SELF-CONFIDENCE

SELF-CONFIDENCE

The Saginaw County Business and Education Partnership (SCBEP) offered a summer youth program that gave at-risk Saginaw County students a hand up in choosing a career track.  They partnered with local businesses to provide short-term summer jobs so the kids could gain valuable experience.

During the school year, junior and senior students’ sixth hour class focused on increasing academic skills with certified teachers, specialized in their accreditation, such as math. The students then stayed a seventh hour after school hours to learn employability skills and responsibility with hands-on activities for career preparation.  In the summer, because the students had already completed their skills classes, SCBEP looked for businesses to assist in job placement that would get the students ready for the workforce. The students were placed by career track and worked for six weeks, 25 hours per week, at minimum wage.

Jessica, an African American student from an inner-city school dreamed of becoming a veterinarian.  SCBEP was unable to find a veterinarian partner for her summer program, so Kathy, the Executive Director, asked me if I would be willing to allow Jessica to work at my farm for the summer.  I confidently said Yes, not realizing that I was going to learn as much from her as she would from me. 

When Jessica got dropped off at the farm her first day, I opened the door welcoming her warmly.  She shyly asked where she could put her brown bag lunch.  I pointed to the refrigerator, explaining that she could help herself to anything she found around the place.  Because we often had visitors, I always kept out a bowl of candy, pop and other beverages in the fridge, and snacks in the cabinet next to the fridge.  What was a “normal” business practice for me, surprised Jessica; not only that there were so many goodies available, she seemed blow away that she could just help herself.

After a quick barn tour, I invited her to sit in one of my high-top chairs at the custom-build kidney shaped blue countertop island.  My plan was that we would start by getting to know each other, setting some goals for the summer.  I quickly realized that she had not had a lot of life experiences.  She had never been outside the city of Saginaw.  Where she was today, a city 15 miles from her home, was the furthest she’d ever travelled.  She also shared with me that the reason she wanted to become a vet was because she wanted to be able to help all the stray cats and dogs in her neighborhood.  This career focused class just became a life-skills class, as I decided I was going to build her confidence by exposing her to as many things as possible during our time together.

This was early in Kaleidoscope’s history, so one of the projects I assigned Jessica was to paint meaningful quotes I had stenciled on walls, doors, tables, etc.  After Jessica finished painting the quote, “Too often we give our children answers to remember, rather than problems to solve, in gold paint over the windows looking into the arena, I decided to reward her by taking to lunch in town at DaVinci’s Restaurant. 

Jessica told me she had never been to a sit-down Italian restaurant, so she was pretty excited to go.  When our bill came at the end of our meal, I asked her to figure out the 20% tip.  Jessica, a high school senior, sheepishly told me she didn’t know how.  I was stunned.  In hopes that I wouldn’t embarrass her, I simply walked her through the process, asking her if she could tell me what 10% was.  She could, so I explained that 20% was that number twice.  She did the math. I left the tip. Another life lesson learned. 

Stacie’s friend, Diane, and her husband owned a robotic dairy farm.  Stacie mentioned to me that Diane was hosting a “farm day” for local 4-H groups to come out and see their mechanical milking operation, bottle feed the new calves and visit their goats and chickens.  Stacie was bringing her two new foals, Beauty and Annie, so the people could also meet them.  It was a perfect opportunity for Jessica, as she had never seen a cow up close, let alone the other farm animals. 

Jessica arrived at Diane’s farm wide-eyed and curious.  After observing others feed the calves, she confidently accepted the bottle when the girl she was watching handed it to her to take a turn.  She moved forward, putting the black rubber nipple through the wire fence, placing it in the open and eagerly expectant mouth of a black and white Holstein-Friesian calf.  The calf suckled excitedly, milk dripping down either side of its’ mouth.  After a few minutes, Jess pulled the nipple out.  She turned, showing a bright white ear-to-ear smile, then gave the plastic bottle to the little boy waiting behind her.

While I am not a regular horse-back rider, I recognized letting Jessica ride would be a unique experience, helping build her self-esteem.  I committed to periodic riding lessons on Charlie, our most reliable steed. 

We started each riding lesson with grooming.  Grooming a horse before you ride is a critical first step in the process.  It offers the rider the opportunity to make sure their horse is sound, checking for any injuries or sore spots.  Grooming also invites a physical connection through touch and exchanging energy.  It centers both the rider and the horse, especially with a seasoned veteran like our old man Chuck.  He knew that being groomed in crossties was likely going to lead to being ridden. 

Charlie’s personality was one where he enjoyed having a job.  When we would partner with him in some equine-assisted learning activities where the sequence of events didn’t follow a familiar order, he would cock his head inquisitively and look at me as if to say, “Lady, what in the world are you asking of me?”    

I began with a longe line clipped to the side of Charlie’s halter underneath his bridle.  I started Jessica’s lessons by inviting her to walk in circles.  I had her practice turns by asking her to lead Charlie around different obstacles placed throughout the arena.  Once she was confident with walking and I was comfortable she would be able to safely stop, we moved on to her trotting, still on the lead line.  Next, we sequenced to walking then trotting without the lead line.  We never graduated to a canter, as she wasn’t that confident and we basically ran out time to safely advance to the faster gait.

On Jessic’s last day, I invited her to celebrate by having her mom and sister tour the farm.  I, naturally, prepared a spread of goodies for snacks, filled a gift bag of horsey related items, and waited for them to arrive.  The allotted time came and went.  No Jessica.  I called her home.  She answered and embarrassingly explained that her mom wasn’t interested in coming.  Mom told Jessica that all she did at my place was “shovel doodie” and she had no desire to be around smelly stinky horses.  I told Jessica I was really sorry to hear that.  Then, I shared that I had a present for her and if she liked, I would bring it to her house.  She gave me the address. 

As I drove there, the houses gradually got more and more broken down.  Uncut lawns.  Boarded up windows.  Trash in the yard.  Cars up on blocks next to the driveway.  I began to wonder if going to her house, by myself, was good idea.  I chose not to turn around since I was almost there and Jessica was expecting me.  I took a deep breath, said a little prayer and confidently looked for the house number on the mailbox.  Finding it, I pulled in the driveway, grabbed my giftbag, locked my car, walked up the uneven concrete sidewalk and knocked on the weather-worn front door.  Jessica opened it.  I handed her the brightly colored horsey gift bag.  She thanked me.  Ever the hugger, I asked her if I could give her a hug.  She shrugged and said sure, somewhat surprised.  I hugged her lightly, thanked her for trusting me and wished her good luck. 

Later that week, I received a gold and pink flowered three-dimensional thank you card with the inscription, “You always do things that make someone feel very special and that is appreciated.”  She also sloppily wrote, “2: Tracy thanks for making me feel so good about horseback riding.  I really enjoyed it.  I’m looking forward to see you again.” 

I never saw Jessica again, though I learned through Kathy that she really appreciated her time at Kaleidoscope.  She had a job working at a fast-food restaurant and started classes at a local community college.  Our brief time together opened my eyes to the often-invisible barriers facing many people.  My time with Jessica reminded me of another quote painted on my arena wall, “What would you do if you could not fail”.    

Recall a time when you were completely outside your comfort zone, confidently moved into this new and uncomfortable situation.  What were the circumstances that helped support make that happen?

Have you replicated those circumstances in other situations?  What were the results and what did you learn?

Is there something in the future that you’d like to have more self-confidence?  Do you have any ideas what the next step is and how you might increase your confidence?      

CONNECTION

CONNECTION

Our third stakeholder demonstration for Detroit Horse Power (DHP) was initiated by Nicole sending out a detailed invite, bringing together seven high-powered decision-makers from the city of Detroit.  The group arrived open-minded, engaged, and willing to connect.  For example, the pre-assessment closing question, “Tell us something the other participants might not know about you”, revealed that Elana was an adoptee.  Darrin shared that he was also an adoptee, making an unknown connection between them known.  We also learned they all had strong relationships to either/and/or DHP’s mission, David, or Nicole. 

We made our introductions in our usual Kaleidoscope Learning Circle (KLC) way, inviting our guests to pick one of three open ended questions.  1) Briefly share a favorite place, explaining why.  2) If you were a song, what would it be and 3) If you were/are a superhero what is your superpower?

Danny, credit union CEO, kicked things off explaining he couldn’t pick just one song.  He’d be a playlist with a variety of songs, based on his mood that for that day.  He then started to answer the other two questions, when the entire group interrupted him.  Somewhat embarrassed, he apologized, telling us he didn’t see the “Pick One” instruction.  Everyone else took their turn, including our DHP hosts, David and Nicole.  Their involvement cemented their role for the day, that they could be both hosts and participants.

It was a beautiful September day, bright blue sky, puffy white clouds, with a soft warm breeze.  Stacie and I decided to try something she’d found very successful, yet we’d never done before.  We invited our group to a grounding activity.  We all stood out in the pasture, as eight horses and a cow (yes, a cow) wandered around us. We were guided by Stacie’s soothing voice to notice our bodies.  Notice our breath.  Listen.  What sounds did we hear? She suggested we notice the thoughts coming into our minds, then let them move on, clearing our busy brains to fully experience the space we were in now. 

Now fully present and mindful we invited the participants to meet and greet the horses.  After giving them plenty of time to mosey around the pasture, we circled them back up; then asked them what struck them about the experience.  Danny again showed his willingness to be vulnerable.  He shared that he was more afraid than he expected.  As a leader, he didn’t anticipate that he would be intimidated by these animals.  His comments were a perfect segway for us to ask about times when we were with people and we felt anxious.  Everyone made the connection from horse experience to human experience, agreeing that we might be fearful with strangers or being in a strange place.

The next activity was thumb wrestling.  Thumb wrestling exposes and explores our implicit assumptions about competition and collaboration.  It invites discussion about how our mental models can create unintended consequences, if we are not fully present.  After pairing people up, the instructions are to get as many pins as possible.  After a minute, I called the activity, asking everyone how many pins they earned.  Danny and Rebecca 76.  Darrin and Chris, one each.  Tarsha and Elana, five and seven.  Adam and David, two and three.

I asked Danny how they got so many?  He shared that he had participated in a similar activity with arm wrestling pins, so he knew that if you worked collaboratively instead of competitively you would earn more pins.  He convinced Rebecca that they had to take turns pinning, to reach the stated goal. 

The last activity, Billiards, would take place in the arena, a smaller, better-sized place than the pasture.  We selected three horses to partner with, deciding to work with ones the group was already familiar.  Lacey is a big beautiful draft, which Nicole brought into the arena.  We tied her to the loop on the wall, knowing she would stand quietly until the other two horses were brought in.  Noticing that she was standing on three legs, not putting pressure on her rear left leg, I asked David to go over and check it.  He didn’t feel any heat or see a cut, so we concluded her problem was likely an abscess.    

Because billiards required moving the horses into pre-established “pockets” of two pvc pipes, we decided to partner with another horse instead of three-legged Lacey.  Stacie brought in Shocky, holding her while David and Nicole brought in the last two, Stormy and Lexi. 

Once we put up the pvc pole barrier, we let the horses loose.  Shocky pinned her ears, pushing Stormy and Lexi away from the people.  We waited a bit for them to sort themselves.  They settled down when Stormy and Lexi noticed the round bales of hay being stored in the back of the arena.  Hay being much more interesting than people, they both headed towards the grub. 

Shocky, on the other hand, seemed pleased to have the people all to herself.  We learned later from Charlotte, Starz Equestrian Center owner, that Shocky is normally the last one caught because she is the lowest of the herd hierarchy.  The unusual set of conditions, her being alone with the people, gave her a confidence she did not normally display.  Charlotte was quite surprised to hear that Shocky had connected so strongly to the people, willing to “claim” them, by pushing the other horses away. 

We lined the people up, asking them to sort by eye color.  Darrin shared that he was color blind, so would need some help.  Discovering someone’s inability to see different colors never occurred to me.  His vulnerability to share led to Elana acknowledging that her husband was also color blind.  Once they decided on the line up, we invited them to stand between two buckets filled with water.  The consequence they chose if anyone talked when it wasn’t their turn was to bark like a seal three times while clapping their hands. 

Elana took off, wrapped her arm around Shocky’s neck moving her in to the “pocket” space of two pvc pipes angled fairly close together.  Her three minutes up, I shouted, “time”.  Next up was Darrin.  He pretty much followed Elana’s lead, getting the mare nearly inside the pvc pipe pocket.  Tarsha was next.  She was not as confident about being around horses, so pretty much just walked along side Shocky, not moving her into the pocket.  Adam took his turn, again moving Shocky into a pocket, this time the one on the other side of the arena which I purposefully spread really far apart.  Intermittently, I’d remind those on the sidelines to “stay between the buckets.”   

During her turn, Rebecca asked if as the leader she could talk.  Up to this point, no one had taken advantage of their ability to talk when it was their turn.  Classically, focusing on what they couldn’t do, rather than what they could.  I confirmed that she could talk without a consequence.  She turned to the whole group, standing between the buckets, suggesting that they work together by picking up the buckets and making one long line. The group snaked towards the horses, when I shouted “time”.  Danny followed her lead and they all moved as one.  Lastly, Chris asked if they could move the pvc pipes.  I asked him if I said they couldn’t?  He responded, “No” so they picked up the pipes and made them as large as the arena as time ran out.   

Because we were ahead of schedule, Stacie, Nicole, and I debated as to whether we should do another activity.  Nicole suggested a leading activity, since we hadn’t done that yet.  Stacie, started spit balling some ways we could make it work.  I felt like throwing the activity in just because we had extra time was the wrong answer.  After mulling it over, I suggested we invite them all to journal the day.  Creating the space for them to make their own personal connections to the work, each other, and themselves.  David agreed, and later admitted he was afraid they would all just get on their phones after writing a few sentences.  Instead, he witnessed some deep and thoughtful journalling.   

We all moved into the conference room for lunch.  Darrin, a university professor studying entrepreneurship, asked Stacie and I our origin stories.  We gladly shared our humble beginnings.  He mused that wasn’t incredible to realize that if my 1998 Master’s degree at Rochester Institute of Technology had not included the experiential “red barn” experience and the facilitator hadn’t told me about the Association of Experiential Education that none of us would be connected here.

After rich discussion about equine-assisted learning and DHP’s future programming, we closed the day with my Kaleidoscopian Processing cards.  Going around the room, it was Darrin’s turn.  He started to well up, getting tears in his eyes.  Unable to speak, he asked to pass and come back to him.  Tarsha went next, then Rebecca.  Now it was Danny’s turn.  He too, became emotional when he shared the card he picked and its’ profound impact. 

The connections made that day were magical.  In reflecting on what was the “secret sauce” that made this possible, David, Nicole, Stacie, and I all agreed that there were several factors that contributed to such a heartfelt experience for seven strangers in four hours.  A reminder that sometimes, being in a space with others who are willing to be authentic and vulnerable can lead to seeing others and being seen.  

Recall a time when all the conditions aligned and you lived through a magical experience?

Have you replicated, or tried to replicate, those conditions in future settings?  How did that work or not work out?

What lessons have you learned that you can take into future adventures?

DESIRE

DESIRE2

“Trusting the process” is a phrase that is imbedded in most experiential facilitation and most definitely in all Kaleidoscope programming.  Some of the most magical experiences have been when we recognize a learning opportunity that emerges, outside of the desired program outcomes.  A time that magic happened was when a local social services agency worked with us to provide a three-prong program; we designed two half-day staff trainings at my farm, which sandwiched a program at their facility for the youth they served. 

Following the first staff training at Kaleidoscope, the next phase was to introduce the 80 residential boys, over two seven-hour days, to our horses.  This part of the program scared with living crap out of me!  We would be going behind barbed wire fences dealing with locked up offenders of both sexual criminal conduct, or as a result of being in the juvenile justice or foster care system.  Many had behavioral issues such as aggression, self-harm, or substance abuse.  These students lived as inmates in a 24/7 locked down, gated, guarded facility.      

Stacie and Amber, both licensed mental health professionals, were giddy with delight.  They knew and loved helping this population.  Their desire to help the kids and my desire to help the adults, was a beautiful marriage of our strengths in partnering with horses to help all sorts of humans.    

Rules from the agency included:  No compacts, purses, pins, lipstick, chains, jewelry, earrings, barrettes or combs, bandanas, or sunglasses. No glass or metal.  Nothing in our pockets.  No pencils or pens.  No touching.  No second chances! Anything missing, everything stops.  Nothing happens until we find what is missing.  Clothing – no tight pants, shorts, and blouses must be buttoned all the way up. Truck keys should be turned into the agency.   

Staff for each of the hallways, North, South, East and West, were invited to share in the experience by standing outside the roundpen while the boys rotated in and out of the activity.  The staff that had more general roles, such as the teachers, watched as long as their schedules would allow.

We divided the groups of 6-8 boys into pairs, so that Amber and Stacie could have one-on-one experiences with each of the 80 residents.  The participants’ task was to halter and lead, then groundtie the horse. Basically, a “walk and talk” horse, client, and therapist just hanging out, leaning into the experience.

This population was numbed by not being seen or heard, having been traumatized repeatedly. The expertise of our facilitators, Stacie and Amber, coupled with the openings created by leading (or trying to lead) a horse provided opportunities in mere minutes that could take days or longer to accomplish in a talk therapy setting.  The required presence of the client, in a new and unfamiliar situation, along with the perceived risk of partnering with a horse, reinforced a trusting relationship with Stacie and Amber by virtue of the kid agreeing to even step into the roundpen with them. 

For the most part, rock solid Tigger and Charlie, were more interested in the grass than the kids.  They respectfully lifted their heads when asked politely or continued to eat when the boy did not make his intention or “ask” clear.  This allowed Amber and Stacie to process the interaction, bridging the horse experience to other “asks” in the kids’ lives, focusing on the results of their actions.  In their short time together, these experienced facilitators helped the inmates better understand how the story behind their actions influenced outcomes; opening the possibility of changing the story, thus changing the outcomes.

It was interesting to see the boys come out of the blond brick building, turn the corner, to see Tigger.  Some of them threw up their arms, feigned a heart attack (ala Fred Sanford of Sanford and son) exaggerated their responses at the size of her, most never having been near a horse, let alone a draft horse. 

My main job was supporting the boys who were waiting their turn or who had already had a chance to partner with the horses.  Several of the kids would eagerly tell me about their dogs, thinking that the relationship with their canine friends was similar to spending time with horses.  I patiently repeated, for the umpteenth time, that horses were prey animals, while dogs and humans are predators. 

On day two, the adults that had been there most of the time started to get more comfortable, becoming familiar with our routine.  The more comfortable the adults got, the more uncomfortable I got. I remember one incident in particular, when a tall, quiet, black kid said he did not want to go in with the horses.  A younger teacher who had been on the sidelines with me both days, said

“DeShawn you’ve got to go in there.  You may never get another chance like this to be so close to a horse.”

DeShawn answered, “Naw, Man, I ain’t interested”.

The teacher pushed harder, “You’ll REALLY regret dude.  This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

DeShawn moved further away from the group and the roundpen, vigorously shaking his head NO.

The back and forth exchange between the two went on for a few more rounds, with other teachers joining the young teacher in taunting DeShawn.  Their desire was to encourage him, though they were having the opposite impact. 

I finally stopped the conversation by saying to the entire group,

“Listen, teachers and staff. DeShawn is saying “No”.  Isn’t it a good thing that he knows what is best for him.  Wouldn’t you serve him better by respecting his decision, regardless of YOUR desire?  Don’t you want to reward him for knowing what HE wants, despite disappointing you, he is willing to stand up for what he believes is best for him.”

I then shared one of my favorite quotes of all time, that Peter Block tell us that, “If you can’t say No, then Yes has no meaning.” 

The teachers sheepishly started to affirm to DeShawn that it was okay if he didn’t want to go in.  They told him they respected his decision.  This time the lesson for our clients came from me, a present two-legged facilitator.  Because I was willing to call the clients out on their behavior, I helped them recognize the unintended consequences of their actions.

Stacie and Amber were not aware of my exchange with the staff until we are loaded up and in my Kaleidoscopian adorned dually returning Tigger and Charlie back to the farm.  They were so engaged in their own interactions with the boys, that they were oblivious to anything that happened outside the roundpen.  When they learned about my respectful “calling out” they both affirmed that not only did we make a short-term difference in the lives of these residents, maybe, just maybe, we had a lasting impact on future decisions of the staff. 

Recall a time when your actions did not get the desired results?

Can you apply the lessons from that experience to anything in your life now?

What additional choices can you make in the future to get the results you desire?   

PERSONAL POWER

PERSONAL POWER

In 2005 Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT) accepted my proposal to offer an equine-assisted learning (EAL) session for their Pluralism Conference.  RIT is where I earned a master’s degree and was a faculty member for several years.  Our proposal was accepted because we explained that horses respond to a person as they show up in relationship with them.  They frankly don’t care if you have money, status, or a title such as CEO, President, or the biggada boss.  Understanding that difference is our only opportunity for learning (Michael Broom) invites infinite possibilities and curiosity.  We, then, have agency and can offer the same to others, seeking to leverage the positive for mutually beneficial outcomes. 

We, my equine specialist and friend, Sara and I, secured a barn and horses near the RIT main campus.  A group of eight students from RIT’s National Technical Institute for the Deaf, their interpreter, and a RIT faculty member chose to spend the afternoon with us.  We began the EAL experience in our standard way with “meet and greet” experiential activities for both horses and humans.  Creating connection before content is a core value of Kaleidoscope’s programming. 

We were in an indoor horse arena with a large open area where horses were walking, sniffing the ground, and settling into the space together.  The humans are nearby, separated from the horses by a corral.  The humans are invited to enter the horse’s space and greet each one however they feel comfortable.  A greeting can be from a distance, just making eye contact, or close, including friendly scratches for the horses. Not only is the approach decided by each individual, we also do not prescribe anything about the exchanges, such as how long, only one person per horse at a time, etc.   Our lack of specific direction allows us, as facilitators, to witness the choices made by the participants.  Do they pay attention to how their actions impact others’ experiences?  How do the horses respond – do they move away or toward anyone?  What is the energy of the experience – is it heightened and frantic or calm and peaceful?      

The second activity we invited participants to experience was “catch and halter”.  The sequence of meet and greet – just being in a shared space for horses and humans - to asking something of each other, haltering, moves both beings from strangers into building relationships.  One of our jobs as facilitators is to create a place where humans, who may be unfamiliar with hanging out with 1,200-pound hooved animals, get more comfortable.  There’s a sweet spot creating engaged learning environments, which is just outside the comfort zone in the learning edge.  Not everyone’s “edge” is the same, so there is some mastery in managing this space for all the participants. 

For catch and halter, the participants were invited to halter the horses.  A halter is designed to go over the horses’ ears, with the horses’ nose in the center and a snap or tie under the throat.  Again, the participants were not given any specific instructions, nor were they shown the “correct” method of putting on a halter.  We designed this activity to support a learning philosophy of “no right or wrong, just different”.  And the students did not disappoint!  Halters were put on upside down, lead ropes were clipped to the sides of the halter, instead of the bottom; truly many creative alternatives to the standard way of haltering a horse!  Thankfully, our four-legged facilitators stood calmly and allowed for all sorts of learning to safely take place. 

An additional element to the activity is we invited the participants to take part in haltering without talking.  If they talked then they would have a consequence of their choosing.  Because this was the first time we worked with a deaf population, we engaged in an open conversation about what “talking” meant.  It was mutually decided that our rule meant no verbal communication or sign language would be allowed without a consequence.

Nonverbal communication is critical to all animals. While many humans may think they are primarily responding to verbal communication, significant research has shown that we instinctually and unconsciously read and react to nonverbal signals in greater proportion than the spoken word. Horses and other animals are masters at reading subtle changes in body language and other nonverbal cues. For example, a horse’s ears tell you many things about their mood, where their attention is, and in combination with their eyes they can be very expressive and interpretive.  Learning to understand the subtle cues of the equine language requires focus in a way that can help people really “see what they are looking at,” inviting one to stay in the present moment.  

One of the most interesting take-aways from this session was that the individual most challenged by our “no talking rule” was the student’s interpreter.  She shared how she struggled with not being able to fulfill her role as a communicator for the students.  Was this because more of her identity and sense of self was tied to the limitation or rule imposed? 

How often do we inadvertently put ourselves in a similar situation to what the interpreter was feeling?  Meaning, where do we experience limiting beliefs that get in our way of moving forward and threaten our sense of self?  One of the reasons that EAL can be so powerful to human development is because we create a safe place to practice challenges, barriers, and constraints such as imposing a no talking rule.   We then debrief, allowing for reflection and insight into alternative choices.  This opportunity is important because, “We see the world not as it is, rather we see it as we are” (Anaïs Nin).     

Each of us has abilities and disabilities, some visible and most invisible.  These aspects of who we “are” constantly changes, evolves, and informs our actions both consciously and unconsciously.  This is why the adage, that “actions speak louder than words” holds true.  The more self-aware we become the better the chances are that we will make decisions that are congruent with our intentions. 

Where does our personal power have the most impact?  Eistein offers us insight… A human being is a part of the whole that we call the universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest--a kind of optical illusion of his consciousness. This illusion is a prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for only the few people nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living beings and all of nature. ~ Albert Einstein

Recall a time when the story you told yourself reduced or eliminated your personal power.  What happened? What helped you recognize that you had abdicated your power?

Do you have practices or rituals that help support your in maintaining your power?

Is there a situation you anticipate in the future where you are at risk of allowing your power to be diminished?  What can you do proactively to maintain your power? 

VISION

VISION

One of Kaleidoscope’s early programs was participating in the Midwest Student Outdoor Educators Conference.  Amber and I loaded up Tigger and Al to head to the west side of the State.  We enthusiastically filled the two- and half-hour drive with plans for the year, family challenges, and industry gossip. 

Amber was starting her newly minted mental health practice, Bridgewater Support Services, llc.  She was imagining a future filled with equine-assisted programs for individuals and groups.  Her preferred population was working with youth, which she could offer in the evenings and weekends after she finished her shift in the hospital Emergency Room.  Her vision was to build the business so that she could provide Equine-Assisted Mental Health Services full-time.  I was delighted that Kaleidoscope programs were growing, so that I could offer her opportunities to make money, expand her network, and be a part of a variety of different experiences.

I was super excited about the year ahead.  Already on the books for the year was creating a high quality video designed to introduce people to our work, being a vendor at both the Great Lakes Bay Regional and the Saginaw Valley Business Expo’s, a demonstration for a legislative bus tour coordinated by our county Convention & Visitors Bureau (with Schaefer & Bierlein sponsoring lunch), and most exciting was a Demonstration, Mundo and Nana called a “Deminar” in Puerto Rico.

We both were growing as practitioners, becoming clearer and more insightful with each client experience.  I had figured out that my preferred target audience was adult learners.  I loved the small group work, where one can provide opportunities for both inter- and intra- personal connections.  Kaleidoscope’s tagline was “Building Relationships.  Creating Possibilities.” Which perfectly represented the experiences we co-created with clients. 

I hadn’t yet hired any consultants to help me map out the details, create action plans, and drill down into the specifics of a strategic plan. That would come later.  Right now, I was too busy with the moving parts of running the farm, keeping the horses, dogs, cats, and other living things healthy, being a single Mom to my very social and active 8th grade and 11th grade daughters, all the while taking advantage of the momentum that was building around our unique selling proposition – equine-assisted learning.

Amber, being the more experienced horse hauler, easily handled my dually and horse trailer.  We arrived at the designated campus location.  It was down a dirt road, near their ropes course in a clearing of a wooded area near the Muskegon River.  We were instructed to turn right down a steep hill then set up our roundpen in the open space at the bottom.  There had been a lot of rain recently, common for April in Michigan, creating soft and mushy ground.  We stopped at the top of the incline contemplating whether we should take the plunge to the bottom.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone from the college around to help us find an alternate location.  With the program scheduled to start soon, we decided to set up where they suggested, at the bottom of the hill. 

Amber slowly started inching downward, when she realized what a bad idea this was.  She stopped abruptly, turned to me wide-eyed, and told me she thought she could make it to the bottom, but wasn’t sure we’d be able to make it back up.  The ground was just too soft.  We could hear dancing hooves banging as Tigger and Al were impatient with our stopping.  They nervously shuffled, slightly rocking the trailer, adding to the tension of the moment. 

Crap.  Now what?  We both took some deep breaths, weighing our options.  We were sitting in an 8,000 lb. horse trailer with one 1,200 lb. horse and a 1,700 lb. draft horse.  Total combined weight, approximately 11,000 lbs.   Amber asked me to call Randy to find out what was the best gear to put the truck in.  Thankfully, he answered right away and told us to put it in four-wheel drive low.  We were outside the truck assessing things, trying to explain the situation to Randy.  He suggested we start by seeing if we could back up. 

We knew we had to get Tiggs and Al off the trailer first to lighten the load.  I was scared to be the one required to hold them out in the middle of nowhere without any security, such as a roundpen or fence.  Fearing they would take off and be gone forever or get hurt, I shared my concerns.  Amber reassured me, building my confidence by reminding me how many times a day I led horses, declaring that I had never lost one.  I awkwardly chuckled revealing to her that was not entirely true.  In the early days, Tigger got away from me, though thankfully nothing bad happened.  She laughed, stating that was several years ago, telling me I was a much more accomplished horse person now.  Besides, we had no other choice.  Seeing she was right, step-by-step we backed the horses off the trailer with ease.  Grabbing both leadropes, I moved a few feet away to a grassy area for them to graze. 

She jumped back in the cab to try backing up. The tires created deeper ruts in the muddy slope; chunks of dirt and stones flew everywhere when she hit the gas pedal.  We called Randy back, explaining that simply backing up wasn’t going to work, seeking his advice now.  He suggested we go forward to get more of a running start, then turn the wheel to get out of the existing grooves.  This made sense, but was scary as the incline was steep. 

He asked if we had anything we could wedge under the tires to give us traction.  Horses in tow standing calmly at the end of their lead ropes, we surveyed the compartment in the back of the trailer which housed grooming tools, water buckets, and essential horse stuff like towels and fly spray.  Nothing in that cubby that would be firm enough to help us.  Next, we checked out the living quarters area which housed the roundpen, my portable sign we zipped tied to the roundpen panels, and all the horse-safe toys we’d be using for activities.  Leaning on the wall near the bump-out were two pieces of pressed wood.  We had them in the trailer to create a make-shift table to sign waivers and for spreading out our wisdom horse reflective card deck.  We excitedly grabbed the 4’ x 4’ panels, jamming them on an angle under two of the rear tires. 

I took Al’s lead rope from Amber, moving back to where there was more yummy emerging grass.  Amber hopped back into the truck again and proceeded to drive forward, then reverse.  The boards held and she gently moved the trailer up to flat ground. Mission accomplished!  We tied Tigg and Al to the metal “U” loops on the side of the trailer.  Fortunately, Amber had a lot of experience with tying horses and was confident they would both safely stand when neither of them challenged the lead rope or pulled back trying to get loose. 

Just then an older model blue four-door Chrysler bounced up the dirt road.  It was the Courtney from the Conference.  We excitedly explained our harrowing adventure. She apologized for not realizing the area they recommended for us would not work.  She authentically shared her gratitude that we figured it out and everyone was safe.  Being an outdoor educator herself, she shared with us that she could relate to troubleshooting through unanticipated experiences in nature!     

One key to our success was staying present for both ourselves and the horses.  We never panicked or let our emotions interfere with the task at hand.  The how we overcame this challenge solidified our trust in each other, which is there to this day.  Throughout the experience, we had a shared vision, co-creating a clear understanding of what was possible and what wasn’t.  On top of that, Amber and I followed our hill-side mess by delivering a stellar program that the Conference participants raved about! 

Recall a time when something did not go as planned, a time when your vision for the future was interrupted by a situation you did not anticipate.  What actions did you take?

What lessons did you learn from that experience that you apply in your life today?

If you were to offer someone advise about creating a vision, what one thing you would you share that is critical to support them as a visionary?     

DISCONNECT

DISCONNECT

A local social services agency worked with us to provide a three-prong program; we designed two half-day staff trainings at my farm, which sandwiched a program at their facility for the youth they served.  The agency’s mission was to provide safety, sustenance, nurturing and therapeutic interventions to children.  Their services focused on adolescents suffering from the social injustices of abuse and neglect. 

Their students/inmates lived in a 24/7 locked down, gated, guarded facility.  Many of the residents had substance abuse and addiction challenges requiring staff with specializations, certifications, and therapeutic backgrounds.   

When we met with the principal of the school who hired us to provide this in-service training, we discussed at length the importance of her staff investing in themselves and their relationships with one another.  She was clear that one of our key objectives should be for the adults to have their own equine-assisted learning (EAL) experience as a group of co-workers.  She recognized the passion her team had for the kids and their well-being, often at the detriment of their own interests.    

We began our first staff training with a pre-assessment of: “describe your perfect day, your worst day, what you expect from your equine experience, and the closing question of sharing something others likely do not know about you.” 

The perfect day was what anyone would desire, everyone getting along, honest, open and effective communication, and no problems.

The worst day was also pretty predictable, lack of trust/respect/caring, manipulation, deceit, poor communication and boring meetings. 

When only 13 of the 20 participants responded to our last question, this told us that some were uncomfortable sharing with each other, offering a clue to their unhealthy organizational culture. Their lack of personal investment and willingness to be vulnerable highlighted what the principal sought to overcome, that they were not really interested in their own self-improvement as a team, rather, their main focus was on the kids.  She also guided us to make sure our program design supported these educators in transferring their learning from a “wish” to an action, with accountability to themselves and the group.  Little did we realize how obvious it would be in our second staff training that they were primarily interested in the students.  We learned they thought it was much easier (emotionally safer?) to look externally instead of the hard work of personal growth/change.   

The training included several equine-assisted learning activities, sequenced to support them in creating SMART goals, which we planned to revisit in our second in-service training.  SMART is an acronym for setting goals that are Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound. This framework helps create clear, actionable objectives by defining what needs to be done, how to track progress, ensuring the goal is within reach, aligning it with larger objectives, and setting a deadline for completion.  

We provided a two-day equine-assisted learning experience for the residents at their facility.  In addition to the educational staff that were participating in these two in-service trainings, the residential staff was also exposed to the power of partnering with horses for personal growth and development. 

Part three of the training was inviting the educators back out to Kaleidoscope for a final half-day.  We invited them to provide us with feedback on their work toward their SMART goals via a survey.  Only six people, out of the twenty participants completed our survey.  Finding that lack of investment very frustrating, I created the following to kick off our meeting:

Once upon a time there was a flock of very, very valuable (and wonderful) chickens.  Now, these were no ordinary chickens, because these chickens worked with the farmer to meet his egg quotas and objectives. 

One way that the chickens learned how to produce enough eggs of the right size was by working together to achieve the larger goal.  Working together was not always an easy task - sometimes the chickens would feel judged, wondering why they should even try and then would shut down and not lay eggs.  On these days even if they laid an egg, it was not one of their best eggs.

On the days that all of the chickens worked together, listened to each other, asked questions when they were unsure of the exact quota, and basically got along, those where the days that made the chickens happy, the farmer happy, and even the farmer’s wife happy (the farmer’s wife didn’t really like chickens at all, so to make HER happy took some doing).

One day near Easter the farmer came to the chickens and told them he had a special quota request – he asked that each chicken lay an egg that was exactly 3 inches tall and 2 inches wide for the next week.  There eggs were going to be used by the Easter bunny, and he was a fussy bunny!  Not a chicken asked a question or even squawked. 

The next day, the farmer was somewhat surprised to find only six chickens had even tried to lay their eggs.  He guessed that maybe the chickens didn’t believe in the Easter bunny, but he wasn’t sure.  He scratched his head and wondered what to do . . . he needed the chickens to continue to work together and life was so much better for everyone when each chicken made a commitment to work for the betterment of the whole group.

Seeing themselves in the chicken story, we were able to transparently move into the rest of the training with them fully present.  Interestingly, the evaluations told us that one of their favorite experiences was the closing activity, making connections by tossing a ball of yarn.

We invited the group to become one big circle.  Then, I took a ball of yarn, tossing it to Stacie.  I shared that Stacie and I had a connection because we both loved being equine-assisted facilitators.  She held her end, then tossed the yarn to one of the participants.  She shared that she had a connection to Dan because they had worked together at a different group home years ago.  Dan then tossed it to one of his co-workers, explaining that their connection was that they both lived in the same town.  On and on this went until every person what holding a piece of the yarn ball, the space between the people appearing to be a spider’s web with the multi-colored yarn crisscrossing each other back and forth.

I then produced a pair of scissors from my back pocket, simulating cutting the yarn.  You could hear an audible gasp from several of the participants.  We explained that often we share these invisible ties with each other, sometimes without even realizing it.  The desire to shed light on those connections takes curiosity, engagement, and commitment.  Several of the participants took us up on the offer to take a small piece of yarn with them, “as a symbol of connection and co-operation.”

This simple activity of tossing a ball of yarn held so much emotional power because of the magical combination of the transparency we established through our chicken story, as well as the honest, genuine, and sincere feedback horses always provide.  We moved not only the yarn, we moved the people, from a clear disconnect to a connection that held meaning beyond their shared love for the kids they served.

Recall a situation where there is a clear disconnect between you and your host.  What are the circumstances that led to this mismatch?

What actions have you taken in future experiences to more carefully align your goals with that of your companions?

What advise would you give your future self to further connect you to those persons, places, and things around you?