Recently I spent a weekend in a "Coaching for Transformation" class with thirty-five of my life coach peers, mentors and teachers. We were in downtown New York on a spectacular Fall day. The topic we were exploring together was: coaching minorites in the light of racism, genderism, sexual orientation, ageism and other isms that tend to isolate or ostracize people. About half-way through the weekend, an African American woman mentor coach spoke up and said she felt that the real issue of racism was not being brought into the room in a way that was real. I was surprised at her vulnerability and passion. After what seemed a long silence, people voiced their agreements. The vast majority of the coaches in the room were white. The minorities in the group included one Asian, several Latinos and four African Americans. 
Then someone suggested we coach each other on the issue. My heart began to pound as a voice from deep within me said "you are Australian and Australians are really racist."As no one else had volunteered, I shakily spoke up and said I would like to be coached about my racist tendencies. I was going in blind, not knowing what would be revealed in exploring this with my peers. Another African American woman, and recent friend I had met in the coaching group, volunteered to be the coach. I was nervous, as I intuited that my deepest fears and darkest secrets would soon be exposed to everyone. Little did I know what was about to unfold.
The woman was about my age. She trusted me implicitly and asked me to explore what it was that made me think I was racist. The terms and expressions from my childhood flooded through my awareness. I was afraid. She leaned forward and invited me to utter the expressions aloud to the hushed room of fellow peer and mentor coaches. I knew I could not do it. I faltered and broke down in tears feeling a deep spiritual pain of remorse. It was deeper than my own personal pain. I was looking at a woman who had spent a lifetime being ignored, under-valued, rejected and isolated because of the color of her skin. I felt deeply implicated and began to confess the myriad of "small" ways this prejudice plays itself out in my life as a school teacher in a school of many and varied minorites.
She and the teachers held the space in the room for everything to emerge safely in front of the group. The teachers vulnerably admitted that what had opened up in the room was new and they were not sure where to go from here. Our group had many other options to explore that day. Many had suffered from the wounds of prejudice based on gender, sexual orientation, racism and age. However the overwhelming consensus was to stay with what had opened up and to reverse the roles. One coach astutely pointed out that racism was less explored from the African-American viewpoint and so hearing from my friend would in fact take us all into deeper unknown territory. I would now coach my friend and peer so she could share her experience in order to move forward.
We broke for lunch and when we resumed I stepped into the coach's role. I found this challenging. Within minutes the depth of my friend's despair started to surface between us. My friend was facing the frustration of a lifetime in which she felt very little if any, real change in eradicating racism in this country. She recalled her painful experiences at school when her teachers could not conceive of an African-American student as successful. I floundered. I myself had not known this pain and despair, having grown up in Australia as a privileged white male. I felt awkward as I coached her in front of my peers.
As our coaching time together was coming to an end I fumbled to help my friend go forward. I made a request that she could accept, reject or modify. I asked her to reflect on her situation and come up with ways to move forward. To my surprise she unhesitatingly rejected it. "What? You want me to endure more?" I felt deeply embarrassed and unconscious of how deep her wounds were. I could only try to hold the space for her to explore her feelings and options. My teachers, like angels on my shoulders, guided us until the end. All I had to offer was my presence. I could not "fix" anything. It was too wide, too deep, too vast. At the end of our session my friend was deeply impacted and reflective. The miraclulous healing brought about through listening with an open heart was present between us.
Simultaneously, I felt an emotional schism between us. I felt my friend had shared a deeply personal wound that was the product of forces that existed before we were both born. I felt our conscious coaching had made the elephant in the room visible. The hidden forces of embedded conclusions and unconscious denial of racism had emerged between us and, it seemed to me, had pushed the whites and blacks into their colored corners. We had stepped out of our comfort zones and I could not imagine what would unfold from this spontaneous exploration.
When I returned to school the next day, I was acutely aware of the subtle ways prejudice was playing out within and around me. I embraced conversations with my minority students with heightened care and curiosity. I saw them blossom and open up to me in miraculous ways. Several spontaneously shared intimate facts of their life openly. It was as if they sensed the safety in my new-found awareness. On one occasion an African-American girl in one of my classes shared with me (and the class) that her mother helps her prepare to overcome anxiety in her tests. I felt very moved as she spoke. At some point I felt the presence of my friend from the day before enter the room. At first it was as if she was witnessing this moment with me. Then, quite unexpectedly, the young student seemed to look and sound like my friend. It was as if I was seeing her in front of me, as she had been at school four decades earlier.
Something mysterious happened that I alone bore witness to, and this was because my friend and I had dared to explore this painful ism on a sunny day in New York.
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[...] are just a few that many people struggle with and resist. I recently wrote a blog called Healing the Isms Between Us, on one of my shadow areas – prejudice. What do you fear most about your weaknesses? What [...]
I was deeply moved as I read this post. With so many isms in our lives, it's reassuring to know that there is a way to deal with it—openly and honestly!! I work at the local college (in South Alabama!!) and I see it all every day in our youth and realize that it is taught to them at a very early age…..you're the wrong color, wrong gender, too old, too young, too fat, too short….the list goes on and on. When we change the way we think, our way of talking, and eventually living, will pave the way for the next generation to grow unencumbered by the isms that we have let control our lives for far too long. Thank you so much for sharing this heartwarming story in such an easy-to-visualize way. You truely have the gift!!!
Thank you Robin. You are in the trenches and it is so refreshing to hear my writing is reaching out there. After all this is where it counts. Let’s stay in touch about this fascinating evolution in human consciousness. It’s time is well and truly due.
Laurie, I honor both your courage to expose such deep challenges and your ability to express them here so vividly. You are an inspiring delight and I look forward to knowing you better as we grow as classmates and colleagues. My very best, Loretta
Dear Laurie,
I am so moved by your honest reflection of that day. I beleive the real changes happen in moments like that day when two people speak from their hearts with truth and courage. Both of you did just that. It was an honor to witness such openness.
Thank-you
Iris
For many years I was able to have a discussion about racism, with people of colour, from various cultures, some friends some acquaintances who i met over the years in my life. I would often be the one white person they could have this discussion with – it felt vulnerable, open and honest and exploratory and daring, and very important to me, and I knew it was unusual. These conversations were sacred, but also left us hanging. and I can see from your experience the importance of the context and container this is held and witnessed in. It is so KEY that You were all together in a place – conscious, reaching, holding this, safety? and a promise and a trust – and a Space to hold this. So much opens up in this conversation that can be more safely addressed, in this context…and to hear what unfolded and opened is tremendous. There are so many things that we are not OVER in the world because of what has not been heard, listened to or addressed in a TRUE sense. And here we can see what happens when it is. THANK YOU.
Hi Lawrence,
I was so touched by your heartfelt and honest story. When I first met you in class you told me about your dream to write. It is not a dream as it is a reality. You write from the heart and you have exceptional ability as a storyteller. Thank you for sharing your insights and the path you followed to get there. Love, Susan
Many miss the subtle nature of these deeply existential and survival dynamics that, at one time, served us and now…not.
I am deeply grateful for so many responses to this issue and feel it is a tip of an iceberg yet to be uncovered for us to move forward as a species.
I was touched in the room that day as I was privileged to observe growth and tansformation and I am touched by your writing now. People CAN change
and so can the world. Thank you..
I celebrate the greater presence and connection you are able to feel now with yourself and your students, being able to acknowledge how we are all personally affected by institutionalized racism. I can see how your new awareness is fueling your growth and learning. Congratulations!
Hi Laurie,
I never knew that you were racist while growing up here. In all that time that I thought we knew one another. I guess we’re still growing up. I’m glad you were able to feel it and express it now.
Actually I never was racist and still not. I was engaged to a beautiful man from the Phillipines in the early 90′s. I was really saddened by people here including some of my family. I didn’t understand their reaction, I just thought they would be happy for us. We never married but not for those reasons, but I thought about the whole racist thing then. We are still friends.
Life sends us many challenges to get to know our true self. Take care Kensho. lv susanx
Thank you for your honesty and vulnerability in this beautiful and moving post.
Thanks that took guts Laurie, I admire the vulnerability and courage to step forward. Not easy at all. Good for you, on the line, regardless of the outcome. Thanks.
Dear Laurie,
My eyes teared as I read this. Your vulnerability and the courage to step in and be honest with deep and real and messy thoughts and feelings speaks to the places I hold back and my desire to connect. Putting this into the written word lets me receive and digest the experience further. I am very touched and celebrate the spontaneous responses of your students. What a gift, what an invitation to reach inside and reach out to others.
Whoa – I’m deeply moved by your ability to capture these raw moments. So grateful to bear witness to your healing, which also heals me and connects me to the great mystery. Sharon just recommended a book to me, “The Help” by Kathryn Stockett, and we went to see “For Colored Girls” so I’ve been in touch with some pain – mine, hers, others and now yours… which softens when we hold it tenderly. Thanks for sharing so openly. Love, Martha