When my son was in the second grade, I volunteered in his class. It was a classroom with eight very gifted, yet very challenging, young boys. One particular afternoon, one of the little boys in the class was particularly cranky and angry. I asked the teacher, “How do you reach him?” And she said, “It’s easy. I just give him a genuine compliment.” I replied, “How do you do that on a day like today? He hasn’t done anything to compliment.” And she said, “I come up with something, even if it’s just, ‘I like your t-shirt,’ or ‘I like the way you part your hair.'” Incredulous, I repeated that to her, “I like the way you part your hair?!” “Yes, on the days he’s so upset, so angry, so downtrodden, on those days he’ll accept any compliment. He’s so hungry for someone to notice something positive about him, to throw him a bone, even saying, ‘I like the way you part your hair’ is helpful to him.”
Wow. I found this amazing, and I gave it a try. I looked for big, important things that he and the other students were doing, but when I couldn’t find any, I would say something simple like, “I’m glad you’re thinking about the assignment. I can see the wheels are turning in your head.” Or, “You have your paper out. That’s the first step.”
I find this strategy to be true in my work life as well. Sometimes it’s really difficult for me to find something positive to say to some of the people I have been hired to coach. They don’t want to be there. They don’t want coaching. They never signed up for it. They’re not really motivated by the possibility of growth. In these moments, I say the simplest things, the most obvious things. “Thank you for showing up. Thank you for giving it a try. Thank you for considering what I’m saying.”
Unfortunately, the negative stuff takes up more of our time and our energy. But when we focus on the positive, the positives grow. Here are some things for you to notice:
I like that you followed up.
I like that you started the conversation.
Thank you for drawing it to my attention.
Thank you for doing the research that you’ve done.
Thank you for telling me that you’re going to need some help.
Thank you for letting me know you need more time.
And if all else fails you can always resort to, “I like the way you part your hair.” It will work for all but the bald ones.
It was a foggy, icy day. I was driving on I-95, my son Jeffrey in the passenger seat. We were heading back from North Carolina after visiting colleges.
I broke the silence, “Jeffrey, what did you think of High Point?”
“It was OK,” came his monotone reply.
“That’s it? Can you tell me more?,” I nudged.
“You know, Mom, I’m not really sure I want to go to college.”
This was the moment I had been waiting for since we started touring colleges. Finally, an opportunity to address his ambivalence about his future. I pulled off at the next exit, looked him in the eye and said, “Next year, everything is going to change. Some of your friends are going to college. Some will join the military, and others will get jobs. But one thing’s for sure: everything is going to change, no matter what you do. So, you have a choice – you can either drive the change and figure out what you want, or, you can dragged along by it.”
I was ready for this conversation because I work regularly with people who are at a crossroads and gripped by inertia. And here’s what I know:
Some people are drivers of their futures. They say to themselves, this is what needs to happen, and they create a vision. Others just seem to get dragged along. There are a lot of things that you can’t control in this life, but you can control whether you’re a driver or you’re a dragger.
In order to create change, you need to create the vision. If you want to be more efficient, you have to see yourself being efficient. If you want to advance your education, you have to envision yourself in night school, making it all work. For those retiring, envision helping in the food bank or hitting the perfect golf stroke on a Monday morning! Envision yourself in the new situation.
Jeffrey chose to be a driver and the transition turned out to be pretty simple. He chose a school, started wearing the clothing emblazoned with its logo, and suddenly it became him.
Are you at a crossroads? Grab the wheel and embrace the journey!
This morning, my son Jeffrey suggested we meditate together. “Great,” I replied, “where should we sit?”
“The view is nice from the hotel window, let’s just sit here.” I looked out the window in incredible disbelief. “What the heck?” I thought. And then I said, “What I like about you, Jeffrey, is you see the positive in everything, even parking lots and the backs of buildings.”
He said, “Allow me”, and he pushed the drapes aside a bit more, and gently took my head in his hands, redirecting the way I was looking out the window. Yes, we had two very different views from our hotel room, as his included a sprawling Arizona mountain landscape.
“Wow,” I said, “I could have left this hotel and never realized we had a view!”
I feel like this happens so often in corporate America. Last week I was having coffee with an executive and he shared with me a conflict that had occurred in his office recently.
The client retold that he had said during a meeting, “I think we might be agreeing with each other.” When that didn’t work, he said, “I don’t think we are very far apart here.” Both are statements of finding commonality, and understanding differing points of view.
Unfortunately, and the reason we were meeting for coffee, is that two members of that group were already too incensed and upset to listen. They were unable to have their vision “gently redirected.”
What do you miss when you don’t allow yourself to be “gently redirected?”