena.
I started by inquiring about the ownership each individual has in situations where one witnesses a behavior you don’t agree is the best choice. Stace added that she wondered if anyone in the group had ever witnessed someone doing something they considered potentially harmful. If they ever thought to themselves, that’s not how I would handle the situation. All heads nodded affirmatively.
“What did you decided to do?” I inquired.
The woman in the red cowboy boots shared that she remembered a time when her fellow second grade teacher experienced a challenging situation with a student who kept disrupting class. Her peers response was to remove him from the classroom. When this teacher learned of her partner-teacher’s disciplinary action, she shared that she, too, found this particular student challenging. Boots suggested that an effective approach that worked for her was to talk to the student, helping him understand the impact of his behavior on the rest of the class. She further communicated that once he felt he had the support of his teacher, he was more willing to work on paying attention, thus his disruptions lessoned.
“Thank you for that example” Stacie said.
“Let’s unpack what the circumstances that made it comfortable enough for you to offer your advice. Would you say that you have a good relationship with the other second grade teacher?” I inquired.
“Yes, we’ve worked together for six years.” She responded.
“What words would you use to describe your relationship?” I asked.
“Trusting. We’re both focused and committed to what’s best for the kids – all the kids – you know, on the same page so to speak.” She explained.
Without naming Donna’s behavior specifically, we had invited discussion about ownership, responsibilities, and choices. The other teachers seemed aware that Donna treated her students similar to the ways she treated my horses. It was likely they all had witnessed her goal-focused behavior, regardless of the harm to her students. We wrapped up the conversation by sharing one of our favorite mantra’s, “change what you can and let the rest go.” The energy in the debriefing conversation changed, from tense to curious, when the other teachers recognized their responsibility was to focus on what they could do, not what they couldn’t.
We are all a part of a variety of communities. Recall a time when someone in your inner circle trusted your relationship enough to share with you something that was difficult to hear.
What did you learn from that exchange that impacts your life today?
Can you imagine a time in the future where the lessons learned from that exchange will be helpful?