The Art of Coaching Read online

  “Words create worlds” (Hartman, 1991). This belief instructs me to listen very carefully, to explore what is possible given the language that a client uses, and to find a high-leverage entry point. It also reminds me to be mindful of every word that comes out of my mouth. If I remember that words create worlds, I can make choices every second that allow me to fulfill my vision for coaching.

  Be here now. In order for me to meet someone where she is, I need to listen very carefully. To do that, I need to be fully present. Clients sense the quality of a coach's attention, and in order for them to take risks, a coach must be fully present. This is challenging to do, but it is a practice that can be developed. Sometimes when I'm distracted during a coaching conversation, I remind myself to “be here now.” I feel calmer and more grounded when I do so, and I know that my clients need that.

  Transformation takes time. Sometimes I get frustrated that the teachers or leaders I'm working with aren't changing fast enough, and then I remind myself, again, that transformation takes time—an undefined amount of time—and that I must be patient. Working from a place of impatience and urgency won't result in a transformed system—it'll simply reproduce what we have now or provide a quick-fix bandage that will not be sustainable. When I remind myself of this, I am able to be in the present with a client, and I can more effectively respond to where he is now and assist him in identifying and taking the step that comes next for him.

  Justice, justice shalt thou pursue (Deuteronomy 16:20). I experience this belief as a mandate. It demands that my work be driven by a pursuit of justice and pushes me to explore my notions about justice. What is justice? What would it look like in our schools? How do we get there? And do the ends ever justify the means? These questions are especially important because I often feel impatient with the rate of change. It also helps me make personal decisions in coaching—who to coach, how to coach, what boundaries I draw. And it keeps me focused on the end goal—justice, which helps me manage the desires of my own ego and the results and beliefs I am attached to.

  The journey is the destination. This statement follows the last for a very important reason—so that I don't get trapped in the-end-justifies-the-means thinking. It reminds me that every action on the journey of transformation needs to be imbued with kindness, fairness, and compassion. Sometimes putting this principle into action presents ethical challenges and pushes me to consider questions such as: Would I coach a principal who is intent on firing her whole staff because they are ineffective? What if I agree with her that her teachers are not serving children? Can justice be pursued by traveling down this road? This belief, however, reminds me that for every action there is a reaction, that we are making the future today, and that if I envision a just, fair future, I must behave justly and fairly today.

  Be unattached to outcome. Given that justice is the outcome, this statement makes me very uncomfortable, but it does so in a way that I welcome. I am attached to the outcome of transformation, but I also don't know what that outcome is or what it might look like (beyond a few characteristics), so as we move forward on this journey, I need to avoid getting attached to the possible outcomes that arise.

  For example, I remind myself of this belief when I've been coaching a principal to lead a big meeting with her staff. It could be a meeting that moves the school in a positive direction, if she can carry it off. In my mind, as I'm coaching her to prepare for this meeting, I begin thinking about how important it is that she does this well, that all hinges on her ability to reach certain outcomes on that day—I develop a story about what should happen. Tumbling into this train of thought not only takes me away from being fully present with the principal, but it also locks me into thinking that there is a single right outcome. Perhaps there's an even better outcome that I can't imagine? Maybe the meeting falls apart and the agenda is scrapped and a real, honest conversation ensues among the staff and a new, more powerful outcome is reached. I cannot know the future; I cannot determine the “right” outcome for this group of people.

  When I get attached, there's usually a part of my own ego that's getting sucked in. This belief reminds me to be humble and open on this journey and that I don't know what is right—and that's a hard one to give up. But from this stance, I can see infinite numbers of possibilities for coaching actions to take.

  We can transform our education system. I have made a choice to believe that transformation can be realized. I struggled with this idea, because for a while I didn't really think it could happen. I'd try, I thought, I'd give it my best shot—but I felt pretty hopeless and cynical most of the time. Then I decided to stand in a place of neutrality—I don't know if we can do this. Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless of whether or not we would prove able to transform our schools, I worked toward that end. Maybe this was an example of being unattached to outcome, but operating from this stance felt a little dull and lifeless. It didn't help me.

  With our lives we make our answers all the time, to this ravenous, beautiful, mutilated, gorgeous world.

  Reverend Victoria Safford (Loeb, 2004, p. 9)

  Now I work from a place of believing that we can transform our schools and heal our world. I have more energy when I come from this belief, I feel more true to myself, and I believe I'm a more effective coach. I'm much more likely to convince others to become leaders on this journey if I come from this belief. In this place, I can access tremendous reserves of energy. I can inspire others. I can share the “data” that I gather that makes me believe that this is possible. I see evidence everywhere that we can do this. I see transformational moments all around us. I have seen individual schools transform and the people within them. We need to transform our schools, and I believe we can do this.

  Identifying and Using Your Coaching Beliefs

  Administrators: teachers and other educators working in schools will be empowered by articulating their belief systems.

  I encourage all coaches to articulate the beliefs from which they want to work. Start by identifying your core values. Then consider how a core value translates into a belief statement and how those show up as actions. If one of your core values is appreciation, then a corresponding belief statement might be “Always acknowledge the positive,” which could guide your actions in a coaching conversation.

  After you formulate your set of beliefs, try them on—stand inside of them and speak from them in different coaching situations. See how they feel. See which ones give you the most energy, power, clarity, and groundedness. Notice which resonate. These questions might help you reflect on your belief statements:

  Does the belief bring you a sense of relief?

  Do you feel more empowered when you stand in the belief?

  Does it open more paths for action? Does it point to new directions?

  Does your belief align with your core values?

  Does it allow you to fulfill your vision for coaching?

  I print my coaching manifesto on small pieces of card stock. I carry them in my bag, tuck them into my notebooks, and sometimes stick them in my pocket. They reside with my vision statement (see Chapter Two) and remind me where I want to come from.

  Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there.

  Rumi, thirteenth-century poet (Banks, 1995, p. 35)

  My list of beliefs has changed over the years. You can change yours, too. The point is to be mindful of the beliefs from which we're working and to notice the effect of working from those beliefs. Then we can make a conscious choice about the actions we take.

  Chapter 4

  What Must a Coach Know?

  Read this chapter when:

  You're a new coach feeling overwhelmed by the complicated situations you're encountering and you want some analytical lenses to look through

  You're interested in the theoretical foundations of transformational coaching

  You're an experienced coach looking to deepen your practice and refine your analyses

  You're a principal looking f
or additional ways of tackling dilemmas at your site

  Introducing New Coaching Tools: Coaching Lenses

  Transformational coaching draws from a number of theories, and while I don't want to drown you in them, I want you to gain a sense of which ones are most useful. When we're not working from a sound theoretical basis, we're just throwing strands of spaghetti on the wall to see if they stick.

  In this chapter, I'll introduce a set of tools to help us think in different ways about the situations we encounter. These tools are based on theories about adult learning, emotional intelligence, systems thinking, change management, systemic (or structural) oppression, and inquiry thinking. I will introduce you to these theories and illustrate their application. These tools will be referenced throughout the book, so this chapter is meant to provide an overview and the background you'll need to make sense of them when they show up.

  A Story about a Teacher Who Seems to Struggle with Classroom Management: Part 1

  It was late October before Mr. Delgado, a new Spanish teacher at Turtlerock Middle School, accepted my offer of coaching support. The principal had been asking me to work with Mr. Delgado since the first week of school, when he had observed the teacher's class and left with major concerns about his classroom management skills. Since then, parent complaints were piling up, students were being sent to the office en masse, and Mr. Delgado looked miserable most of the time. However, the teacher missed our scheduled appointments and deflected my inquiries about how he was doing.

  I knew that the principal had had concerns about hiring Mr. Delgado, an Afro-Cuban man in his sixties who spoke English with a British accent. He had taught Spanish for several years in a local public high school, but his former supervisor recommended him with reservations: nice guy, she said, but weak classroom management. However, unable to find another candidate, the principal had hired Mr. Delgado just two days before school started. “‘Weak’ was an understatement,” the principal shared after observing Mr. Delgado when school started: “It's chaotic in there. He has no authority, no command. They're running all over him.”

  One Monday afternoon, Mr. Delgado showed up at my office door. “OK, I'll accept your offer of help,” he said. “Could you start by coming to observe me? I think you should see what I'm dealing with. Fourth period would be good.”

  “Of course,” I said, surprised by his openness. Many teachers are reluctant to have me observe so early in a coaching relationship. “I can come tomorrow.”

  The following day I settled into a chair on the side of Mr. Delgado's classroom a few minutes before class started. As students entered the class, Mr. Delgado welcomed his eighth graders and passed out a worksheet. “You have fifteen minutes to work on this assignment,” Mr. Delgado said in a soft voice. “Try to work alone, but if you need help, you can work with a partner.”

  About eight minutes into the class, Davontae, a tall, African American boy walked in, slamming the door as he entered, muttering a string of curse words under his breath. He ignored Mr. Delgado when he was asked to sign the tardy book, he sat in a seat in the back of the class, again ignoring Mr. Delgado's reminder of his assigned seat, and he began to make loud disruptive comments: “What the fuck we doing today? This is boring-ass shit. I hate Spanish. I don't want to learn this stupid language,” and so on.

  Mr. Delgado seemed to ignore this behavior and attempted to help a girl sitting in the front row. Davontae turned his worksheet into an airplane and threw it across the room, hitting another student in the back of the head.

  “Settle down,” Mr. Delgado said in English, his voice barely audible above the rising din of the eighth graders. Several students began throwing paper airplanes. Mr. Delgado's voice rose a little and he called out again, “Settle down, please!” Davontae mimicked Mr. Delgado's accent, repeating his mandate in a mocking tone. Other students laughed and elaborated on the mimicry. Davontae rested his feet on the back of the chair in front of him and continued making snide remarks about the teacher. A girl in the front row shouted to her classmates: “Shut the fuck up, you idiots! I want to learn!” Davontae mocked her and she rose from her seat. “Sit down,” Mr. Delgado said to her. “What you gonna do about him, then?” she said.

  “Davontae, you're going to have to leave,” Mr. Delgado said, his volume rising a little.

  “I don't want to leave. Things are just getting fun,” Davontae said.

  “If you cannot behave and demonstrate an appropriate attitude, then you are going to have to leave,” Mr. Delgado said. “Please take your things now and go.”

  A paper airplane hit Mr. Delgado in the back of the head. A loud “Ooooh” came from the students, who started shouting about who had done it. Mr. Delgado's frustration was becoming more and more visible: his hands were shaking, his brow was furrowed. “Go, now!” he shouted at Davontae.

  “Don't scream at me!” Davontae yelled. “That's disrespectful,” the student mocked.

  Mr. Delgado grabbed Davontae's backpack and threw it toward the door. “Get out of my class!” He yelled at the student. “Get out now! You don't belong here!”

  “Don't touch my stuff,” Davontae shouted, rising up and standing taller than the teacher. “Don't you ever touch my stuff again, or I'll mess you up. You don't know who you're dealing with.”

  “If you don't leave now, I'm calling security,” Mr. Delgado said as he walked toward the phone. Davontae stood still, staring at the teacher. Several students made provocative noises. Davontae slowly wandered toward the door as Mr. Delgado stood with his trembling hand on the phone. As Davontae opened the door, Mr. Delgado yelled, “And don't come back unless you want to learn Spanish.”

  After Davontae left, students settled down fairly quickly. Mr. Delgado delivered a lesson on the musical instruments of Cuba. He played music, tried to talk to the class about the origins of the music, and offered a couple dozen new vocabulary terms. He did not reach his stated objective, the sequence of the lesson seemed disjointed, and fewer than half the students completed the worksheet he gave them. Davontae was suspended.

  I left Mr. Delgado's class feeling overwhelmed. I had no idea where I'd start my debrief with Mr. Delgado later that afternoon. Fortunately, I had reserved some time to process and plan in between my observation and our debrief. And fortunately, I have my massive set of tools—what I call the Coach's Optical Refractor—to help me think through what I'd observed and construct a plan for my conversation with Mr. Delgado.

  I will now introduce you to the Coach's Optical Refractor and describe its six lenses. After I describe each lens, I'll apply it to Mr. Delgado's class. Finally, I'll share the questions that I created to ask Mr. Delgado, along with our debrief conversation.

  Essential Framework 2: The Coach's Optical Refractor

  Optometrists use an instrument called an “optical refractor” in an eye examination to test vision. It's a massive device with six different lenses and multiple settings. Optometrists, concerned with visual systems, understand that a multitude of factors must be considered in order to understand how a person's vision is working. The final prescription will contain at least six numerical specifications, but an annual visit to the optometrist is necessary, as our vision changes and our prescription may change.

  The refractor is an apt metaphor for the primary diagnostic instrument that coaches can use. Our work is about seeing a situation from different perspectives, in different ways. Our naked eyes alone are not powerful enough to see all that we need to see, to diagnose root causes or complex intertwining of issues. The first five lenses in the Coach's Optical Refractor are staples of the National Equity Project (NEP) coach's tool bag—the NEP authored the descriptors you'll soon read and I'm very grateful for their permission to share them here. The sixth lens, emotional intelligence, is one that I added based on the work of Daniel Goleman.

  The six lenses in the Coach's Optical Refractor are

  Inquiry

  Change management

  Systems thinking

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p; Adult learning

  Systemic oppression

  Emotional intelligence

  First five Coaching Lenses: © 2007 National Equity Project. All rights reserved. Used with permission. Credit Lines/Trademarks

  But what is a lens? And how can we use one? The National Equity Project (2007) defines it this way:

  A “lens” is a metaphor to communicate the idea of looking at evidence from various perspectives. The meaning of the metaphor is that you can look at the same thing through different lenses and construct very different interpretations of the same reality. Each of us does this every day—it is how we individually and collectively make sense of the world around us. We know that we will define solutions based on the way that problems get defined. Similarly, we will define problems according to our interpretations or assessment of what we observe. For this reason, learning and applying these and other lenses is fundamental to coaching for equity.

  The lenses are based on theories that attempt to explain human and organizational behavior. No one model alone is sufficient. Every situation requires that we look from multiple perspectives and examine relationships, individuals, institutions, and phenomena through multiple lenses. When we look at a situation through a particular lens, some things come into focus, while others are blocked out. The National Equity Project cautions: “This is the benefit of applying each lens as well as the inherent liability in using only one. At the same time, these lenses are interrelated and contain overlapping ideas. The purpose in using them is to think critically, particularly with regard to equity, and take informed action” (NEP, 2007, p. 1).