Yearview Mirror: Nathan Woolard

Three years ago, I had the opportunity to take part in a 360 evaluation. For those unfamiliar, you’re given the opportunity to evaluate yourself on 40 unique topics – You essentially take a test about yourself. From there, you invite 7-9 colleagues, supervisors, and subordinates to provide input about you based on the same 40 topics. It’s an amazing process because most people tend to underestimate themselves as a whole. Think about that. Most people tend to underestimate themselves when it comes to their strengths, abilities, work performance, management capabilities, connecting with colleagues, etc. … I assume that there is likely a connection between experience and how most people describe vulnerability and feelings of inadequacy. If you’ve ever seen Brene Brown’s TED Talk, the Power of Vulnerability, then you may be able to make sense of the connection. If not, give it a quick watch, it’s worth the time.

However, although we tend to underestimate our ability as a whole, there’s usually a category or two that each person seems to overestimate their own ability. It’s usually surprising, but most importantly it presents your opportunity for growth in a really clear way. The two categories I unknowingly struggled with was empathy and compassion.

The thought of that hit me right in the feels. It’s not uncommon for a person who really respects the process and engages in the behavior to feel a few emotions. At first I was a bit defensive, followed by a bit embarrassed, and ultimately I finally accepted this reality and knew I had to change it, but how?

Last year I was given an opportunity to engage my demons through a Peer Consultation using the adaptive leadership model. For those unfamiliar, the adaptive leadership model was developed by a couple of faculty at the Kennedy School at Harvard. The key to it all is determining the difference between technical problems and adaptive challenges. An example might be ‘wanting to lose weight.’ The technical solution is eating healthy and exercise. The adaptive challenge is making the lifestyle change to allow for consistent diet and exercise. An adaptive challenge is tough because it usually requires a change in behavior, beliefs, or how you view the world. They’re deep and messy challenges.

The peer consultation program was developed by the Cambridge Leadership Institute to explore adaptive challenges. I was fortunate to go through the process among a group of 5 strangers. It’s a 30 minute process per person using a series of timed events. At one point the presenter is required to turn their back to the group and spend 15 minutes just listening. Not to say a word, make any faces, just listen. It’s through that process that the groupmates both discuss opportunities for you to reconcile your adaptive challenge, but, more importantly, unearth multiple interpretations. The process has a way of really forcing you to face your challenge without the ability of being defensive. It really makes you think in a way that is unnatural and many haven’t experienced before.

This past year, I’ve attempted to really digest that experience and consider the advice from my groupmates. In reflection, I’ve noticed that my deliberate efforts to understand emotion and empathy have lead me on a journey of understanding and listening. The best I can explain it is I now try to “feel” a conversation I have with someone. This behavior in conversation has seemingly become more and more natural. Prior to having this experience, or unearthing my own insecurities I wasn’t aware this was a problem. Through this process, I’ve become more human. My relationship with the world has changed, and as a result, my worldview. I’ve found myself resistant to jumping to conclusions, making acquisitions, or angering easily in conversations. This change in behavior resulted in a more serene 2016 altogether.

My advice to someone interested in pursuing a New Year’s Resolution in 2017 to consider this process. Do you have an answer to the age old interview question, “What is your weakness?” And, do you have an answer. Not a 2-minute, made-for-TV Hallmark answer but an authentic understanding of your own adaptive challenges. If you were to set out on an introspective journey to solve that problem, what might that process look like? How might your change in behavior impact your worldview? It will take your entire 2017 and then some, but I am believe it will pave the way for a more enlightening 2018. Best of luck!

Cheers,

Nathan Woolard

America and the Empathy Gap

This is part one in a four-part series about our country and its relationship to what I perceive to be some of our greatest challenges. In this first installment, we will analyze what I call the empathy gap. As we move through the series, I look forward to your insight and thoughts. More than anything though, I look forward to hearing how we can work together to address the toughest issues facing our nation.

As Americans, our greatest challenge may be our inability to put ourselves in the shoes of others. Collectively, we donate more money to philanthropic causes than any other country in the world. To me, this means we are aware of the road traveled by the downtrodden, the hurt, and those lost in the proverbial sea. According to the Chronicle of Philanthropy, half of us made a tax deductible donation last year. Again, to me this means half of us have taken the first step in an effort to solve societal ills. The question that needs to be answered concerns our reasoning for giving. Is it born out of guilt, a desire to be seen as someone who cares, altruism, sympathy, or does it come from a place of empathy?

Another question needing to be answered focuses on donations. Are donations enough? As a fundraiser, I believe financial or in-kind gifts are passive in nature. They don’t require much effort on your behalf. Depending on the organization and the quality of their development staff, you may never meet those impacted by your support. Which means, all you’ve done is write a check and move on with your life. Sure, you’ve responded to a well-crafted ask in the form of printed materials and/or a face-to-face meeting. Perhaps you browsed through an agency’s blog or attended an event. Something tugged at your heart and you made an investment. Maybe you related to a story. Maybe you wished such things didn’t happen in the world. Maybe you’ve been there yourself and are working to ensure no one else has to endure the same sort of hardships. Even if all of these things are true, you didn’t do much to truly engage with those impacted by your gift. You were never asked to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. You were never really provided an opportunity to empathize.

This is more important than you might think. In my opinion, our empathy gap is more important than the trade gap, deficit spending, or the national debt. A lack of empathy translates to turning the other cheek to homelessness. It leads to shaming of welfare recipients. It leads toward turning a blind eye to rape, torture, homophobia, xenophobia… The list could go on and on, but a lack of understanding for those experiencing hardships leads to bad public policy, damning, and demonizing. A country and its citizenry cannot progress if some are left behind and made to feel less than.

Without a doubt, there are always those who strive to take advantage of the system. For every person taking advantage of public assistance meant for the poor and disabled, there is another benefiting from corporate welfare. On both ends of the spectrum, we’ve created a welfare state. We absolutely need to reform both systems, but before we go about the business of removing millions from the welfare system, I ask that we work to know more than ourselves. In practice, what does this mean? Beyond donations, how does one achieve such a thing?

For obvious and logistical reasons, this is easier said than done. It is going to take time and a sense of commitment, but if we do a few small things, we can deepen our empathy, reshape public policy, and perhaps find areas where the system can be improved.

The best way to deepen your empathy is to volunteer. If you truly want to know the other, work alongside nonprofit employees who are committed to systemic change. Roll-up your sleeves and join long term volunteers. Ask for their guidance and their opinion. Volunteer directly with those impacted by services provided by both nonprofits and various levels of government. Working at a soup kitchen changed my view on homelessness. Spending time talking with youth who called the streets home, altered my view on runaways and a system meant to protect youth. Joining other volunteers to take a census of people who live on our city streets, inspired me to vote for politicians who understood and lobbied for affordable housing. Meeting people impacted by drug addiction, mental health, a failing economy, and a lack of housing changed everything for me. Without getting to know the other by volunteering, I don’t know how I would have been afforded this opportunity.

As I have discussed here before, in grad school I found myself deeply moved by those impacted by sex and labor trafficking. I began, as most others do, by reading some articles and books on the subject, but this alone didn’t do much to deepen my empathy. If I really wanted to shake off the comfortable, I needed to learn more. I needed to talk with survivors and those working on the front line. This lead me to an organization called “Seattle Against Slavery.” Attending various workshops, I was able to accomplish my goal. I heard from survivors of sex trafficking, police who run stings on Backpage.com, and nonprofit professionals doing the hard work of changing policy, advocating, and trying to change the mindset of the public. Once I heard their stories, it was hard to look the other way. It profoundly changed me. Now, I volunteer for Seattle Against Slavery. While I have never been trafficked and I don’t have any friends or family members who have known such horror, my empathy was tapped. I saw an injustice and something within me demanded change.

Volunteerism and public forums may lead you to advocacy and, maybe, more meaningful donations. I believe if we set out on a mission to know the other, it is virtually impossible to not have our worldview changed. I also believe it is impossible not to have our sense of empathy expanded. When these things happen, I think we have laid the groundwork to be better citizens and gentler human beings to our fellow men. This isn’t a radical idea. Every major religious figure who is worshipped the world over has preached such an idea. I am just continuing that call. “Judge not, lest thee be judged.” To which I would add, do not decide what is right for your fellow man without first walking a mile in his shoes.

Be good to each other,

-Nathan 

I Cry A Lot

I cry a lot.

As in, pretty much daily.

I’ve not been that girl up to this point in my life. I can schedule it fairly well and I’m a quiet crier, so that works well for everyone. I have people in my life who continually remind me that crying is not a sign of weakness, and that I am still the badass I hope to be.

But that’s how I feel about teaching. I cry about it.

Not once has a student hurt my feelings or made me so angry that the tears showed up. It’s been concern for whether I’m good enough, if they have food or power, or my replaying of yet another conversation about immigration and did-I-handle-it-well-enough-because-my-GOD-it-has-to-stop. I cry picturing them watch dads pack to leave for Guatemala and then bravely come to school the next day only to be yelled at for not having a pencil and HOW COULD THEY BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE? WELL?! I have more questions than answers, and, while I don’t feel like a fraud I don’t want to ever feel like I’m finished becoming a teacher.

Because If I do, then I think I’ve failed them. I’m already terrible at grading. I let it pile up and stress out about it. I hate tests, although I get the value in assessments. I forget to double-check their uniforms sometimes. But if I stop being their teacher, then I’ve given up on them and I didn’t sign up to bail. There are enough other adults who will do that, or who already have.

I don’t teach for the summers off. First of all, I teach at a year-round school, but we do still have a long summer. I also work in the summer and barely started teaching. I’m brand new. I don’t do it for the hours. I’m not a morning person and there is no office door to close and shut down—that’s new to me. And loud to me. So loud. They don’t stop talking. It’s fascinating, really. I haven’t ever chosen a job for the money.

I teach both because of a couple of terrible teachers I had and wonderful ones. Both had a massive impact on who I am. The wonderful ones have actually become friends of mine as adults, a fact I am incredibly grateful for. It’s a damn good feeling to be able to tell someone you’re doing something because they mattered to you as a teenager, and still do. They still make a difference, because I got to keep them and they overshadowed any negative experience. Both are coaches, and I believe that has something to do with their approach, at least to me.

The terrible ones told me I was a bad writer. They said I didn’t understand poetry. I was allowed to think for myself at home and was [allegedly] a respectful kid, so it was very confusing to me that English would be the subject that I would struggle most years. That I wouldn’t be allowed to take Creative Writing because I wasn’t creative enough or a writer made me angry, and it hurt. I wanted to be a writer for a living until a high school teacher said to pick a new career. I should’ve told my parents, but I let a teacher tell me who I was. I thought she knew.

I want to know them, as much as they’ll let me. And if they won’t or can’t, they can come back as long as I’m here. There were teachers who saw and knew me, but I listened to the wrong one.  

Now, a list of the most frequently said phrases that I say.  Some are not surprising; all are true [in no particular order]:

·        Pull yourselves together!

·        Hallway procedures—you guys know this.

·        It’s—insert date—you know the rule.

·        Take your hood off.

·        Do not play fight.

·        We don’t run indoors.

·        I hope you do become a rapper; you better learn how to write.

·        I trust you.

·        I’ll help you, but you have to help yourself FIRST.

You are not dumb, this is hard. 

-Stephanie Jensen

Where Has Our Empathy Gone?

Ignorance is bliss. So is blame, apparently, since it’s been going around so freely lately.  Which is why I’ve been searching desperately for where I can find the empathy we’ve lost.

I’m the first one to admit that I’m a control freak. Classic Type A personality. And it’s not easy for us to accept when we’re wrong. So that’s what makes it so easy to blame others for our discomfort, anger, or inability to understand the emotional side of a situation or opinion. This stubbornness (so I’ve been told) is part of why it’s also hard to empathize naturally because it’s not easy for us to show our feelings.

Here’s one of Brené Brown’s many deep thoughts that helps further explain the idea behind why empathy is so hard.

After some recent reflection, I have some questions that have really been weighing heavy on my heart. When did it become ok not to care about others? To be so blasé about other humans and who they are or where they come from in life experience?

And why?

Despite my Type A disposition, I’m fighting to develop and show my emotions more. Due to this, the more I see in the news each day, the sadder I become. And it’s not a “oh no, that’s too bad” passive sadness. It’s me sitting and contemplating how long I can hold in crying until I can’t take it anymore. It’s being so speechless, I just end up staring at the person being non-empatheic, hoping if I do it hard enough, they feel the pain that their words are inflicting.

I don’t know why I’ve been so drawn to this, but after talking to one close confidant, it might be because this has been called on my heart for a reason. Maybe I’m supposed to be the voice others don’t often hear. Maybe this is how I learn to grow as a person and in my faith. Maybe I’ve got a job at the UN in the future and I’m just getting prepped for it now (I can only dream).

So let’s at least take the first two ideas and make them real.

While this doesn’t feel good most days to be crushed by the plight of my fellow man, I can tell you it’s given me a new outlook on what patience is. I’ve never been good with it, but when I know the only way I can get another person to listen is by waiting and carefully showing them a varying point of view, patience is key my friend. Like a dog waiting for the signal to get the treat on it’s nose, the reward from getting someone to understand where you’re coming from, agree or disagree aside, is such a great release.

What if I, along with others who understand this feeling, am able to use this for good? The UN may seem far-fetched, but it’s not out of my realm of thought. I like the idea that we all can “use our powers for good” as a superhero would say. And  yet we don’t even have to be superheroes to be good. We just have to be examples of understanding and open to discussing our side of the coin with calmness. Being an ambassador to those who may not have ever heard my side is like my own version of the UN right here where I am.

My idea of my religion has been tested as well. While I’ve always identified as a Christian, having others portray my choice as less than empathetic has really pushed me. And surprisingly in a good way towards my faith. Because while others may pick the pieces they like to support their argument, I’ve been going back and reading or re-reading many pieces of scripture to actually see what God has said. It’s pushed me to rely on His word and not the imperfectness of humans. I work on reading whole passages to get “the rest of the story”, like a regular Paul Harvey. Even then, I’m left to wait for His words to reach me in the way they were intended, not necessarily in the way we as man interpret it. This, I believe, is the key to the growth I long to have for the rest of my life.

During this season of patience, I have to remind myself, in this world, nothing is going to be easy (#adultingishard). We’re all human. We will never be perfect. To try to be is not only futile, but just plain extra work and stress that I think we can agree we really don’t need.

But we can be better. We have to be. I believe in it. I know empathy is there on the inside, lighting up people’s hearts. I’m just waiting to see the flicker turn to flame and come out in their actions with more diligence and care than ever before.

Perpetually undefined,

Elizabeth Jone