In 2005 Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT) accepted my proposal to offer an equine-assisted learning (EAL) session for their Pluralism Conference. RIT is where I earned a master’s degree and was a faculty member for several years. Our proposal was accepted because we explained that horses respond to a person as they show up in relationship with them. They frankly don’t care if you have money, status, or a title such as CEO, President or the biggada boss. Understanding that difference is our only opportunity for learning (Michael Broom) invites infinite possibilities and curiosity. We, then, have agency and can offer the same to others, seeking to leverage the positive for mutually beneficial outcomes.
We, my equine specialist and friend, Sara and I, secured a barn and horses near the RIT main campus. A group of eight students from RIT’s National Technical Institute for the Deaf, their interpreter, and a RIT faculty member chose to spend the afternoon with us. We began the EAL experience in our standard way with “meet and greet” experiential activities for both horses and humans. Creating connection before content is a core value of Kaleidoscope’s programming.
We were in an indoor horse arena with a large open area where horses were walking, sniffing the ground, and settling into the space together. The humans are nearby, separated from the horses by a corral. The humans are invited to enter the horse’s space and greet each one however they feel comfortable. A greeting can be from a distance, just making eye contact, or close, including friendly scratches for the horses. Not only is the approach decided by each individual, we also do not prescribe anything about the exchanges, such as how long, only one person per horse at a time, etc. Our lack of specific direction allows us, as facilitators, to witness the choices made by the participants. Do they pay attention to how their actions impact others’ experiences? How do the horses respond – do they move away or toward anyone? What is the energy of the experience – is it heightened and frantic or calm and peaceful?
The second activity we invited participants to experience was “catch and halter”. The sequence of meet and greet – just being in a shared space for horses and humans - to asking something of each other, haltering, moves both beings from strangers into building relationships. One of our jobs as facilitators is to create a place where humans, who may be unfamiliar with hanging out with 1,200-pound hooved animals, get more comfortable. There’s a sweet spot creating engaged learning environments, which is just outside the comfort zone in the learning edge. Not everyone’s “edge” is the same, so there is some mastery in managing this space for all the participants.
For catch and halter, the participants were invited to halter the horses. A halter is designed to go over the horses’ ears, with the horses’ nose in the center and a snap or tie under the throat. Again, the participants were not given any specific instructions, nor were they shown the “correct” method of putting on a halter. We designed this activity to support a learning philosophy of “no right or wrong, just different”. And the students did not disappoint! Halters were put on upside down, lead ropes were clipped to the sides of the halter, instead of the bottom; truly many creative alternatives to the standard way of haltering a horse! Thankfully, our four-legged facilitators stood calmly and allowed for all sorts of learning to safely take place.
An additional element to the activity is we invited the participants to take part in haltering without talking. If they talked then they would have a consequence of their choosing. Because this was the first time we worked with a deaf population, we engaged in an open conversation about what “talking” meant. It was mutually decided that our rule meant no verbal communication or sign language would be allowed without a consequence.
Nonverbal communication is critical to all animals. While many humans may think they are primarily responding to verbal communication, significant research has shown that we instinctually and unconsciously read and react to nonverbal signals in greater proportion than the spoken word. Horses and other animals are masters at reading subtle changes in body language and other nonverbal cues. For example, a horse’s ears tell you many things about their mood, where their attention is, and in combination with their eyes they can be very expressive and interpretive. Learning to understand the subtle cues of the equine language requires focus in a way that can help people really “see what they are looking at,” inviting one to stay in the present moment.
One of the most interesting take-aways from this session was that the individual most challenged by our “no talking rule” was the student’s interpreter. She shared how she struggled with not being able to fulfill her role as a communicator for the students. Was this because more of her identity and sense of self was tied to the limitation or rule imposed?
How often do we inadvertently put ourselves in a similar situation to what the interpreter was feeling? Meaning, where do we experience limiting beliefs that get in our way of moving forward and threaten our sense of self? One of the reasons that EAL can be so powerful to human development is because we create a safe place to practice challenges, barriers, and constraints such as imposing a no talking rule. We then debrief, allowing for reflection and insight into alternative choices. This opportunity is important because, “We see the world not as it is, rather we see it as we are” (Anaïs Nin).
Each of us has abilities and disabilities, some visible and most invisible. These aspects of who we “are” constantly changes, evolves, and informs our actions both consciously and unconsciously. This is why the adage, that “actions speak louder than words” holds true. The more self-aware we become the better the chances are that we will make decisions that are congruent with our intentions.
Where does our personal power have the most impact? Eistein offers us insight… A human being is a part of the whole that we call the universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest--a kind of optical illusion of his consciousness. This illusion is a prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for only the few people nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all