Archives for May 2020

As challenging and vulnerable as receiving feedback can be, giving it can also be quite difficult. And for us to be successful leaders, teammates, parents, friends, spouses, and human beings, it’s important to give feedback effectively to those around us.

According to a study conducted by psychologist Tessa West of NYU for the NeuroLeadership Institute, we have an automatic fight-or-flight threat response in our nervous system when we’re receiving feedback, which exists just as significantly when we’re giving it. So, it’s essential to have some compassion for ourselves when we’re in situations where we have to give feedback to others. And it’s also important that we enhance our capacity—emotionally and practically—for giving feedback.

There are four key things to remember when giving feedback to others. Keeping these things in mind can help us get past the defensiveness and self-criticism that is often triggered by feedback, so that it can be well-received and have the positive impact we’re intending.

1. Intention. It’s critical to check in with ourselves about the intention behind our feedback. In other words, why are we giving it in the first place? Do we genuinely want the other person to be more successful? Are we annoyed with this person and want to let them know why? Do we have any conscious or unconscious bias? Are we trying to prove something or defend ourselves? Do we want to control them or the situation?

There are all kinds of reasons why we give feedback to others, and sometimes there is more than one. But being real with ourselves about our motivation can help us determine whether it’s even going to be helpful. Assuming we decide that it is, making sure our intention is genuine and positive will make it more likely that the person will be receptive to it. And by giving feedback to others on our team with positive intention, we set the tone for our culture in this regard.

2. Permission. Unsolicited feedback, even if it’s spot-on and valuable, can be hard to take and even disrespectful. Asking someone if they’re open to our feedback, while sometimes stressful, is important to do and much better than just launching into it. This is true even if we’re their boss, parent, or mentor, or in any other type of relationship where permission for our feedback may seem implied.

Making sure that we have explicit permission to give feedback shows that we respect and value the person to whom we’re giving it. It also usually makes feedback feel less like judgment and more like help, allowing the person to be more receptive to what we have to say. Creating a team standard that we have permission to give each other feedback is also important. And, even if we do that, asking someone for specific permission in the moment before giving it is essential.

3. Skill. Giving feedback effectively takes skill. And even though it can be challenging, it’s definitely something we can improve upon the more we practice and dedicate ourselves to doing it. Because giving and receiving feedback can be a vulnerable experience for everyone involved, it requires attention, commitment, awareness, and courage to do it well.

The more willing we are to do it, the more we can develop our skill of giving feedback successfully. And there are, of course, different ways to give feedback effectively. Oftentimes, we may give it directly and explicitly as part of a review, development conversation, or team debrief. Other times it may be subtler and not even seem like feedback at all, but more of a question, suggestion, or conversation.

4. Relationship. The most important aspect of giving effective feedback is the relationship we have with the person or people we’re giving it to. We can have the most positive intention, explicit permission, and a lot of skill in how we deliver it—but if our relationship isn’t strong or it’s actively strained, it’ll be very difficult for us to give feedback to someone and have them receive it well.

I could get the same exact feedback from two different people but react to it quite differently depending on my relationship with each of them. Let’s say, in one case, I know the person cares about me, appreciates me, and believes in me. I’m much more likely to be open to their feedback and to take it positively. Therefore, making sure the relationships we have are strong and authentic helps us ensure that we can give feedback effectively when we need to do so. If the person giving feedback is someone I don’t know as well or may have some unresolved issues with, it’s less likely that I’ll be open and take their feedback well.

If we find ourselves in a situation where we have to give feedback to someone with whom we don’t have a strong relationship, it’s important to know that this will definitely have an impact. Anything we can do to acknowledge this in an authentic way and work to enhance or improve the relationship will bene t our ability to provide feedback to them in the present moment and in the future.

All four of these things—intention, permission, skill, and relationship—are important to remember when giving feedback. And they’re also important to think about from a growth mindset perspective when receiving feedback. We want to be sure to check in with and pay attention to what the other person’s intention might be with their feedback for us, to explicitly grant others permission to give us feedback, to communicate about how we like feedback to be given, and to proactively work to strengthen our relationships with the people around us.

Giving and receiving feedback isn’t easy, but it’s so important for our growth and development, as well as that of our team. Being able to embrace and even enjoy the sweaty-palmed nature of feedback is something that can allow us and our team to perform our absolute best.

Feel free to leave a question or comment below.

 

* This is an excerpt from We’re All in This Together, by Mike Robbins, published by Hay House Business, April 2020

Although there are many aspects of this pandemic that are bringing us closer together and breaking down barriers between people, our country and our world continue to be incredibly divided along political and ideological lines, which has significantly negative consequences for each of us and all of us.  As I write about in my new book, We’re All in This Together, while it isn’t easy or often encouraged in a real healthy and productive way, our ability to connect with people who see things differently than we do, politically and otherwise, is so important, especially right now.

I was on a plane a few years ago flying from Fort Lauderdale to New York. I’d spoken at two events in south Florida, was flying up to New York for some meetings, then on to Boston for another event, and then back to Florida for my final event before heading home. It was a crazy but exciting week. I was in full-on work/travel mode, which means I had tunnel vision—focused just on getting to where I needed to get to, taking care of myself physically so I’d be ready to go when it was time to speak, and getting as much work done as possible while on my flights and in my hotel rooms.

I was working on my laptop even as people were still boarding the plane that afternoon. Sitting on the aisle, I had to get up when the two people who were in the window and middle seat came to sit down. I greeted them briefly. They were together—a man who looked to be in his mid-50s and a woman who looked to be close to 80, whom I assumed was his mother.

As the flight began to take off, I had to put my computer away and wait for the plane to get to 10,000 feet before I could start working again, so I started flipping channels on the live TV in front of me. I landed on CNN and was catching up on the news of the day. We reached 10,000 feet and I pulled my laptop out and began to work. I had e-mails to catch up on and I was reviewing my latest podcast episode—so I pulled my headphones out of the airplane armrest and plugged them into my computer.

About 10 minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man sitting to my right in the window seat motioning toward the TV screen in front of me. It was still showing CNN, but I wasn’t paying attention to it and couldn’t hear it since my headphones were plugged into my laptop. Then I heard him say, “Fake news, fake news!” I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me, to his mom, or just talking out loud to himself. So, I ignored him and kept working. Then he did it again, this time more demonstratively, his voice getting louder as he pointed at the screen.

I stopped what I was doing, took out my ear buds, turned to him, and asked, “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes! CNN is fake news. It’s just a bunch of liberal propaganda.”

I was a bit taken aback by his intensity. He seemed angry, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I felt nervous, but also intrigued. He and his mom both had the TVs in front of them turned to Fox News. I said, “I notice you’re watching Fox.”

“It’s the only honest news on TV,” he said passionately.

At this moment I realized I had a choice. There were various ways I could avoid getting into an argument with him. I also had a ton of work that I needed to get done. But my heart and mind were racing—I felt scared and defensive, but also excited and curious. I wanted to see where this conversation might go and what might happen, so I said, “Well, I’d be careful if I were you. I’ve read some studies that say people who consistently watch Fox are the most misinformed news viewers in America.” As you can imagine, he didn’t appreciate this comment.

“Oh, I see, you’re one of those liberal elites who thinks he knows everything.”

And then we were off to the races from there. We argued about Donald Trump, Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, immigration, the economy, climate change, the military, guns, the police, and a number of other issues. I tried to stay calm and not get defensive, but that didn’t work so well. He continued to call me names and it got heated.

It was an odd and interesting experience to find myself in a pretty aggressive debate with this man whom I hadn’t known an hour before. And while I wasn’t concerned for my safety in any way, I did find it uncomfortable and upsetting. I also didn’t really enjoy being called “wimpy,” “whiney,” “snowflake,” and other things.

As the conversation escalated, I finally said, “Stop! Look, we clearly disagree in some pretty fundamental ways about these issues. But my deeper concern is that here we are, two strangers sitting on an airplane, and you’re calling me names simply because we disagree about politics.”

Then I shifted gears completely and asked him a question. “Do you have children?” He looked at me with surprise and said, “What?”

“Do you have kids?” I asked again.

“Yes,” he said. “I have four.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s great. We have two young daughters.”

“We have two boys and two girls,” he said. “Our oldest is thirty and the other three are in their twenties.”

“So, you’ve been at the parenting thing much longer than I have,” I said. “I worry sometimes that I’m doing things (or not doing things) that might be messing up our girls. I try to do the best I can, but sometimes I wonder if I’m doing a good job as a father.” Then I asked him, “Do you ever worry about that, or did you when your kids were younger?”

He paused, looked at me in a different way than he’d been looking at me, and didn’t answer the question initially. Eventually he said, “Of course. I think every parent feels that way at some point.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I said. “Maybe, just like as a father I try to do the best I can and think my ideas, decisions, and actions are right, with respect to some of these big political issues, I have strong opinions, but I’m not sure I know what the solutions are. Some of these challenges are so large and complex, it’s possible that the answers are much bigger and more involved than I can even understand.”

At this moment, he was looking at me like I was a little crazy, but there seemed to be some recognition of what I was saying in his eyes. He said, “I guess?”

We both laughed a little, there was an awkward silence between us, and after almost 45 minutes of arguing, we just stopped. I went back to my laptop and he went back to chatting softly with his mom.

As my heart rate came down and I sat there reflecting on the intense conversation that had just taken place, a few thoughts came to mind. First of all, I had no idea if either of us convinced the other of anything. I didn’t walk away agreeing with his ideas or political views, and I doubt he did with mine. However, I did learn a bit more about where he was coming from and felt the anger, fear, and frustration he had about the media, the country, and the state of politics, which was actually enlightening for me on a number of levels. This man who was more than 10 years older than I am, a father of four, and a fire fighter from Long Island had a very different background and worldview than mine.

Second of all, when I was being self-righteous and defensive, it was hard for me to listen, hear, understand, and connect with him in any way. However, when we talked about our children, the conversation got more vulnerable and real, and I was able to find some common ground with him, which allowed us to, momentarily at least, connect with each other—human being to human being, father to father. And in that instant, I felt more empathy, compassion, and understanding for this man sitting across from me, even though we fundamentally disagreed about some pretty important issues.

Our country and our world are intensely divided right now.  Although getting into arguments with strangers on airplanes may not be the most productive route, the only way we’re going to bridge this divide is if we’re willing to have these important and often uncomfortable discussions with each other.

If we have the courage and willingness, we can find common ground and when we do, we can have more understanding, insight, and appreciation for those who see things differently than we do.  And, when we do this, we can start talking to each other about these important issues, and not just about each other to those who already agree with us.  By doing this, we’ll remind ourselves and each other that we truly are in this together, and we’ll be more effective in addressing some of the biggest challenges we face collectively right now and as we move forward.

Feel free to leave a comment, question, or piece of feedback below.

This is an adapted excerpt from We’re All in This Together, by Mike Robbins, published by Hay House Business, April 2020

We all have privilege.  Some of us, like me as a straight, white, affluent, American man, have more than others.  However, for a number of reasons, many of us have a hard time acknowledging and owning our privilege. It has become almost a slur, or even an outright attack to be called “privileged.” In our current social and political climate, there has been a lot of important discussion about white privilege and male privilege specifically.

A simple Google search of the word privilege comes back with this definition: “A special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group.” The synonyms listed are advantage, right, benefit, prerogative, entitlement, birthright, and due.

In a larger culture that aspires to values such as hard work, fairness, opportunity, and meritocracy—and given some of the societal dynamics at play in recent years— it’s understandable that privilege can be seen in such a negative light and why many of us have a hard time owning our privilege. In some cases, we even argue that we don’t or try to hide that we do.

However, the bigger issue is being able to realize that we’re not all starting at the same place and it’s not a level playing field. Some of us simply have advantages that others don’t, and in many cases there’s not much we can do about them—they’re literally based on where we were born and what we look like. But it’s important to be able to see that these things exist and to try to understand the impact they have on us and others, all the way around.

A few years ago, a high school teacher posted anonymously on a site called Bored Panda about an important lesson on privilege he shared with his students. He wrote:

I place a trash can in the front of the room, and have my students take out a piece of paper and crumble it into a ball. I then ask them to try to shoot their paper ball into the trash can from where they’re seated. I explain to them first that they as a class represent the country’s population, and that the trash can represents America’s upper class. Being that we live in the “land of opportunity,” everyone will be given the chance to “make it big” and become wealthy by throwing their paper ball into the trash can. Whoever successfully shoots their ball into the trash has made it to the upper class.

Most likely, my students sitting all the way in the back of the classroom will start complaining, saying that their peers sitting in the front have an unfair advantage. I use this opportunity to make the perfect segue into talking about privilege and inequality. The closer you are to the trash can, the better odds you have, the more privilege you have. It’s not impossible for those in the back to also shoot their paper balls into the trash can, but it’s a lot harder for them.

I make a point to explain that the students sitting in the front row were probably unaware of their privilege initially as they only saw the 10 feet between themselves and their goal. I also point out that the people who were complaining were the students sitting in the back. I wrap up the lesson by stating that education is also a privilege, and that my students are capable of using that privilege in order to advocate for those who are behind them.

I love this simple yet powerful example of privilege. With respect to diversity, inclusion, and belonging, our privilege often gets in our way of noticing, seeing, and understanding certain things, as well as our willingness to engage and take action to make necessary adjustments and changes.

In her Netflix special The Call to Courage, Dr. Brene Brown says, “To not have the conversations (about inclusivity, equity, and diversity) because they make you uncomfortable is the definition of privilege.”

One of the realities of being in a dominant or majority group of any kind is that often we aren’t necessarily forced to think about, talk about, or address these issues. And because they can be scary, difficult, and messy to deal with, we either choose to opt out or we simply don’t pay attention.

More deeply and even scarier to admit is that sometimes we don’t want to acknowledge or let go of our privilege because we’re worried about losing it, and afraid of what increased access and opportunity for others might mean to our own ability to succeed.

Our privilege itself and then the denial of the privilege we have are both things that make having authentic conversations about diversity difficult and make it challenging for us to do what needs to be done to create environments of real inclusion.

However, by understanding our privilege more deeply and owning it, without blame, shame, or judgment, we can genuinely address some of these complex issues and move towards creating an environment within our team and company (and society at large) where everyone has a true sense of belonging.

This is an excerpt from We’re All in This Together, by Mike Robbins, published by Hay House Business, April 2020