DIVERSITY

DIVERSITY

After retrieving our luggage, we walked through the Dubai airport, dripping with sweat from the exhaustive heat, toward the exit doors.  Our noses were assaulted from air filled with unusual scents, turmeric, curry, cinnamon and a variety of other spices. 

We, my husband Randy and I, exited the airport doors getting hit by a wave of even hotter air (not sure how that was possible?).  We scanned the multi-cultural crowd looking for someone (had to be a man, since that’s the only people holding signs) holding a “Dr. Weber” placard.  The mostly dark-skinned men were dressed in variety of costumes.  The chatter of foreign languages was sprinkled with an occasional English that we understood. 

Off to the right of the exit was a corral, white plastic fencing with a sign in Arabic indicating its’ purpose.  Behind the fence were a group of modesty dressed women.  I turned to Randy, asking him if he noticed the segregated women, held outside the actual airport in a make-shift waiting area.  Then it dawned on me that the only women we saw inside the airport were passengers.  This was just the first of many culture shocks we would experience over the next two weeks.

I was excited to be facilitating RIT’s Customer-centric master’s course.  Each class built upon the prior course in a learner-centered design.  The course I delivered with third in the sequence, meaning the students were familiar with each other.  In the past five years, I had already successfully facilitated this course twice in the Dominican Republic and once in Rochester NY, so I was confident with my material and the course design.  The program was competency-based, meaning that assessment of knowledge and learning happened through dialogue, aka class participation, as well as papers. 

The first day of class, I entered the classroom to find all the male students on one side of the room, and all the females on the other side with a sea of open chairs in between them.  The students varied in the dress, skin color, and demeanor. 

The first day of the course happened to fall on tenth anniversary of 9-11.  The September 11 attacks, where four coordinated terrorist suicide attacks by al-Qaeda against the United States in 2001.  I thought it would be a good idea to mention the significance of the day, inviting the participants to somehow acknowledge it.  What a mistake that was! This was the FIRST day of class.  We had no relationship.  No trust.  No understanding of each other.  In my naivety, I appeared arrogant and short-sighted.  I quickly learned, by their angry response, that I knew very little, if anything, about their world and their relationship to events such as suicide bombers, war, attacks, etc. 

I backtracked and sheepishly apologized. By acknowledging my mistake and appreciating their candor and honesty, we established a classroom culture that invited authenticity.  As uncomfortable as it was, this American was just beginning to learn some of the complexities of the Middle East.

It’s happened in other classes; when the participants find out my “day job” is partnering with horses to help human development, they get curious about EAL.  After a discussion about all the aspects co-creating a brief introduction to the work, with the stipulation that every student must agree,  we determine the day, time, place, etc.     

It’s hot.  Hotter than hot.  The air is so heavy, it’s difficult to breathe.  No wind.  My husband, Randy, and I are with one of my Master’s students, Abdul.  He’s wearing a traditional Muslim white robe, an Emirati Kanduras.  Abdul is an Emerati, or upper class which is indicated by his ghutrah, a red and white checkered woven scarf atop his head. 

We’re at a farm in the middle of nowhere in Dubia.  We met the farm manager, a tall slender European woman in her mid 30’s named Ellen.  She introduced us to a young, skinny, dark-skinned man/boy named Mohammed.   She tells us she won’t be here tomorrow when we bring the students out for an EAL introduction though she’ll make sure her staff is aware of our plans.

Ellen and her helper, Mohammed, seemed to understand that I would like three horses that got along well together, at liberty in a pasture.  The only thing we’d be asking of them would be to able to put a halter on them, then possibly lead them around for a bit.  If they had a grooming box or two that we could use that would helpful, I added.  I shared with them that I wanted to keep any risks of someone getting injured super low.  My goal was to create an opportunity for the students to witness how sensitive horses are to our behaviors, as well as the significance of the congruency of our actions and intentions.  My plan was to incorporate the experience into our customer-centric curriculum, helping the participants realize the impact of their choices on any customer-related exchange.  Ellen reassured me that she understood, so Abdul, Randy, and I left confident we were all on the same page. 

After class the following day, we arrived at the farm ahead of the students.  We did find three horses at liberty in a pasture, as we had discussed.  The only problem was their heads were down munching on a huge pile of fresh green hay.  It was dinner time.  Ellen and I didn’t discuss anything about when they fed the horses.  There was no way these horses were going to be interested in interacting with people when there was yummy hay available.  Mohammed greeted us with a wide grin, indicating he had a cooler filled with cold water next to the two grooming boxes I requested.

Sweat running down my back, I wiped the drips from the side of my face, then asked him which of the horses would be the least upset if we asked him or her to leave the hay so we could lead them around the pasture.  He said, the white Arabian, Farah, wouldn’t put up much of a fuss.  So, I shifted my gameplan from a more interactive and collective activity, to a simple leading experience. 

The students started arriving, gathering around the fence to watch the hay-eating horses.  Following the horse safety talk, I answered their questions, then inquired as to whether they would all be comfortable going into the pasture with the horses.

Everyone said yes, so after signing release forms, Mohammad opened the gate.  The students milled around the horses, who were still eating their dinner, ignoring the humans.  I asked Mohammad to halter Farah, then invited the students and Farah, with Mohammad leading, over to the side of the pasture. 

One by one each student took a turn leading Farah.  Not surprisingly, the horse mirrored the behaviors of the students in our classroom.  Nima was confident, always came to class prepared, usually a knowledgeable participant in any discussion.  When it was her turn to lead, she squared her shoulders, looked forward to where she planned to go, and confidently led the horse. 

Khalifa, on the other hand, was more introverted and timid.  It took her longer to get Farah’s head off the hay pile.  Once she decided she really did want the opportunity to lead the horse, her request was clear, and Farah took one last bite then moved forward. 

Then it was Ali’s turn.  Ali was a student who always had excuses as to why he didn’t have time to complete an assignment.  He came to class unprepared, except with an excuse as to which family member needed him instead of getting his homework done.  During discussions, he’d try to buffalo his way through, though it was clear he was just sharing his opinion, not referencing the required material. 

He walked up to Farah, who was back enjoying her dinner.  He tried half-heartedly to get her to lift her head.  She kept eating.  After several pulls on the lead rope, he looked out at his classmates and declared that maybe the horse was tired, or bored, and didn’t want to walk around anymore.  The students started looking at each other, making the connections between his classroom behavior and what we just witnessed.  Ali didn’t possess the self-awareness to recognize what was happening.  He just handed me the lead, shrugged his shoulders, then walked back to the group.

It was starting to get dark, so I suggested we thank our horse partners, then circle up, grab some cold water, and finish our time together with some reflection.  Once everyone sat down, I began with “What struck you?” 

The participants shared that they were surprised at how differently the same horse reacted to each person, based on the way the person behaved.  That the horse really responded to their present situation.  This led to a rich discussion relating back to customers, acknowledging our role in any customer exchange.      

While the diversity of our cultures, experiences, language, clothing, etc. impacts certain situations more than others.  We can trust that the language of Equus is universal.  

Recall a time when you assumed another would respond in you would in a certain situation and because of their difference worldview they did not.

What can you do in your current life to begin to be open to difference. 

What kind of diversity do you wish you had more of in the future? 

TRUST

TRUST

Stacie and I invited a group of friends to an EAL practice session at Six Oaks Farm where I boarded my horses.  We both recently completed a three-day Equine Assisted Growth and Learning (EAGALA) certification.  Stacie invited two of her horse friends, Lori and Ann.  I invited my friend Deb and her 15-year old daughter, Ashely as well as the owner of Six Oaks, Joe.

I started by welcoming everyone to Joe’s amazing farm.  Joe jumped in by explaining that he’s not a horse-guy, which is why he hired a horse trainer to give lessons and live in the barn apartment.  He explained that he loves animals, which is why later this spring his two girl goats, Daisy and Buttercup, will be having kids.  The female reindeer, or cows, have also been bred.  He asked if anyone had a connection to lamas or alpaca as he’d like to add them to the farm as well. 

A rambunctious young golden retriever kept begging us to throw his tennis ball, dropping it in front of anyone who was paying attention to him.  While an orange barn cat lounged in the sun on a picnic table, with a second one snuggled in a cat bed on top of a cabinet just inside the barn door. 

After Joe’s storytelling, Stacie got us started with a warm-up activity designed to help us get to know each other better and begin building trust. 

“We’d like everyone to get to know each other a little better before we start working with the horses”, she explained.  “As you heard from Joe there are lots of animals on the farm, including a variety of horses and a donkey.  You’re invited to select an animal you identify with and share with us why you picked it.”

Deb offered to go first.  She shared that she felt the most connected with Honey, the golden retriever who was still actively pestering us to throw his ball. She shared that she had a golden at home and considered herself a life-long dog lover. 

Ashley jumped in that she too felt closest to the dog.  She continued that she really liked the horses and thought the reindeer and goats were cool, she just hasn’t had much experience with them.

Next, Lori shared that she identified with the black, white, and brown tri-color paint horse grazing in the front pasture. 

“See that pretty mare walking toward the automatic waterer” she asked.  She reminds me of my first show horse, Suzie.  I showed her up until I decided to use her as a brood mare.  I still have her and her son in my backyard stable.  Suzie is now an old lady and has Cushing’s, so I’m not sure how long she’ll be with us. 

Joe jumped in next, sharing that his favorite critter was his goat, Daisy.  Daisy followed him around like a dog.  He definitely was her “person”. 

Ann was deep in thought, apparently finding it challenging to pick an animal.  Not wanting to break her concentration, everyone patiently waited as she scanned the property clearly weighing her options. 

After several minutes, she declared, “I identify most with the flies buzzing around.  They are constantly on the move, getting into a lot of shit.  That’s what my life feels like right now.  Super busy and full of shit.”

I didn’t know what to say, so looked to Stacie to respond.  She’d been friends with Ann her whole life, both attending the same grade throughout their school years and riding horses together forever.  Stacie was also a licensed mental health professional, so I knew she was well versed in what to say that wouldn’t make Ann feel awkward or blow the situation up.  All the while, I’m thinking to myself, A fly?  Really?  What’s going on behind that choice?

Stacie calmly thanked everyone for sharing adding that we appreciated everyone’s vulnerability, completely ignoring Ann unusual response.  She invited us to our next activity which was extended appendages. 

Everyone stood up and moved toward the roundpen where my beautiful bay colored gelding, Al, waited.  An English saddle, saddle pad, and halter hung on the rails, irons dangling over the sides.   We asked for three volunteers.  Ann declared that we just wanted to observe.  Joe, Deb, and Lori told us they were game.  We invited them to decide who was going to be the “brain”, and what two people were going to be the “arms”.  The brain is the only one who can talk and they will tell the arms what to do in order to saddle Al.  We asked the three to link arms, so Deb moved to one side, Joe stayed in the middle, and Lori moved to the opposite side of Joe.       

The next twenty minutes was filled with laughter, by everyone but Ann, as the “brain” asked the “arms” to saddle Al, while he stepped sideways, making it difficult to even put on the saddle pad, let alone the saddle! 

Following a short debrief about the importance of clear communication, as well as the implications of miscommunication.  We explored the significance of each participant trusting each other to not do anything that would make the situation dangerous.  That conversation let to our acknowledging that Al didn’t bolt or get too upset, reading the positive energy of the participants.

There was time for one more activity before we would close and have lunch together.  We asked Joe, Lori and Ashley to go with Stacie who would provide them with their instructions.  Ann and Deb would stay with me, where I would tell them what their job was.  Stace whispered to her group that their job was to move Al a full circle clockwise around the arena.  You guessed it, I told my two ladies that there job was to move Al a full counterclockwise.  Once they had their instruction, we brought them all together, letting Al off his lead.

Each group raised their arms, trying to push Al in the direction they were instructed to go.  It didn’t take them long to figure out they’d been given conflicting instructions.  At this point, Lori, Joe, Deb, and Ashley figured out if they worked together, going way and then the other, both groups would meet their goals.  Ann, on the other hand, didn’t join the others. 

She declared, “This is total bullshit!  You set us up.  I’m out of here”.  Then, she stomped off and headed toward her bright blue dually with “Drafty Barn” horse magnets on the sides.  Our horse partner, Al, sensed her anger, bolting across the arena, wringing his neck out of frustration. 

I turned to Stacie, inquiring in front of the group, “Would Ann be okay and was there some damage control we should be concerned with?”

Thinking to myself, the whole fly selection in the opening activity now made more sense.  Ann must be experiencing a lot of self-doubt, feeling compelled to lash out at anything and anyone who she deemed had wronged her in some way.        

Stacie responded, “Nah, this is how she can be sometimes.  I’ll call her later and check in once she’s had a chance to settle down.” 

One could sense the rest of the group was relieved with Stacie’s response, because Ann had put on quite a show.  Since Stacie was the only person with a close connection to Ann, her abrupt departure didn’t really impact the other participants. 

We re-grouped, finishing up our day together with an activity called lie detector.  Ashely was invited to ride Al, then share with us two stories, one truthful and one lie.

During the first story she told, Al walked quietly around the arena as Stacie led him, holding the lead rope softly in her hand.  When she finished that story, Stace turned Al in the opposite direction around the arena, inviting Ash to share a second tale. 

As soon as she started talking again Al began acting up.  He swished his head back and forth; then nipped at Stacie’s hand holding the rope.  Since this was one of our first times partnering with him for an EAL session, Stacie interpreted his behavior as him being a jerk, so she sought to correct him by pulling strongly on the lead. 

When Ashely finished her second story, we asked her mom, Deb, if she could tell which one was the lie.  Deb guessed it was the first one, based on some of facts that Ashley shared.  Much to her surprise, Ash told her the lie was the second one!  Now, Al’s behavior made sense. He was reading the incongruence of Ashley’s words and the truth.  Thus, the name of the activity “lie detector”.  He could detect the disconnect, even her own mother couldn’t!         

From this day forward, Stacie and I recognized that there was no such thing as JUST a “demo” or demonstration.  The therapeutic nature of partnering with horses was always present.  That this work was incredibly powerful, tapping into the emotions and feelings of the participants, however they show up in the space.

 Recall a time when you felt your trust was betrayed, when you thought you were “set up”.   What did you do?

Think about your current relationships.  Describe the most trustworthy ones.  What is present in those relationships?

In the future, what can you do or not do to create more trust?   

SELF-ASSURANCE

SELF-ASSURANCE

His cowboy hat tilted forward to block the rain, soaked oilskin jacket dripping with water, a taught lead rope with a very unhappy donkey clipped to the end begrudgingly following.  This image of Paul Smith leading Hercules, the mule, 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 mule, 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? 

ENGAGED LEARNING

ENGAGED LEARNING

Sitting around the light oak wooden kitchen table, five participants scanned their spiral notebooks.  Each selected different colored markers to decorate the cover and add their name.  The kitchen sat adjacent to the living room, where we could see a coffee and end tables piled high with papers, folders, and other clutter.  An orange tabby cat weaved in and out of our legs, bending its’ body and rubbing on us. While a black and white tuxedo kitty lounged on the back of a couch on top of a folded crocheted brightly colored afgan.

The participants were coming together for an Individual Women’s Series.  We held it at a friend of Stacie’s, Ina, at her Happy Hallow Ranch.  Ina was intrigued by the concept of partnering with horses for personal growth.   So, we worked out an arrangement to lease her house, indoor arena, and horses to host the five evening sessions from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.  The themes for the sessions were:

            New Beginnings – Introduction to Self & Group

            Visioning – Creating Your Plan for the Future

            Setting Boundaries – The Power of Saying “No”

            Overcoming Obstacles & Barriers

            I Can, I Will, I Am

This sequence of sessions focused on investigating, understanding, and creating a personal vision statement.  We incorporated a variety of approaches designed to engage all the participants, independent of their learning styles and life experiences.  This included time for reflection, whole group dialogue, pair and share discussions, and journalling.  The workbook housed such items as a “Participants Bill of Rights”, an exercise designed to help identify values, and resources explaining how to manage complex change.        

Stacie and I began the first meeting by offering an overview of what we envisioned the program would look like each time we came together for our evening sessions.  Over light healthy snacks, we’d begin in the house with a discussion about the evening’s topic and a review of their experiences from the week prior.  After learning about each other’s insights, we’d move to the arena to partner with the horses.  The activities with the horses would build off of the discussion, focusing on the sessions’ theme.

Once everyone’s questions were answered, we bundled up, putting on hats, scarves, and gloves getting ready to brave the February Michigan weather.  We headed out into the cold, towards the unheated indoor arena where five furry horses were wandering around, sniffing and pawing the dirt.

While Andrea was still back at the house using the restroom, the four other ladies, our host Ina, and Stacie and I made small talk.  Someone asked about the horses, so Ina told the ladies about the backgrounds of her Egyptian Arabian horses.  The tallest, a mare about 15 years old, was blond in color.  Ina shared that she was a brood mare that has been part of her herd since the beginning. She mentioned that she is a real sweetheart and loves to be around people.  The second mare, who stood a little shorter, came to Ina’s herd later in life.   She’s almost twenty years old and could be really difficult to catch and halter.  The third horse was a gelding.  He was the son of the first horse.  Another “lifer” or one who has been on Ina’s farm since birth.  Horse four was another gelding, a solid black boy that Ina explained was originally part of her breeding program until she decided to geld him.  Lastly, there was a furry miniature horse that she bought when looking for a companion to an older blind mare who was no longer with us. 

When Andrea rejoined the group, I explained that similar to meeting and greeting each other in the kitchen, we were now going to meet and greet our horse partners.  Following the meet and greet activity and debrief, we moved into our next activity which was catch and halter.

We invited the five participants to pick a horse in their minds, though not tell anyone which horse they picked.  Then, we randomly put the group in line.  Each person would grab a halter from the pile, then halter their selected horse, leading them back to the line.  Simple right?  We explained the activity could provide us with a way to learn more about the thoughts behind everyone’s choices, as well as their decision-making in the event more than one person selected the same horse.

First to the pile of halters was Andrea.  She untangled a halter from the pile, marched straight towards the 20-year-old “hard to catch” mare.  She gently put the halter on her face, then led her back to the line, easy peasy.  The other participants stopped their own haltering, swiveled their heads to look surprisingly at each other and us.  What just happened?  According to Ina, this mare was supposed to be hard to catch?  Because Andrea wasn’t there when Ina shared that information, she held no pre-conceived notions about the catchability of the mare.

This opening experience set the tone for our entire time together.  The “accidental” opportunity to learn organically, collectively, and vulnerably created a container that instantly invited honest dialogue and sharing.  We had no way of knowing at the beginning that by bonding so quickly would lead to a life-changing final activity for Vicky.         

The last class of our series was an activity known in therapeutic sessions as “lie detector”. Each participant rides a horse, bareback, with a surcingle (a wide strap that runs over the back and under the belly of a horse) belt around the horses’ waist.  The rider then read the personal mission statement they created after four sessions of exploring boundaries, obstacles, and visioning.  The horse responded as a sensor or mirror to the person, reading the energy and congruence of the human.  

After a brief introduction of how to safely dismount a horse, we invited Vicky to mount the horse she selected.  She bent her left leg, into Stacie’s cupped hands, then swung the right one over the back of the horse.  Once on, she wiggled her bottom, settling into her seat for balance, then grasped the surcingle.  After handing me the reins, Stacie moved off to the side of the arena to observe.  I waited for her to move the horse.  My job was to support the rider by staying present, coaching her through the experience. That meant lightly holding the line, but not influencing the speed, direction, or movement of the horse. 

Vicky unfolded her notes, then began telling us that this story about her and her Dad.  She was visibly shaken.  The horse, Pharoh, stood perfectly still.  I invited her to take a couple deep breaths.  Once she finished the second breath, Pharoh walked forward as if he’s been given permission to move.  Vicky told us that her father unexpectantly died recently.  Clop.  Clop.  Clop.  Pharoh moved forward.  Then he stopped.  Vicky cried softly.  She dug a tissue out of her pocket to wipe her eyes, then blew her nose.  I asked her if she noticed that she’s not moving anymore?  She nodded her head yes, holding back more tears.  We stayed in this space for a bit longer. 

She then took another deep breath, re-engaging Pharoh in a walk.  We moved slowly around the arena.  She told us that the last phone conversation she had before her dad died was a fight.  He didn’t want her to take a job she was offered, explaining that he thought it was short-sighted, not giving her the freedom she craved.  She shared that she shouted back that it was her life; she would take the job if she thought that was the right thing to do. 

At this point Pharoh stopped again.  He had positioned himself so that he was in the corner looking at the wall.  I asked her to look up from the paper to see where Pharoh led her.  She started to cry even harder sharing that the wall in front of her felt like the wall of shame and guilt that she couldn’t get over.  She was struggling with finding a way to forgive herself for that last conversation with her Dad.  Vicky loved/s her Dad deeply, regretting not telling him that before he passed. 

After she was able to catch her breath, I asked if she believed in something larger than herself.  If her worldview included a God, or other spirit that she could speak to.  She said she did.  At this point, Pharoh turned from the wall, moving forward again.  Vicky, recognized that Pharoh was moving forward, which meant she could too!  She stated out loud that she was sorry, asking God and her Dad to forgive her.  She declared that she loved her Dad dearly, that she knew he always wanted what was best for her. 

The activity over, Vicky dismounted, threw her arms around his neck and hugged on Pharoh, thanking him for offering himself to her.  He gave a whole-body shake, releasing the tension he’d been carrying through the activity.  He then yawned, further letting go of the energy he’d held for her.

Share a time when you were engaged in learning something about yourself.  How did it feel in your body?  What did you notice about that feeling?

Did the feeling shift or change when you paid attention to it?

Is there anything from that experience that you can apply to something happening in your life today? 

What advise would you give your future self in or to create more engaged learning experiences? 

COMMUNITY

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?

BOUNDARIES

BOUNDARIES

My draft mare and soul horse, Tigger, trained me very well to give her scratches before she left her stall each morning.  To get a sense of her size, I’m 5’5” and can’t see over the middle of her back.  Each time I’d go into her stall, dangling halter in hand, she’d drop her huge head and wait – all 1,800 pounds of huggable, furry, immovable, horse standing solidly asking for me to give her some love. Most days this action brought me pure joy, providing me a moment of being fully present.

Then there were the times when I was running late and “had” to get horses out NOW.  My tardiness did not matter one iota to this gentle giant.  To get her forward movement I would be required to take the time to let her know I loved her – even briefly – before those dinner plate sized feet were going to cross the entrance of her stall.  What a gift she gave me – a required time to pause, even if I didn’t want to or think it was the priority at the time. 

The behavior of stopping to be scratched before leaving her stall was a complete waste of time to my barn manager, Tam.  Tam believed Tigger’s request was the opposite of joyful.   For this life-long horse woman, it was straight-up disrespectful.  She would insist that Tigger move out of her stall when asked.  Tam wasn’t real happy with me either, since I’m the one that created, and actively supported, this bad-mannered behavior!     

Tiggs size is not the predominant factor in her getting her way in our exchange.  It was a combination of her asking and my willingness to respond to her request.  Animals training their humans can take many forms.  Kunigunda is my 8.8 lb. rescue dog who also has me well trained (I’m seeing a pattern here?!).  This little white ball of fluff that looks like a toy instead of real dog, has figured out that when I am on the phone, or a zoom call, if she barks and bats at me with her tiny paws that I will give her treats.  This behavior has been repeatedly rewarded to the point that to be able to participate, without incessant background barking, I have to remove her, shutting the doors to my office!

For those of us in the equine world, getting even the slightest lean (physical shift) into a scary wash rack or horse-eating trailer is a positive result when you are asking a frightened horse to move forward.   One rewards their desired behavior by taking the pressure off, in hopes that the horse will move farther in the desired direction the next time we try.  Horse training is always best when it is on the horse’s timeframe.  Meaning, there’s a core belief with all the horse-people I know that you never end a training session where the horse “wins”.  A horse win could be the equine not moving forward or even backing up further away from your goal.  The human must stay committed to the horse’s learning.  Though if the goal is a full step into the washrack or trailer and time is running out, you’ll take the lean as a win, calling it good. 

You may be wondering why horses would be so frightened of a washrack or horse trailer.  Put yourself in this prey animals’ hooves.  Usually wash stalls are dark, so are the insides of horse trailers.  Both sort of look like the entrance to a cave.  In a horse’s mind there could be a cougar, lion, or other meat-eating animal crouching inside that black space.  Better to avoid it in order stay alive.

What does “lean in” look like in a human context?  Much has been written and researched regarding human decision-making, which usually begins with self-awareness.  The depth of information is vast, from physical considerations like brain research, to mindsets, personality types, learning styles, as well as the effects of various experiences, such as trauma (big T and little t). 

Speed of movement is also something to pay attention to when working with horses.  Managing the optimum speed for the best results.  One solution to a horse moving forward too quickly is to turn them. Let’s say you’re out on a trail ride on your horse.  Beautiful day, slight breeze, puffy white clouds on a bright blue background, chirping birds.  Calmly walking your horse enjoying nature’s bounty.  Along comes one of the world’s scariest creatures.  A squirrel swiftly darts across the path in front of you, startling your noble steed.  Your horse bolts, taking off at a dead run for the safety of the barn. 

You hang on, seeking an open space to be able to turn your horse.  If you’re riding with a bridle, the rider can literally pull a rein (right or left) to make the horse stop going straight.  This redirection pulls them back in their body.  By bending instead of simply running straight, they are forced to pay attention.  Once you have their attention, then the human can work with their horse to reset themselves in order to walk calmly back on the trail. 

One human equivalent to pulling on a rein or re-direction yourself is grounding.  Deep breathing is one way to get grounded, accessing your vagal nerves.  The vagal nerves carry signals between your brain, heart, and digestive system. They’re a key part of your parasympathetic nervous system.  Your parasympathetic nervous system controls “rest and digest” functions. It’s the opposite of your sympathetic nervous system’s “fight or flight” response.

When considering self-awareness, there are many tools, techniques, assessments, and resources to help an individual craft an accurate (at that time) profile of the self.  Tools are devices designed to carry out a function, while techniques are how you use them.  For instance, say you’ve got a lead rope or leash, that’s your tool.  Your success depends on how you use it, that’s the technique. 

Self-awareness is a moving target, evolving as we discover, learn, and grow. If you choose to use feedback from others as a means of increasing your self-awareness, be certain to consider the others’ motives, their role, and incentives.  Feedback is always about the sender, it may or may not be about the receiver.    

Additionally, there are alternative theories, healing modalities, and spiritual practices that humans hold which invite movement or action.  I’m referring to invisible energy fields, the power of prayer, reiki, meditation, etc.  There is increasing science behind how thoughts, emotions, and beliefs have healing power.  There is a fascinating link between consciousness and human connection, as well as the relationship between suppressed emotions and disease.   

Given all of the aforementioned variables, it’s easy to understand why boundary setting can be challenging.  The complexity of setting boundaries, whether for a horse that requests scratches, a puppy that begs for treats, or a friend that takes advantage of you is just that, complex.

Think of the lean-in, horse or human, as a “try”.  With horses, it can be easy to  reward the try.  Give yourself the same grace.  When you lean in, reward your try, then seek to move further into that horse-eating washrack tomorrow.

Recall a time where you set a healthy boundary.  What conditions were present that enabled you to set that boundary?

Is there a current situation where you are feeling taken advantage of?  What do you think you can leverage for the situation to change to be better for you?

What actions are you going to try and who will hold you accountable?