INTEGRITY

INTEGRITY

His cowboy hat tilted forward to block the rain, soaked oilskin jacket dripping with water, a taught lead rope with a very unhappy BLM (Bureau of Land Management) burro clipped to the end begrudgingly following.  This image of Paul Smith leading Hercules, the burro, back to his pasture on a stormy Arizona night embodies the critical importance of having a support system.  We, the participants and faculty of a Prescott College equine-assisted learning intensive, peered from the doorway of the bunkhouse to witness the scene.   Paul was part of Herc’s support team.  He took care of this stubborn burro, literally dragging him back to a secure area where he would be free from the threat of bears, coyotes, and other horse-eating predators.  

Zooming an imaginary camera lens outward to capture a wider scene, the group of eight of us in the bunkhouse that night was also part of our own support team.  We’d travelled from all over the country, east coast, west coast, and parts in between to gather for one of our four annual intensives.  Joined together by our love of equine-assisted services, desire to practice and improve our skills, coming with a willingness to be vulnerable together.

Support teams can not only keep you physically safe (I’ve been grateful for this kind of help a time or two), but they can also be there for your emotional, spiritual, and psychological support.  Often humans and human systems are predicated on a zero-sum game.  Meaning, one winner and one loser. The idea of winner takes all is deeply seeped in many cultures.  From sporting teams to educational bell curves that require losers in order to declare winners. 

My personal educational experience in my master’s degree and Ph.D. programs were competency-based, meaning we were each individually responsible for our educational outcomes.  My master’s brought together adult learners in management and leadership roles from around the world to a Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT) classroom in Rochester, New York.  A diverse group of individuals which included a former freedom fighter and now educator from Croatia, Nina, a casino pit boss and former Olympic luge runner from New York, Peter, as well as Annie and I from Frankenmuth Michigan and a cast of another eight characters. 

During our two weeks of torture and euphoria at RIT, our group of twelve people became a high-performance team. As a high-performance team we shared leadership roles, had both individual and mutual accountability, and we learned to use the dialogic process as a method for deeper understanding.  We were profoundly committed to one another’s personal growth, often putting the group’s success ahead of our own. We helped each other through it all, balancing the work required by looking at individual workloads, skills, and personal goals. 

One testament to this process was when we learned our lead facilitator, Dr. Dick Marecki, was concerned about Nina’s lack of participation in class.  She was from Croatia, not confident about speaking English.  Often during class, because of our own enthusiasm, we would not even notice she hadn’t shared a thought or asked a question. 

Once the faculty brought to our attention the shared goal of inviting participation for all, Annie and I strategized on the best way to accomplish this objective. We concluded that it would be best if we approached Nina in between class, sharing our reasoning with her and offering support.   To help Nina and for the entire group’s success, we asked her if it would be all right to put her on the spot in class.  If one of us noticed she hadn’t participated, would it be okay to directly ask her, “Nina, what do you think?”  Being that straightforward, personal, and honest with a virtual stranger was scary!  Taking the risk of possibly hurting her feelings with our question was overridden by our collective desire for successful learning by the entire team. 

Supporting the success of another is a choice.  By acknowledging that we accomplish little of any significance on our own, we’re willing to compromise, negotiate, and explore alternative futures.  Healthy teams and organizations look out for each other and do their best to support each other’s success. Members are accountable for doing so and such teams eliminate those who do not help. The lack of such accountability, such as contracting agreements,  is why many teams and organizations are not as successful as they could be.

Support systems remind us that whatever dysfunctional behavior we may exhibit, we can choose something more useful. Healthy team members contract with each other to consistently and proactively help each other accomplish the work each must do. They assist individuals in owning their choices regarding their behavior, emotions, thoughts, and belief systems.

Paul was self-assured that he knew the safest choice for Hercules.  One of the bits of wisdom he would often share related to the life and death choices we accept when a person decides to care for animals.  He’d say, “if you’re going to have live animals, then accept the fact that you’re going to have dead animals.” A pretty sobering statement.

This mantra is true not just for living, breathing animals, it’s also true for ideas.  We humans breathe life into ideas, aspirations, and dreams.  One use of our energy, our personal power, is to influence others. How effective we are in influencing others is proportional to building the support we need to accomplish our goals, in both our professional and our personal lives.

A key to developing and sustaining successful support systems is to stay curious.  We need to build support systems of people, who in their various roles, will add their energy to our own when our own is insufficient to accomplish our goals. Building such support requires us to use our personal power and energy to attain the agreement—tacit or explicit—of others to use their energy on behalf of our goals. That’s influence.

I Imagine the various groups of humans as if they were all ropes, or threads, or other pieces of twine twisted together creating a lifeline.  Some are longer than others.  Some are thick, with many life experiences, and strong because of the shared time and overcoming conflict.  Others have gaps, where they have come and gone.  In each case, the ties that bind have helped me gain perspective, held me accountable, and supported me in reframing experiences that no longer serve.  Your best self emerges when you surround yourself with people that you trust, vulnerably inviting your authentic self into the space with them. 

Recall a time when you reached out to your support teams.  Who is part of that group?  Identify the conditions that enabled you to request support.

What aspects of your life boost your self-assurance?

Is there a future goal you are working on to achieve where additional support could make the situation better?  What can you proactively do now to make that more likely to happen? 

RESONANCE

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?  

COMPASSION

COMPASSION

Wanda was listening to a Christian radio show called Focus on the Family, when someone was being interviewed from Crystal Peaks Ranch in Oregon.  They described the work they did with rescued horses and troubled kids.  How the work with horses changed lives.  This sparked in her a curiosity, so she googled about horses, changed lives, etc. This search opened the door to learning about the wonderful world of EAL.  She told her husband, Mundo, about it, then set out to find out more.

On the search to find a place where Mundo could go to get trained or certified in the EAL field, they came across numerous options which ranged from being very new age to scholarly.  Their focus first went to Spain.  Mundo decided to call since the training would be in Spanish.  The woman in Spain spoke to Mundo, suggesting he visit a center closer to home before committing to engage in her training. 

Nana’s search also revealed that Kaleidoscope was an option.  She suggested it to him because of the scholarly approach.  The information on the KLC website matched Mundo’s graduate studies which focused on business consulting.  Also, the fact that Kaleidoscope was in Michigan gave them a chance to visit Mundo’s cousin who lived near Detroit.

I received a phone call from a man with a very thick Spanish accent inquiring about my training.  While I didn’t offer a certification program, I was always willing to support people interested in learning more about EAL.  I shared anything – the good, the bad, and the ugly with the premise that they couldn’t replicate my work because we came from different life experiences, backgrounds, learning styles, etc. 

He told me he was Dr. Edmundo Jimenez from Puerto Rico and he and his wife wanted to come to Michigan to learn about EAL.  He explained that he showed Paso Fino horses and had recently learned about how horses could help people.  He was an organizational business consultant, with his own consulting business, InBusiness for Team Development, Inc.   He reasoned it might be a good match to bring his love of horses into his business and was eager to learn more about EAL. 

I emailed him a proposed training with the following outcomes:

-Explore industry definitions, standards, and guidelines

-Identify core elements of a skilled EAL Facilitator

-Self exploration and assessment -gap analysis of skills and talents

-Practice EAL facilitation, peer review, and feedback

-Networking with other industry professionals

-Increase awareness of the components of a learner-centered EAL program

He and his wife, Nana, agreed so I reached out to six other people who had also expressed interest in learning more about running an EAL business.  I offered to only charge Mundo and Nana for any out-of-pocket expenses. The opportunity to develop a collaborative partnership with a fellow EAL provider in Puerto Rico was exciting! 

It turned out Nana was afraid of horses, so she was just joining to support Mundo and learn the business side of the process.  She actively participated in all the non-horse dialogues and exercises, though when it came to working with the horses, she mostly observed.  Gradually, we all witnessed her getting more comfortable with our four-legged facilitators.  She moved from the edge of the arena, to nearer the horse work, getting closer and closer to our equine partners. By the third day when she was invited to lead Minnie, she responded with a tentative “yes”.

Mundo was beyond excited when she finally felt comfortable enough to actively work with the horses.  This was a significant breakthrough for two reasons.  One, she would no longer be just behind-the-scenes with their farm.  This new awakening potentially opened a door to her more active participating in the equine work.  As equally important, was the revelation of how transformational partnering with horses can be for individuals to overcome limiting beliefs.  Her conquering her fear of horses was an “Aha moment” that she told me became a game changer for their business, The Equus of Puerto Rico.   

After his experience in Michigan, Mundo, Nana and I kept in touch with them wanting me to come to PR to introduce EAL to their community.  Their farm was under construction, so they planned a “Deminar” at a neighboring barn. 

I’d never been to PR, so I made my usual arrangements for people to take care of kids, dogs, and horses then jumped on a plane headed to the island.  They invited me to stay in their home, which made the experience even more special.

The first stop on my PR tour was to observe Mundo in action as an organizational consultant.  Nana and I entered a large auditorium filled with people, mostly men, in business attire.  Mundo was at the front of the room on a stage in front of a very large video screen.  He was wearing a microphone and gesturing actively to the audience. Nana and I made our way to the back of the room where she could whisper English to me, interpreting Mundo’s presentation. 

It was wonderful watching him, his dynamic personality shown brightly as he strutted across the stage, changing the pitch in his voice from a whisper to shouting, captivating his audience.

Following the presentation we spent the day touring the island.  They took me to their favorite out-of-the-way restaurant for mofongo (mashed plantains) and an actual coconut with a straw to drink coconut water.  We toured old San Juan, the Castillo San Filipe de Morro (16th century citadel built by the Spanish) and the San Cristobal Castle (largest Spanish fort in the new world). 

The next day was the Deminar.  They invited twelve people, a mixture of men and women, to participate.  Because I only speak English and they also spoke English, we began in my primary language.  Questions in Spanish would fill the air, with Nana stepping in to explain to me what was being asked. 

We discovered during the first debriefing that it was best for them to share their thoughts in Spanish, their natural tongue, rather than try to translate it for me into English.  Important feelings, emotions, and subtle nuances got lost in translation.  So, we reversed our approach with most of the conversation now in Spanish, Nana again interpreting for me.  The speed, enthusiasm, and energy with which they could share ideas in their native language was significantly different than when they were asked to speak English.

The language of Equus though isn’t Spanish or English – it’s Universal.  The equine experiences offered insights for all the participants. 

The friendship between Nana, Mundo, and I grew.  Mundo attended the EAL Post-Masters program in Prescott Arizona four times the next year to further enhance his learning.  He developed a deep friendship with Paul Smith and Pam McPhee, which led to them also visiting PR.  Additionally, the Experiential Training and Development Alliance, a group the three (Pam, Paul, and I) of us belong to, participated in a service project on their farm to help them recover following the horrific damage from hurricane Maria. 

To this day, 2025, we continue to seek ways to come together to share our passion of horses helping humans.  It all started with a compassionate person from Oregon rescuing horses to help troubled kids and a person listening to that story on the radio.  Our collaborative efforts have positively impacted hundreds, if not thousands, of lives. 

Have you noticed or tracked the ripple effect of an action of compassion in your life?  What was it?

Can you identify another possible compassionate action that you could take today that may or may not have far reaching effects?

Is there a way in the future to determine the impacts of the choice you made?  Can you take additional actions to increase its reach and positive power?     

BLINDSPOT

BLINDSPOTS

Sitting in white plastic stackable chairs in a garage area attached to the horses’ stalls, we exchange small talk about the weather, children, and our plans for the coming weekend.  Above the concrete floor, shelves are filled with horse stuff, bags of Purina miniature horse and pony feed, tubs of supplements, buckets, a hose, plus a variety of toys and tools. 

We’ve been hired by Stephanie, an insurance company manager.  She and her therapist husband also offer equine-assisted services.  She asked us to deliver this program for her “real job” because she recognized her department was struggling with communication issues, creating conflict among her team members.

She’d invited us to her farm where they raise miniature horses.  Amber and I, along with five other women, were waiting for the final team member, George, to join us.  The ladies, ranging in age from 20’s to early 50’s were fashionably dressed.  Most are wearing colored cowboy boots and puffy coats.  From the deep sighs, to fidgeting and noticeable frustration, one could feel the tension as the start time slowly ticked further away. 

George hurriedly made his entrance and apologized profusely to the group.  He awkwardly plops down in the remaining open chair, then ran his fingers through his unruly hair.  The people seated who have been waiting for him sort of politely murmured back, then all turned to look at Amber and me.  We take their cue, welcoming everyone to the team development program, thanking Stephanie for inviting us to share her lovely farm.  We emphasized how much we appreciated her trusting us to be able to help them reach their communication goals.

Following our opening sequence of meet & greet and horse safety, we move into the next bit which is an introduction to Peter Senge’s Ladder of Inference.  His work informs us that we live in a world of self-generating beliefs which remain largely untested. We adopt those beliefs because they are based on conclusions, which are inferred from what we observe, plus our past experience. Our ability to achieve the results we truly desire is eroded by our feelings that:

• Our beliefs are the truth.

• The truth is obvious.

• Our beliefs are based on real data.

• The data we select are the real data

It’s one of my favorite tools to help visually represent that people find evidence to support what they’ve already decided. Below is part of the handout we shared. Climb the ladder with me, like we did with our six group members:

1)      The meeting was called at 9:00 a.m.  John didn’t arrive until 9:30 a.m. and he didn’t say why.

2)      John knew exactly when the meeting was to start.  He deliberately came in late.

3)      John always comes in late.

4)      We can’t count on John. He’s unreliable. 

After reading this first example one could hear a pin drop!  Why?  Because we had just experienced this exact scenario with George arriving late.  Each of the team members swiveled their heads, looking left and right at each other.  Did they just climb the ladder?  Let’s unpack this…

·        Did they start with observable data?   Yes, George arrived late.

·        Did they select some details about George’s behavior?  Maybe he’d seemed to be uncomfortable and somewhat flustered.

·        Did they add their own meaning?  Could they have reminded themselves of other times George was late?

·        Did they move to assumptions that George didn’t care that he was late?  He didn’t explain WHY he was late.  To be fair, nobody bothered to ask him either.

·        Did they then reach the “logical” conclusion that George isn’t a team player and he’s the reason they have communication problems.  Heck, maybe the whole reason Stephanie is requiring them to take a day off from work to spend time on better communication is all because of George’s behavior.

Amber and I look at each other, smiling, silently agreeing “let’s move into this”.  We modelled the healthy behavior of getting curious by asking,

“We just shared a similar experience, with George’s late arrival.  Did any of you climb the ladder?”

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Stephanie spoke up, admitting that she did. The remaining group members nod their heads affirmatively, sheepishly admitting that they did too.  George is their tech guy, so he explained that there was an emergency that needed his attention.  One of the participants lowered her head, commenting that she’s sorry she judged him, assuming he was late because he didn’t care about the rest of the team.   

Kim then asks, “George why were you late this time?”  Notice the “this time” added to the question.  The addition of calling out that there were past experiences with George attending late tells Amber and I that there is more to this story.  George doesn’t verbally respond to the “this time” part of the question, though he shrinks down a little in his chair making himself smaller.  He then explains,

“I know how important this day is to you, Stephanie.  You’ve been excited and talking about it since you first scheduled it for us.  It’s just that if I didn’t solve this server problem this morning we’d have bigger problems when we returned from the training.  I had to make a decision in the moment.  I’m sorry to have let you all down.” 

The ladder of influence affects all our decisions.  It all seems so reasonable, happening so quickly, that we aren’t even aware we’ve climbed the ladder.  Because it takes place in our head, the process is not visible to anyone else, unless we make it so.  Neuroscience tells us that the more we follow a decision-making pathway in our head, the deeper the groove or neuropathway becomes in our brains, so the more we believe what we’ve already decided.  The only way to reroute this “truth” is through inquiry, staying present, and considering other options. 

“Okay, then,” I say, standing up, shifting the focus away from this awkward conversation.  “It’s time to see what our horse partners can teach us.”  For this next activity we invite each of you to catch and halter a horse, without talking, then lead your horse for a while. Think of this as a whole group activity.  I encourage you to expand your definition of success beyond your individual goal of getting a horse haltered.” 

The energy in the group feels more inclusive, with all six of the participants, including George, moving toward the pasture where a herd of seven miniature horses wait.  As we walk outside, Amber and I excitedly whisper to each other in anticipation that the horses are going to help us explore their relationships further.

Before walking through the gate, each individual grabs a halter from us, then enters the pen.  The horses all rush toward the people to see if they have any treats for them. We imposed a “not talking without a consequence rule” so the people shuffle around, sorting out who will take what horse, by pointing and motioning to each other.  Once each person identifies which horse they are going to halter the participants are in various stages of trying to put the halter over the ears, buckle the chinstrap, and figuring out which part of the halter goes where. 

George is having the most trouble.  He can’t seem to find the top of the halter and every time he tries to put it on his horses’ head the black and white pinto pony walks away.  Everyone else is so busy with their own horses that they aren’t paying attention to George.  Amber and I whisper to each other that this scenario is just like this morning.  George is on his own, with nobody noticing that he’s struggling.

I raise my hand, inviting everyone to stop what they are doing.  Then, facing the group, I ask,

“Hey everyone, this is a good point to notice what’s happening.  Are you successful?” 

The five people standing with horses haltered all nod an affirmative “yes”.  George is standing absently holding his halter, while the pinto is on the other side of the pen. 

Amber asks, “So your definition of success was each of you reaching your individual goal, not all the group members accomplishing the task?”

The ladies look around, discovering what they hadn’t noticed earlier, that George and his horse weren’t even near each other.  One can almost hear the “Awe Sh*t” when they realize the group left George on his own, that they had not offered him support. 

Amber’s question opened the door for rich discovery of ways they can transfer this learning experience back to their office.  Stephanie, seizing the opportunity, moved to the front of the group. She suggested we walk back to the garage space to start capturing the lessons learned on a flip chart, creating a list of new best practices to take back to the office.   

Share a time when you climbed the ladder.  What were your blindspots?  Why did you think you held those beliefs?

Do you currently practice staying curious and present?  What are some of the conditions that support this behavior?  How do you feel when you realize you have assumed or jumped to conclusions which may not be accurate (note: I did not write “true”, truth can be relative to the individual)

What can you do in the future to be more fully engaged in the moment?

SELF-ESTEEM

SELF-ESTEEM2

Eleven people, four women and seven men, dressed in comfortable preppy clothes of collared shirts, khakis, with a few pairs of jeans thrown in sat around a weathered wooden picnic table, the remaining people in scattered white stackable plastic chairs.  We were located on a bright green grassy area just outside the indoor arena at Whispering Pines Farm.  Stacie, Tam, and I were delivering one of our first Equine Assisted Learning (EAL) team development programs. 

The client was my former next-door neighbor, Randy.  Randy recently left an engineering career to buy a restoration franchise.  He and his business partners were willing to help us practice our program model; in part because I was willing to provide the workshop free of charge.  Our relationship, built on years of trust and shared experiences, helped support his willingness to test out this un-proven “horse stuff”.       

Randy and I became good friends when I lived next door to him with my now ex-husband, Bill, and our two girls.  Our two families, his wife Chris and their twin sons, spent time swimming in their pool, trick or treating together, and playing games such as euchre and dominos.  We lived through a category 5 tornado together, with both families experiencing life-changing consequences.  The wake-up call of the tornado ultimately led to me file for a divorce; while Randy left a successful engineering career to purchase the franchise.  His decision ultimately led to Chris divorcing him because of the insecurity of the franchise opportunity, as well as the extra pressure on their marriage.   

Following the tornado, yet before the marital separations, Randy and I shared many meaningful conversations during the two years I was completing my master’s degree.  We were both deeply invested in learning how successful businesses were created and maintained, especially small businesses.  Once I graduated with my Ph.D., found The Alchemist, and Stacie, the friendship between Randy and I created a safe place for me to test out our corporate programs.  I felt confident that the feedback from his people could help guide us to design experiences that would enhance their self-awareness, as well as their business culture.     

Stacie and I crafted what we thought would be the best program design to meet Randy’s objectives.  We began with a pre-assessment questionnaire.  The four-question survey asked each person about their best day, worst day, what they would like to get of a team building experience, and a question that asked about something their co-workers would not know about them.  I copied and pasted all the info, sharing the results with the group. 

The two opening questions provided information about the organization’s culture.  We gleaned from this that they liked to be productive, they expressed that it was important for them to work together as a team, a “best day” meant they felt appreciated, and that people had a positive attitude.  Worst day descriptions were the opposite.  A worst day meant that customers weren’t happy, the feeling of being unproductive, and the lack of teamwork. 

The last question intentionally shifted the energy from the cognitive, or in your head, to something fun and engaging.  For example, Randy shared, “In my 10th grade I was carried out of a high school dance due to over intoxication.  As you can imagine I was cheerfully greeted by my parents outside!”  For us, an owner boasting to his employees about intoxication in 10th grade gave us another hint to their organizational culture.

With Phancy and Al, our two young Egyptian Arabian geldings, athletically trotting around the arena, we explained Billiards to the group.  First things first, there would be a consequence if someone talked.  After a spirited discussion, they all agreed the consequence to talking would be to remove an article of clothing.  We probed the decision, confirming that the consequence would be done here and now, could be done multiple times, and would only be imposed on the rule breaker. 

The competitive sales culture that ruled this organization, established by the entrepreneurial male business partners, clearly dominated the decision.  Their high self-esteem and confidence over-road any other suggestions made by the less forceful members of the group.  Stacie and I realized that we could “trust the process” when it came to building activities.  We recognized that day, early in our EAL journey, that people will show you who they are by the choices they make, as well as their method of choice making.       

Now that the consequence was set, we lined them up, each taking a turn to try to move one of the horses into a pvc “pocket”.  Mike ran out into the space with the horses, waving his arms, trying to turn them toward a pocket at the far end of the arena.  Phancy literally galloped one way, while Al took off in the opposite direction, kicking up his heals as he went. 

Stacie shouted out to Mike to be watchful of those hooves, and Mike replied, “I’ve got this!” His verbal response, Stacie reminded him, required him to take off a piece of clothing.  He removed his jacket, tossing it towards the line of waiting fellow team members standing between two buckets filled with water. 

I hollered time.  Mike ran to get back in line, while the second person, Kelly, more quietly moved into the space with the horses.  Al, sensing his opportunity, squared up, then started to pee. He created quite a large steaming puddle in the sand.  Kelly avoided the smelly urine, choosing to try to get Phancy into the nearest pocket. 

Kelly’s time up, it was now Rod’s turn.  Before leaving the line, I caught Rod talking to Randy, strategizing about how best to use his turn.  I reminded him that because he had talked, he’d have to remove an article of clothing.  Not wearing a jacket, he chose to remove a shoe.  Running in one shoe and one white athletic sock, Rod headed toward the horses, forgetting about the pee pile.  He splashed smack dab in the center of it, sending a cascade of urine in every direction.  Rod’s peers openly laughed, pointing at his yellow drippy urine-soaked sock. 

Undaunted by the soaking wet sock, Rod continued to chase the horses.  The boys, Phancy and Al, were again responding to this high energy, running, bucking, and kicking in the air.  I turned to Stacie and Tam, sensing this was getting out of control, asking my equine specialists if we should call the activity.  They agreed, so Stacie stepped forward, held her hands up, getting the attention of everyone.  The minute her hands went up, Rod stopped running and so did the horses.  Now, with everyone calm, she told them we had enough info to learn from the experience.  A few grumbles could be heard from the people who hadn’t gotten a turn yet; while the group moved toward the plates of food Tam was finishing putting out. 

People spread out over the yard, sitting in pairs and small groups, all chatting about the morning’s activities.  After about a half-hour, when everyone had thrown their empty plates in the garbage, we invited the group to circle up to debrief.  They openly shared how much they learned about themselves and their co-workers.  They told us how fun it was, especially watching Rod run through horse pee – something none of us could have imagined would be a highlight of the experience! 

Two weeks following our team building with the horses, we asked them to complete a survey to learn what changed, what stayed with them, and the impact of their EAL experience.  The post-survey felt risky, and necessary, testing Stacie and my value.  We challenged our self-esteem by inquiring as to whether our assumptions about our successes were real.  Fortunately, we learned that our program design not only worked, the “interactions among the employees paralleled that of the everyday office environment”.  Bingo – now it was time to market this “horse thing” to paying clients!  

Recall a time when your self-esteem was high, so you took some risks for the first time.  What happened?  What worked successfully?

Do you apply what you learned from that experience in other situations?  If so, how?  Do you do it consciously and if so, what steps do you purposefully incorporate into your process?

In the future, where would you like to encourage your self-esteem to grow?  What actions are you going to take to help make that change happen?         

INTENTION

INTENTION2

Sara and I had each taken an online 4MATSystem® behavioral leadership assessment prior to the in-service conference in South Carolina.  We discovered that together we represented a whole brain.  In other words, Sara’s brain preferences were for quadrants two and three and mine were for quadrants one and four.  Sara liked the world of “What” and “How”.  She preferred concepts and skills, patterning, organizing, and analyzing, as well as, inquiring exploring, and problem-solving.  I, on the other hand, lived in “If” and “Why”. My preference was for adaptations and meaning, integrating and evaluating, as well as focusing and generating skills. Knowing this about ourselves helped us appreciate, understand, respect, and leverage our distinct differences.

We were fortunate to share our in-service experience with Dr. McCarthy.  Dr. McCarthy was the creator of the 4MATSystem®, a framework for organizing learning.  4MATSystem® helped learners construct their own meaning, link new information with existing knowledge, and become more actively involved in the learning process.  It made perfect sense that the Seventh Day Adventist (SDA) Carolina Teacher’s Conference would feature instructors like Abernathy and myself, both practitioners that embraced an open-ended learning model.  We each, in our own way, helped learners increase their self-awareness, then leverage that for their benefit.  

Because I earned my Ph.D. at an SDA college, I was familiar with some of their practices.  I shared with Sara that we would likely have all vegetarian meals.  Camp food and vegetarian.  Now that was going to be fun, we both mused.  What I didn’t expect was that there would not be any coffee or other caffeinated beverages available.  We discovered this when we arrived at our Y camp cabin.  Because we had a rental car, we chose to run to a local grocery store to pick up a small coffee maker and a cooler for our “contraband” non-SDA/vegetarian snacks.  Our intention was to get our non-SDA needs met, without disrespecting our hosts.      

Our smuggled goods hidden in our cabin, we headed down to the camp’s horse barn.  Vern had worked for the camp for several years.  Dressed in coveralls wearing a worn, dirty cowboy hat and boots he welcomed Sara and I to his “second home”.  Standing nearby, very uninterested in us, were several horses of different sizes, colors, and breeds.  Some had backs so swayed that there was an obvious “U” shape, indicating they were older.  On many, you could see the sweat mark outline of a western saddle.  Several of the horses had white or gray hairs mixed in with their natural color, indicating injuries or traumas, such as pressure from ill-fitting tack, cuts, or injections, that had damaged the hair follicles.  None of these observations meant the horses were abused or unloved. They were just typical camp horses. 

The teachers, superintendents, and administrative staff of this Seventh Day Adventist school system were all gathered together in the lodge to begin their “Learning from Each Other” Convention.  Following dinner, Sara and I would be introduced, to share our plan for them for the next two days.  We’d explain to them that all seventy-five of them would be divided into groups of three to four people.  Each group will be given the same instructions, though each group would not have the same experience.  The experience would be determined by how the people showed up in relationship to each other and our equine partners. We’d be observing how the horses respond to the humans choices, inquiring about the thoughts behind the behaviors.  Following the last group, we would all gather in the lodge to share the individual and group experiences, looking for themes, “aha’s, and insights transferrable back to their school environment.

We shared the Classroom Corral’s rules with the first group, quickly learning that SDA teachers are not like public school teachers.  They not only are allowed to touch their students, as a Christian school, they are encouraged to give hugs, pats on the back, and hold hands.  Many of the teachers were in buildings similar to one-room schoolhouses, with several grades sharing one teacher.  We told this first group, and the following twelve groups, that while we respected their day-to-day reality encouraged touch, for the sake of this activity we’d be sticking to our original instructions which did not. 

CLASSROOM CORRAL

For the next 45 minutes this corral is your classroom and these horses are your students.  Sara and Tracy are the administrators at your school or building.  You will have 5 minutes to plan a goal(s) with an essential outcome for your student or students and determine a consequence for breaking the rules (see below). You will then be given 30 minutes to execute your plan.  We begin class by ringing the bell and then saying the pledge of allegiance. 

Non-Negotiables (rules): 

1.                   No physically touching the students (horses).

2.                   No using halters or leadropes.

3.                   No bribing or simulating a bribe.

Freedom:

1.                   You can use any of the resources in your community (this corral).

Consequences: 

Breaking a rule requires a consequence.  You may select the consequence, which can be executed by the group or the offending individual or you may elect to accept the individual consequence developed by the administration.

The groups would rotate through with horse partners, Smokey, Leroy, and Jeb.  These geldings started out unengaged, disconnected, and very non-present.  Camp horses are expected to stay in line on the trail, nose to tail, following the horse in front of them day after day.  Basically, to shut down, robotically putting one foot in front of the other. Similar to an employee that is told to check their personal life at the factory or office door; these horses were expected to simply do their jobs. 

Vern was amazed at the transformation of his horses by the end of day one.  The horses figured out that we wanted them to be themselves in the activity, that they were rewarded for showing up and being curious.  Eyes brightened.  Ears perked up.  Each one of our four-legged facilitators was enjoying the experience of working with these humans on the ground, being asked to move through, around and over cones, pvc pipes, and pool noodles. Our intention was to help increase the humans’ self-awareness, and by virtue of our work, we showed Vern a whole new side to horses he thought he knew so well!      

One of the highlights of our time at the SDA conference was with the last group.  The administration.  They entered the horse space engaged and enthusiastic, sharing that they had heard only good things about the experiences from their teachers and staff.  They were amazing and delighted by the differences between the group experiences, excited to hear our collective debrief later that day.

As we read them the Classroom Corral rules, we noticed that our horse partners were even more interested in the nametags hanging around the necks of Robert, Renee, Ann, Pamela, and Sherry then at any other time.  Smoley, Leroy, and Jeb were not only fully present, they were literally poking their noses into the chests of our participants, lightly nipping at the dangling clear plastic nametags. When we investigated, Sara and I quickly discovered that these leaders had hidden apple pieces and carrot chunks behind the pieces of paper with their name on it.   

This was the only group that tried to cheat by bribing the horses.  The administrators’ intention was to be the best.  To “win”.  Since our goals had nothing to do with winning, or even the task, this choice of sneaking in treats for the horses really opened up some great dialogue. 

When we debriefed the equine experiences with the whole group, two major themes emerged.  One was the unexpected change in the horses’ behavior over the two days.  The participants recognized that their groups’ location in the schedule influenced whether the horses were engaged or not.  The educators bridged this occurrence with their students, recognizing how outside circumstances influence the way the children show up in their class on any given day.

The second big “aha” was the choice of the administrators to break the no bribing rule.  Their decision led to rich discussion about how and when the ends justify the means.  Sara and I helped them personally reflect on their own self-awareness, expanding the conversation from their actions to examining the larger system, such as parents, the SDA community, and the educational measurements guiding them.  We also bridged the behavior back to Dr. McCarthy’s 4MATSystem® model.  The feedback was, “You truly helped us learn from each other at this conference.” Our intention and result matched perfectly!   

Recall a time when your results exceeded your intention.  What were the conditions present in the situation?  Can you remember what your body told you about the experience?

Is there a current situation you can apply what you learned, either my exceeding or falling short of your intentions?

Are there places you can apply what you learned to future experiences?  What does that mean in terms of how you are showing up, especially if things do not go as planned?