The Art of Coaching

by Elena Aguilar

  Complete the statement: In my next life I want to …

  Storytelling

  Storytelling is one of the most powerful tools we can use when working with individuals and groups. Stories can bring people together, create deep wells of empathy, facilitate the release of emotions, and help us create narratives in which we are powerful, resilient, and transformed. When clients tell a story to a coach, they also communicate raw data about feelings and beliefs. We can use this information to determine our next move: to predict what kind of coaching approach might help our client, or what kind of activity might be useful to engage in.

  I love stories, I love creating, reading and telling them. But stories are not real—they are simply an interpretation of some things that happened. Perhaps that's why I love stories—because facts can be interpreted in so many different ways and because we can become our stories. Therefore, we storytellers have tremendous power over how we see our lives and the course of action we take given the interpretation we make. Stories can liberate or they can limit us. A coach can help people surface, question and, redefine their stories.

  I frequently feel that people walk into a coaching session clutching one story and leave embracing a completely different one. When offered a choice, they gladly create something that connects to their core values and to their ultimate goals. My role is to help them see the impact of holding the story they came in with (which is often comforting but limited) and to consider alternatives.

  I frequently use the following prompt: “Tell me a story about …” Clients come to recognize this refrain as an invitation to share experiences and feelings. I'll use this prompt when I hear that a client feels stuck. For example, a principal might express that he feels that he's “tried everything” to get a certain teacher to change her behavior. “Can you tell me a story about a time when you changed one of your own entrenched behaviors? What happened? What helped you change?” My first intention is to help the client get grounded in his or her own previous success. Then I will help the client bridge his experience and learnings to his current challenge.

  Recalling previous positive or successful experiences always makes for powerful story prompts. “Tell me about a time when you were successful with a child,” “Tell me what you love most about your work,” “Tell me a story about a lesson that went better than expected,” “Tell me a story about someone who inspires you.” All of these questions help clients shift their energy and reconnect with their own sources of power. This reconnection can serve as a catalyst toward being able to manage a challenging current reality.

  Another effective approach is to invite a client to tell a story from another person's perspective. This usually follows their own rendition of an event. Daniela (a principal who I'll tell you more about in Chapter Eleven) was very upset by her teachers' behavior at a staff meeting. She had noted that all her teachers, except for Lucinda and Michael, were disrespectful. “So, let's play for a minute—let's create a narrative,” I said. “Imagine that Lucinda goes home tonight and tells her partner about her day. What would she say?”

  Daniela thought for a moment. “She'd probably say, ‘The principal let everyone grade papers, talk amongst themselves and do whatever they wanted. She didn't even tell them to stop. And she doesn't recognize that Michael and I are onboard and supportive.” I followed this by asking Daniela what she'd like Lucinda to go home and say to her partner. Asking clients to tell a story from another person's perspective can be catalytic.

  A third approach in storytelling is to ask a client to create alternate stories to what actually happened. We can ask, over and over, “What if?” and ask the client to change the storyline at our prompt. “Daniela, what could you have done differently in that meeting when you noticed several teachers engaged in conversation while you were sharing information,” I asked. “I could have …,” she responded.

  “And what if they … ?” I pushed on. Daniela brainstormed other alternatives. This kind of imaginative storytelling helps clients envision other actions they could take. It is particularly effective when a client seems to frequently confront similar situations.

  When we inquire about clients' work outside of life, they sometimes tell stories and reveal aspects of their character and personality that can be very useful to reference in coaching. One principal I worked with was a marathon runner: I used running analogies to support her reflection: “At what mile do you often feel like you can't go on? That your legs are giving out? How do you manage those feelings? What do you say to yourself? How do you feel at the end?” Another client had done some acting in college, yet he struggled with performance anxiety in front of his staff. “How did you deal with that kind of anxiety when you were acting?” I asked. He reported that he'd practiced a great deal and then just “flicked an internal switch” and was able to detach from the audience. “Could you try that when you have to speak to your staff?” He agreed and I often used a shorthand code to remind him of this skill, “flick the switch,” I'd say as he'd go into a staff meeting. The more we know about our clients the more we can help them; stories sometimes encourage people to share information that they wouldn't otherwise share. An artful coach finds many ways to prompt storytelling.

  Storytelling can also reveal painful past or present experiences. We invite stories to explore emotions, but sometimes we need to remember that there are limits to the kind of support we can provide. It is not unusual, or even inappropriate, that there are moments when a coach might need to gently suggest that a client consider the support of a mental health provider. On a number of occasions, I have said, “I think that the kind of support you might need with this issue is the kind that a therapist might offer. I'm afraid that I'm not qualified to help you in this way and I want to be sure you can get your needs met. Is that something you think might be helpful for you to pursue?”

  It is to be expected that unresolved issues from our childhoods might show up when we're working with children or other adults. While we want to validate a client's courage in sharing the information they share with us (I have heard stories of child abuse and other trauma) we want to make sure they don't confuse a coach with a therapist, and we want to make sure they get the help that they need. Often, by the time they share this kind of information with a coach they deeply trust us and are receptive to our suggestion. We may be uniquely positioned to guide a client toward the healing that he or she really needs.

  Visual and Artistic Activities

  Using artistic processes can be deeply cathartic and catalytic. Art can help some people quickly get to the heart of an issue and communicate it to others. When we are invited to think in pictures, colors, lines or shapes, we access the part of our brains that “knows” visually (Schwarz and Davidson, 2008, p. 197). This is an untapped source of information and inspiration.

  Collage is one of my favorite activities to do with groups or individuals. For those who feel intimidated by art (those who say, “I can't draw!”) collage is a way to combine images that speak to the nonlinguistic part of our brains. Teachers and principals can create collages with images from magazines that reflect their visions, hopes and dreams. Playing music while creating art can also help people access other ways of thinking.

  Administrators: collaging is a powerful activity to do with a staff at the beginning of the year.

  “How is this coaching?” teachers have asked as I arrive carrying bags of magazines and glue. “My role as a coach is to help you learn more about yourself,” I explain, “to access all the parts of yourself that you can draw on as you work toward transformation. Our creative sides are powerful sources that we often don't tap. I hope to help you connect with those sources.”

  The authors of Facilitative Coaching suggest an activity called “shaping your reality” which can help clients become present, stimulate self-reflection and access their deepest thoughts. Clients are offered a piece of plasticine clay. “Hold the clay in your hand,” I say. “Feel the texture and weight and pay attention to
the temperature of the clay. Smell it. Notice what happens when you put pressure against it in your hand. Attend to how you feel holding the clay. Now let your hands begin to form the clay in any way that your hands choose. Let your hands play with and form the clay.” After a few minutes, ask participants to place the form on the table. “Ask your clay creation to speak to you. Write down what it says to you. Begin by using ‘I’ and let the clay speak in the first person” (Schwarz and Davidson, 2008, p. 215).

  I have used this activity with individuals and groups to help them learn about each other and reflect on issues that surface. In a team of eighth-grade teachers, one teacher who had enthusiastically engaged with this exercise revealed that her clay creation had told her something that no one else had ever had the courage to tell her: “It said I was too hard on the kids, that I'm strict with them and they don't know I care about them. I know this is the truth; I've had a really hard time accepting this.” During the debrief, a coach might use other coaching approaches—a confrontational or cathartic approach to help a client make sense of the experience.

  Incidentally, once they know you have clay, many clients ask for it during a coaching session—it can help them stay focused or relieve anxiety that surfaces. And sometimes, if a client is holding a piece of clay, I'll play with one too—it helps me stay focused.

  Conclusion

  As with any coaching activity that we engage clients in, afterwards we want to elicit their reflections and feedback. We need to know how they experienced the activity, what they learned, and what worked or didn't work. In order to best support clients, and to continue building trust, we need immediate feedback on the activity we engage them in. Furthermore, we need to look for indicators in the following weeks or months that the activities resulted in some changes in behaviors, beliefs, or being. If we lead a client through a series of guided imageries intended to help him develop positive interactions with students, then we need to look for indicators that this is resulting in changed practice. We need to look for these indicators and we also want to invite our clients to be on the lookout for them too.

  Exhibit 10.2 Sample Survey for Principals: Staff Relationship

  How long have you been at this school?

  Rate your overall level of satisfaction at this school:

  Rate your overall level of satisfaction with your principal:

  Check the box which most accurately reflects your feelings in response to the statement:

  Please explain any of the above ratings or comment on any of these questions.

  Exhibit 10.3 Sample Teacher Survey: End-of-the-Year Survey for Students

  Dear Students:

  I need to know what you think about this class and my teaching this year. Your ideas and feelings are very important to me. I'll use this information to make my class better next year. It's important that you are as honest as possible.

  Thank you!

  In the following chart, check the box that most accurately reflects your feelings in response to the statement.

  Please explain any of the above ratings.

  Then please answer the following questions.

  Which project did you enjoy the most this year?

  Tell me about a time in my class when you felt respected.

  Tell me about a time in my class when you felt frustrated.

  What advice can you give me about how to be a better teacher?

  What advice can you give me about changing my class next year?

  Chapter 11

  Directive Coaching Conversations

  Read this when:

  You want strategies to push your client's thinking; you sense that he might need a stronger nudge than the ones you've been trying

  You feel stuck in your coaching and want different ways of engaging in conversation with a client

  When Is Directive Coaching Useful?

  Have you ever heard yourself say something like, “I'm so unlucky!” or “I'll never be able to lose weight (or find a partner or buy a house); I just need to accept that I'll always be fat (or single or a renter)”? When you've heard those thoughts filter through your mind or come out of your mouth, have you also heard a little voice say, “Um… maybe part of the problem is the way you're thinking?” These beliefs, or mental models, prevent us from real change. However, if a coach can address these beliefs and help a client shift the behaviors that emerge from them, then transformation is within reach. One of the highest leverage ways that a coach can work is by interrupting mental models which if left untouched create impenetrable fortresses around transformation. Using the directive strategies (those that John Heron calls “authoritative” approaches) can be a very effective way to interrupt these mental models.

  A coach must hone her ability to recognize when a directive or authoritative approach is called for. This chapter starts with a closer look at mental models and the kinds of storytelling that hold us back. Once we learn to recognize and understand those “symptoms” we'll look at Heron's approaches and consider how and when to use each one.

  A Story about a Principal Who Needed a Directive Coaching Stance

  Daniela was in her third year as principal when I started working with her. The first time I observed her was at a beginning of the year planning day that she led for her staff. The desks were arranged haphazardly in the classroom where the twenty-five teachers met. Daniela sat in a chair amongst her teachers, barely visible from where I sat, and facilitated the morning session. Her volume was low, her voice wavered occasionally, the directions she gave were unclear. At least half the teachers paid no attention: they texted on their phones, scanned through curriculum guides, or carried on low conversations about their summers with their colleagues. Afterwards, Daniela and I met to debrief. She had noticed that the teachers weren't engaged, and said, “See? What did I tell you? They don't respect me.”

  Daniela continued to detail the ways in which her teachers demonstrated their disrespect; her mental model was solid and getting in the way of literal action—she wouldn't stand in front of them or make eye contact with her teachers. And yet, I knew that she was deeply committed to the community of students that she served and wanted to be a powerful leader.

  “Can we explore this, Daniela?” I asked. “Would it be OK if we took a look at your beliefs about your teachers?” She agreed. “Tell me more about why you think that they don't respect you,” I asked.

  “I'm a young principal and there are many veteran teachers. They think I don't know anything. Also, they seem so stuck in their ways. I want to really change things at this school and they don't seem interested.” Within her statements, I heard many assumptions and conclusions. I wanted to bring Daniela to the level of data—at least the data set that she had selected.

  “So when you started here,” I asked, “can you give me some examples of what the teachers said or did that made you feel like they weren't interested in changing?”

  Daniela gave me a number of examples. She seemed to have mentally catalogued her teachers' transgressions, which she acknowledged when she said, “You probably think I'm a little crazy remembering every comment and thing they did.”

  “That must have been hard,” I said.

  “The frustrating thing is,” Daniela replied, “this always seems to happen to me. I just feel like whatever school I've worked at, people don't respect me.”

  This—as you might suspect—is where flood lights saturated my mind. This was a coaching moment when the truth is so bright you feel stunned and can only respond by nodding your head. Whenever you hear “this has happened elsewhere,” you've struck a golden mental model.

  Daniela had a warehouse of data that validated that teachers didn't like her. There were many ways to go with this inquiry. “I'm just curious, Daniela. What would respect look like from one of your teachers?”

  “They wouldn't fight me on everything. They'd do what I ask—I mean, not blindly, but they wouldn't push back on every little thing. They'd also listen to me in meetings, they'
d put away their books and engage in what I ask.”

  “OK,” I said, “So what about this morning? Were any teachers doing any of these?” Around half were.

  “I know what you're saying,” Daniela said. “I know they don't all disrespect me. Lucinda is totally on board, so is Michael. They're model teachers…”

  “OK, but you started off telling me that your teachers don't respect you and that they're rude.”

  “They are.”

  “Well, not all of them.”

  “No, but most of them.”

  “OK. I'm just wondering, is it possible that there could be other ways to understand their behavior? And that perhaps there are behaviors that you're not noticing—like Lucinda's, Michael's, and others' who are engaged?”

  She nodded.

  “Could we explore this some more? We could go on a data quest to notice their actions.” She agreed.

  Over the following months, I helped Daniela gather a range of data including survey responses, observations, and video recordings so that we could see what her teachers were doing during meetings. The first thing that Daniela needed to do was apply a wide-angle lens to her observations of her staff.

  We also explored the notion of respect—what it meant to different people, how we demonstrate it, and the role it plays within a staff. As Daniela's thoughts began to shift what she noticed was that her teachers seemed more respectful. She stood up in front of her staff at meetings. She clarified expectations for behavior (“no texting, no side conversations”), which was appreciated by teachers like Lucinda and Michael. The conclusion she came to was that her teachers, given where they were at in their careers and in the context of their school, needed her to show up differently as a leader. When she was clear and direct about how she wanted them to engage in meetings, they responded. However, had Daniela's mental model remained intact, she wouldn't have been able to institute the instructional reforms she envisioned.