Learning to Lead from the Middle: An Apprenticeship in Diversity

Cultural difference is sometimes such a subtle thing that we can walk right by it without seeing it. It leaps out at us if it comes packaged in different coloured skin, ethnic dress or foreign speech cadences. Rural and urban values and lifestyles, the survival skills learned in economic disadvantage or a refugee camp, the challenges of raising a child with special needs, coming to terms with one's sexual orientation, or trying to sustain a livelihood in an emergent and little-known occupation might easily fall outside our definition of cultural difference -- yet many of the same principles of diversity and inclusion apply. Life's deepest learnings -- the lessons that really stick with us and become part of who we are -- seldom happen in a classroom. The more we open ourselves up to startling and unsettling discoveries that can occur anywhere, at any time, the more the journey becomes an adventure of the unknown, lived from the heart. Learning how to learn from one another across cultural boundaries calls for openness of spirit. Recognizing and moving beyond our own deeply rooted assumptions is a crucial first step -- willingly trying on someone else's perspective, and accepting that it is just as valid as our own. Our maps often prove unreliable and we may be called upon to rethink not only our route but also our very destination, making our way together through uncharted territory toward a shifting end point. But we will eventually find our way Chances are very good that some of the views along the route will be quite breathtaking. Creating a Climate of Safety Being listened to is something I've always taken for granted. In my early work with a subsidized housing community, I soon discovered that not everyone has been so fortunate. When such a simple thing has been withheld for so long, it becomes of monumental significance. The most powerful thing I could do for these people was incredibly basic: to listen to their stories, openly and wholeheartedly, without judging. For many of them, this was an entirely new experience. As they became more at ease with me, they poured out their hearts -- their hurts and frustrations, their hopes and dreams -- all of themselves. I was honoured and humbled by their trust and thunderstruck by the very different reality that I was seeing through their eyes. The certainty of unconditional caring has to come first. That's a huge commitment. When people have been deeply hurt, their trust, once earned, can never be treated lightly. Only on these terms can we create a safe place in which to be authentic -- with ourselves as well as with one another. Paradoxically, it is only when we feel safe that we are ready to take risks. Leading from the Middle The other prevailing concern was to ensure that these people remained in charge of whatever might occur between us -- nothing would be done against their wishes or without their agreement, and no one would attempt to exert control over them. If the community members sat on couches and chairs, I sat on the floor in order to stay below their eye-level and avoid any hint of dominance. I took special care to avoid jargon or unfamiliar idioms. If we recorded flip chart notes, we made a game of enlivening them with humourous little drawings. In this light-hearted and transparent way we melted literacy barriers. Those sheets of notes always stayed in the community, rather than leaving with me. We chose any "outside experts" with care, selecting people who were both committed and genuine, who valued and respected differently-acquired wisdom and who would be open to whatever they might learn along the way. All of these measures helped to reinforce that these people, themselves, owned the process -- and that it was one of "outreach and inreach," a multidirectional flow of learning. I was there only to act as the midwife, if you will; this was their baby to which I was helping them give birth. …