When I facilitated a group of new managers in Brisbane, we did a role-play. It was a small course – only five participants – so while two people performed the role play the others observed, poised to give feedback at the end.
Role-plays are, at best, awkward. They feel “lame-O” (you won’t find a definition of that word anywhere, so if you want to know what it means, do a role-play). That said, I am a strong advocate of role plays. They provide the opportunity to practice a skill and, in particular, to engage your subconscious mind in your development. Remembering what to say and how to say it is easy in theory – you will find the information in a book or online. The role play enables you to practice reality and to better cope with the fight/flight/freeze reaction that inevitably follows (essential, because your subconscious cannot tell the difference between make-believe and reality).
We did a meeting that related to the poor performance of the employee. While the scenario was made up, the players made it very realistic: the manager wanted to counsel the employee to change her behaviour to be met by an <loop>incredulous expression, excuse, rebuttal</loop> delivered at breakneck speed and with accusatory tension thrown in. Both players stayed in role for about six to nine minutes and, when they had finished, sought feedback.
“How did you think you went?” I asked the ‘manager’.
“One or two,” she replied, “out of ten.”
I was surprised. It had been a tense meeting and the ’employee’ had played her role well, but for her part, the ‘manager’ appeared thoughtful, listening carefully and, when she was challenged, didn’t flinch. It was a competent performance in the best sense of the word.
The observers’ scores were eight or nine and the feedback all positive, yet the ‘manager’ was unconvinced: “The reason I paused was I could not think of what to say – my brain just went blank.” The resolution of the differences between the scores was that we were just “being nice”.
It remains the furthest gap I have seen between how someone felt about her performance and what happened in the world. Yet your inner view is the one that you are presented with. How do you calibrate to see what is real and what is not?
Firstly, as Ross Fitzgerald told it:
It was Greg the Dentist, who taught me that feelings are not facts. ‘How are you?’ he’d ask when, late at night after a meeting, we’d go to Reppin’s Coffee Shop at Kings Cross. I’d tell him at length how shithouse I was feeling. When I’d pause for breath, he’d say: ‘But how are you?’ ‘I’ve just been telling you’, I’d say. ‘No’, he would respond. ‘You are telling me how you feel. Feelings are not facts. The fact that you feel useless doesn’t mean that you are. The fact that you feel hopeless does not mean that you are.’
My Name is Ross, An Alcoholic’s Journey by Ross Fitzgerald
Secondly, take notes in a journal identifying your physically and psychological feelings. Label them and try to work out the reason they appeared. Then examine whether they are true. So, “I was crap; I’ll never get the hang of this,” is challenged with a more logical and considered: “I didn’t feel comfortable doing that. It was the first time I have done it. It wasn’t an easy task and I was in front of my peer group. The observers can’t all have been nice, so I should take some credit. With practice, I will get better.” For more information on this technique, see Professor Steve Peters excellent book “A Path Through the Jungle.”
Thirdly, trust the process and those giving feedback.
Finally, get a mentor, and speak to him or her about the challenges you are facing.
Just because your internal emotional feedback is blared too noisily doesn’t mean that you cannot cope with it.
Photo credit: Qingbao Meng on Unsplash