make this exercise and this whole session become quite useless, awkward, and uncomfortable. On the other hand, I feel even more scared you will open up and really talk about what’s going on. If that happens, it’s possible that whatever comes out might be so messy and difficult that I won’t be able to help or support you in coming to a resolution, which may end up making things worse.”
When I finished talking, I turned to the first person to my right at the table, who happened to be the manager. As he started talking, it was obvious he was uncomfortable. He fumbled through the first minute or so of what he was trying to say, becoming even more uncomfortable—his face turned red, there were long pauses, and he looked at me as if to say, “Do I really have to do this?” Then, all of a sudden after another long pause, he started to talk about his wife, his kids, and some challenges going on at home. As he started to talk about this personal stuff, something dramatically changed in the energy of that room (as is often the case when someone gets real).
He then said, “Look, you know I’m a pretty private guy. I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff at work. Doing this exercise is uncomfortable for me. But, I’ve got all this stressful stuff going on at home, then I come to work and things are so challenging here, not just with the work but due to the fact that we’re not getting along, we’re not communicating, and we don’t seem to trust each other. I know we’ve gotten into a lot of arguments as a team, and I’ve gotten into it with a number of you one-on-one in my office. Even though I often act like it’s your fault, and I’ll admit that I do like to be right—who doesn’t?—the truth is I feel like I’m failing as a leader. If you really, really knew me, you’d know that in all my years of being a manager, I’ve never had this kind of difficulty with any group I’ve worked with, and I don’t really know what to do.”
It was an amazing moment of realness and vulnerability for him and the entire team. His authentic expression gave everyone in the room permission to open up and get real themselves. As we went around the table, each of the other seven people on this team (all of whom happened to be men, by the way) really lowered their waterline and shared what was going on in their lives, how they were feeling about work and the team, and whatever else they wanted to say to each other. They got real in a vulnerable way.
When we finished the exercise, I looked at everyone in the group and said, “I want to acknowledge each of you for your courage and willingness to get real.” Then I asked a simple but important question: “From this place where we are right now, what do we need to talk about, address, and resolve over these next few hours for you guys to feel safe to be yourselves with one another and work through your conflicts?”
We proceeded to have a conversation over the next few hours about the issues they had identified—not a theoretical discussion about authenticity, communication, and trust, but a real conversation about what was going on for them as individuals and as a group, and how they could be real and trust each other in a genuine way. It was beautiful.
They didn’t miraculously transform from being a non-trusting, dysfunctional team with everyone protecting themselves into being a high-performing team where people felt total freedom to be themselves, speak their truth, and trust one another completely in the span of a few hours. However, what they had done gave them permission to be real with one another and themselves, which was incredibly valuable and empowering. In doing so, they cracked the door open to a deeper level of trust and communication, which made a big difference.
They still had some work to do to repair their relationships, resolve conflicts, and open up lines of communication in a sustainable way. So I stayed in touch with them over the next few
Mungo Park, Anthony Sattin