RESONANCE
Resonance is critical to the equine-assisted services industry in many ways. One is when people co-facilitate, working together as single unit to reach the same goals for the client(s). A simple, and often-used example, is a mental health professional or educator teaming up with an equine specialist.
I’ve been blessed throughout the years to work along side some incredible co-facilitators where our “dance” together is magically in sync. We naturally weave in and out throughout our program delivery with ease. The comfort and confidence we display helps clients witness healthy team relationships. This is especially true if something doesn’t go as planned. Then, we are gifted the opportunity to show participants healthy conflict behaviors, staying curious and open, seeking to understand.
I’ve always cared deeply for the equine-assisted providers, helping them to be the best version of themselves. I believe all learning begins with self-awareness, so in order to serve their clients best, the facilitators must do their own personal growth work. In addition to joining and actively participating on committees or presenting at conferences or industry organizations; one of the ways I’ve purposefully worked to support equine-assisted services is by collaborating with other providers.
Our field, similar to many others, offers a variety of client-specific trainings. Each is meant to support individuals enhancing their abilities to help their clients. The programs range in focus from trauma-informed and other therapeutic offerings to leadership, communication, and healing programs for educators, coaches, and organizational development specialists.
Two therapist friends of mine, Trudy and Sharon, offered a training they created for kids and horses. This program used animal handling methods to monitor and report success to funders with outcome-based evaluations. Income streams are often a challenge for non-profits, which is one reason they designed and developed a way to measure outcomes.
I invited Trudy and Sharon to bring their program to Michigan. We worked out all the logistics from who was responsible for what financially and organizationally to where they would eat, sleep, and bathe after they flew in from Wisconsin. We confirmed what horses they would partner with and other details such as what equipment they needed and whose release forms we would use. A two-day agenda was agreed upon, post card invitations printed and mailed. Our efforts resulted in eleven women participants from around the country.
One of the participants was Amber, a good friend and someone I have co-facilitated with regularly. Stacie, another friend and co-facilitator acted as our horse specialist when necessary. The three of us were really looking forward to hosting this event and learning from Trudy and Sharon. It would be fun for us to not be responsible for all of the facilitation and to be participants together.
Everything was running smoothly, with Trudy and Sharon running through their agenda. Their approach was more didactic than ours, which was appropriate for the training. A didactic approach to teaching is where the information is presented from the facilitators to the participants. The classroom style material was blended with experiential equine activities.
Stacie, Amber, and I noticed a little bit of tension between the two facilitators as the first day went on. A sideway glance. Rolled eye. A shrug followed by a muffled “whatever” when one of them didn’t agree with the other. None of the other ten participants seemed to notice or pick up on the subtle conflict. The participants’ passion for new learning clouded their ability to catch the understated disagreements. I was especially tuned in, because being the only non-therapist, the actual protocol was of little interest to me.
Unbeknownst to our guests these two business partners were struggling with their relationship. I’d known both of these amazing ladies for a handful of years. First witnessing their tension when I visited their place as part of a committee to create a third-party certification. It was clear to me that they were no longer fully committed to continuing their business relationship or that they were having fun working together.
By the middle of day two, Stacie, Amber, and I were jonesing to share our thoughts with each other. We sat together for lunch with the pretext that we wanted to review the final details relating to transportation, wrapping up, and closing the event.
The three of us started talking about how grateful we were for the opportunity to work together. We recognized that over the years, each of us had experienced and/or witnessed other facilitator training teams that clearly did not get along. We reflected on the importance of working through conflict in a healthy way, modelling what we suggested for our clients. “Walking the talk” was a core value, something we held in high regard. Always speaking our truth and sharing our fears was a practice we embraced.
Amber recalled a time when we were working with a group and at a break I asked her to meet me in the mechanical room. Of course, she said yes. We excused ourselves from the group, explaining that we needed a few moments in private. We tried to make that request for privacy seem normal, nothing out of the ordinary, though it was rare for us.
We entered the room a large closet next to the restroom. Surrounded by a water heater, several file cabinets, and a corner where brooms, buckets, and mops hung I began. I shared with her that I had been triggered by what a participant said in the last activity. I explained that something about the passive aggressive way she responded to my question reminded me of what my mother, Ada, would sometimes do when she interpreted my question as an attack. I had felt a physical response, a rush of adrenaline through my body and was pretty sure my face was flushed because it felt hot.
At the time of the exchange, Amber noticed my silence, jumping in to keep things moving after my somewhat awkward pause. Now she helped me reframe the participants’ comment, so that it no longer held the emotional power it did when she first said it. Because of Amber’s skilled coaching and my self-awareness, we were able to quickly return to the group, picking up where we left off.
After reliving that story, the three of us wondered aloud whether Trudy and Sharon were conscious of their conflict or if their “way of being” had become so natural that they didn’t even notice it. We acquainted it to a troubled marriage, where each fight might be different, though the root cause was the same. It didn’t appear that our visiting facilitators were trying to drive away destructive communication and conflict patterns, replacing them with healthy, productive ones. It seemed as if they, and thankfully the participants, were completely unaware.
Stacie, Amber, and I surmised that the other participants didn’t sense any tension because they didn’t recognize the difference between good and excellent facilitation. The difficulty in the relationship between the facilitators didn’t resonate with the participants, in part, because they didn’t look for it, so it was basically invisible. Trudy and Sharon created a business, worked together for several years, and shared similar values in regards to their work. The current “falling out” was masked by their long-standing and deeply- rooted commitment to helping people partner with horses for the greater good.
Sharon gave us all a ten-minute warning, so the three of us got out the plastic wrap and containers, putting away the remaining pulled pork, baked beans, and corn bread. Amber moved the remaining cookies and brownies to the table by the coffee, making a fresh pot for our caffeine addicted friends. Meanwhile, Stacie took the overflowing trash container out to the big receptacle in the barn aisle.
We wrapped up the rest of the program, said our good-byes, hugs all around. Once all the guests left, the five of us sat comfortably around my custom built, blue-colored, kidney-shaped island munching on leftovers to review the evaluations together. Everyone was pleased with the experience. The training was called “incredibly helpful”, with comments about the expertise of the facilitators. In the reviews, the participants shared their appreciation for the facilitators’ real-life stories of partnering with other animals, such as Trudy’s dog Dinger, or Sharon’s chickens. It warmed my heart to hear the facility, food, and overall appearance of the horses exceeded the participants expectations.
Stacie, Amber, and I did not share our observations about the tensions we witnessed with Trudy and Sharon. In part, because it did not affect our mutual desired program outcomes. Also, they also didn’t ask. The three of us knew the personal drain of facilitating for two days; the emtional tole of being present for each participant, balancing that with all of the other moving parts of delivering a program. All five of us left feeling grateful to share our love of partnering with horses, helping others who will reach even more people in collaboration with these amazing four-legged facilitators.
Have you ever been triggered by someone’s behavior? How did you respond?
What did you learn from that experience and how has it served you?
In the future are there decisions you can make to reduce the potential for being triggered? What are they?