Fifteen years ago, I tasked the leadership students in my school with choosing a global project to work on. We had built good leadership muscles in our school and in our community, but our participation in global citizenship was not as strong as I wanted. I still shake my head in wonder to think that we chose to build a school in Africa, and I shake it even more to think about just how fast the project came about and how much it has grown. At the time we had one goal: raise enough money to add two classrooms to the government operated elementary school in Ewaso Ngiro, Kenya.
Our entire school community rallied around this huge undertaking. The students were so proud of what they accomplished and what they learned in the process, namely that they have the agency to affect and even make change in our world.
Just a couple of months after the official opening of the classrooms, Jim, I and four others were on a plane headed to Kenya to meet the community we had come to know and love. Besides us, we took the trip with Randy who was a parent at our school, member of our new board for our project, and father of three children, two of Randy and Bonnie’s teenage children, Hannah and Ryan, both of whom I taught, and Rick who had introduced us to our now long-time partner David (Kamishima).
For a girl who never imagined she get the chance to step foot in Africa, this was indeed a huge step. I was worried, afraid even. The culture on the Massai Mara and in rural Kenya is as different from Canadian culture as one can imagine. One night as we slept in tents, protected by guards with large guns, we listened to what sounded like a stampede thundering past the back wall of the tent. We lay still, eyes open wide. In the morning, on a walkabout to see the sunrise, we discovered that what we had heard had indeed been a stampede, a stampede of zebras being chased by a lion!
This had not been one of my fears pre-trip, or I may likely have not boarded the plane, but I certainly did have other worries. I was afraid I’d be overwhelmed by the need we would see. Not only the need for education, but the need for food, for health care, for drinkable water, for safety, and for protection of the young women to name only a few. I’m a doer, and I knew I would never be able to do enough. Not only that, I knew it was not my place to go there to do. So ahead of time I put on my coaching hat and imagined some structures I could put in place for myself, and for the rest of our group, so we could manage our fears and have some agency over ourselves in terms of our management of emotions.
The two things we put in place to do were these:
Each night, all of us who had been together during the day, including our Kenyan friends, stood in a circle and told one another what our favourite part of the day had been. This caused us to not only notice what we were experiencing, but it helped us focus on the wonderful things during the day. We would experience something and then wonder if it would be the most wonderful thing we might mention that evening. It’s not a bad practice. I think it may be commonly called gratitude.
The other thing we did was to remind ourselves to ‘be a witness’. We did not have to judge. We did not have to solve. We did not have to change. We did not have to know. We did not have to fix, or judge or even comment on. We simply needed to witness, to see. This was a gift to us. When things were difficult for us to see or experience, we would remind each other: Be a witness.
This idea of ‘be a witness’ has been something I and others from our little group, have continued to use in everyday life. Only a couple of months ago, I had a wonderful catch-up conversation with Randy, who I hadn’t seen in a while. We recalled this, and commented on how valuable this practice has become in our lives.
We live in a world where doing is valued, and where we tend to have an aversion to all things uncomfortable. When we notice someone crying, our first instinct is often to pass them a tissue, or perhaps to tell them not to cry, that everything will be alright. Sometimes we even jump in to assure them that it isn’t as bad as it seems. Or that we have been through the same, or even worse. While well intentioned, none of these validate what the person is experiencing. In fact, we say and do these things to make ourselves feel better, and we have little understanding of the impact on the recipient.
When we stop ourselves from these well-meaning gestures, we take the first step in becoming a witness. For to witness, not only means to see, it can also mean to give evidence or proof. When we give witness to someone’s situation or emotion, we show proof that the thing is true. When we give witness, we see, we hear, and we believe.
How do we do this, how do we give witness to someone? We do it by quietly standing with them. We do it when they are celebrating and when they are mourning. We do it when they are confused and when they are elated. We do it by acknowledging whatever they are experiencing without trying to minimize, diminish, brush over, or compare. We stand together with them and we see, we hear, we believe.
Just over a week ago I received an unthinkable call to let me know that Randy’s wife, Bonnie, our friend, had passed away unexpectedly and suddenly. Jim and I were in complete disbelief. We were shocked into silence. Then tears. Then more disbelief. We simply could not believe this news. It took hours for it to begin to sink in. It has shaken our world. During the evening of that same day I said to Jim, ‘We need to go to see Randy tomorrow morning.’ And so, without a phone call to give notice, without a casserole in my hand, without any prepared words, we went. Randy met us outside their beautiful home, and we held one another. We stood with him, and his family and bore witness. We hugged again and Randy whispered in my ear, ‘This is what I need. Presence’. And then he looked at me and said the words he and I have practiced living:
Be a witness.
We both understood.
We wished witnessing was not needed in that moment, but nothing, absolutely nothing else, could possibly have stood in its stead. When we witness, we protect the recipient of the witnessing. We protect them from having to explain, defend, pretend, deflect. We offer protection in our willingness to accept and stand with them.
This weekend many of us will gather with family and friends. I know there will be opportunities to practice witnessing. It is such a simple practice. It is not easy, especially at first, but it is without doubt the most valuable gift anyone can either give or receive.
I’m taking a couple of weeks away from my writing. Jim and I are going to take a trip to celebrate our 45th wedding anniversary. This milestone too, needs us to bear witness.
Meanwhile, my challenge for you is to ‘Be a witness’.
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to be a witness.
Our entire school community rallied around this huge undertaking. The students were so proud of what they accomplished and what they learned in the process, namely that they have the agency to affect and even make change in our world.
Just a couple of months after the official opening of the classrooms, Jim, I and four others were on a plane headed to Kenya to meet the community we had come to know and love. Besides us, we took the trip with Randy who was a parent at our school, member of our new board for our project, and father of three children, two of Randy and Bonnie’s teenage children, Hannah and Ryan, both of whom I taught, and Rick who had introduced us to our now long-time partner David (Kamishima).
For a girl who never imagined she get the chance to step foot in Africa, this was indeed a huge step. I was worried, afraid even. The culture on the Massai Mara and in rural Kenya is as different from Canadian culture as one can imagine. One night as we slept in tents, protected by guards with large guns, we listened to what sounded like a stampede thundering past the back wall of the tent. We lay still, eyes open wide. In the morning, on a walkabout to see the sunrise, we discovered that what we had heard had indeed been a stampede, a stampede of zebras being chased by a lion!
This had not been one of my fears pre-trip, or I may likely have not boarded the plane, but I certainly did have other worries. I was afraid I’d be overwhelmed by the need we would see. Not only the need for education, but the need for food, for health care, for drinkable water, for safety, and for protection of the young women to name only a few. I’m a doer, and I knew I would never be able to do enough. Not only that, I knew it was not my place to go there to do. So ahead of time I put on my coaching hat and imagined some structures I could put in place for myself, and for the rest of our group, so we could manage our fears and have some agency over ourselves in terms of our management of emotions.
The two things we put in place to do were these:
Each night, all of us who had been together during the day, including our Kenyan friends, stood in a circle and told one another what our favourite part of the day had been. This caused us to not only notice what we were experiencing, but it helped us focus on the wonderful things during the day. We would experience something and then wonder if it would be the most wonderful thing we might mention that evening. It’s not a bad practice. I think it may be commonly called gratitude.
The other thing we did was to remind ourselves to ‘be a witness’. We did not have to judge. We did not have to solve. We did not have to change. We did not have to know. We did not have to fix, or judge or even comment on. We simply needed to witness, to see. This was a gift to us. When things were difficult for us to see or experience, we would remind each other: Be a witness.
This idea of ‘be a witness’ has been something I and others from our little group, have continued to use in everyday life. Only a couple of months ago, I had a wonderful catch-up conversation with Randy, who I hadn’t seen in a while. We recalled this, and commented on how valuable this practice has become in our lives.
We live in a world where doing is valued, and where we tend to have an aversion to all things uncomfortable. When we notice someone crying, our first instinct is often to pass them a tissue, or perhaps to tell them not to cry, that everything will be alright. Sometimes we even jump in to assure them that it isn’t as bad as it seems. Or that we have been through the same, or even worse. While well intentioned, none of these validate what the person is experiencing. In fact, we say and do these things to make ourselves feel better, and we have little understanding of the impact on the recipient.
When we stop ourselves from these well-meaning gestures, we take the first step in becoming a witness. For to witness, not only means to see, it can also mean to give evidence or proof. When we give witness to someone’s situation or emotion, we show proof that the thing is true. When we give witness, we see, we hear, and we believe.
How do we do this, how do we give witness to someone? We do it by quietly standing with them. We do it when they are celebrating and when they are mourning. We do it when they are confused and when they are elated. We do it by acknowledging whatever they are experiencing without trying to minimize, diminish, brush over, or compare. We stand together with them and we see, we hear, we believe.
Just over a week ago I received an unthinkable call to let me know that Randy’s wife, Bonnie, our friend, had passed away unexpectedly and suddenly. Jim and I were in complete disbelief. We were shocked into silence. Then tears. Then more disbelief. We simply could not believe this news. It took hours for it to begin to sink in. It has shaken our world. During the evening of that same day I said to Jim, ‘We need to go to see Randy tomorrow morning.’ And so, without a phone call to give notice, without a casserole in my hand, without any prepared words, we went. Randy met us outside their beautiful home, and we held one another. We stood with him, and his family and bore witness. We hugged again and Randy whispered in my ear, ‘This is what I need. Presence’. And then he looked at me and said the words he and I have practiced living:
Be a witness.
We both understood.
We wished witnessing was not needed in that moment, but nothing, absolutely nothing else, could possibly have stood in its stead. When we witness, we protect the recipient of the witnessing. We protect them from having to explain, defend, pretend, deflect. We offer protection in our willingness to accept and stand with them.
This weekend many of us will gather with family and friends. I know there will be opportunities to practice witnessing. It is such a simple practice. It is not easy, especially at first, but it is without doubt the most valuable gift anyone can either give or receive.
I’m taking a couple of weeks away from my writing. Jim and I are going to take a trip to celebrate our 45th wedding anniversary. This milestone too, needs us to bear witness.
Meanwhile, my challenge for you is to ‘Be a witness’.
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to be a witness.
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