A few months ago, I published a post called Showing Up Imperfect. Based on my experience leading a series of train-the-trainer workshops in Maine, I reflected on the value of humility, vulnerability, and imperfection.
To summarize, there’s a big difference between being imperfect and being incompetent. Know your stuff and do your work really well – but if you strive for perfection, you often leave less space for participants to do their work and claim their power.
As I wrote, “The work of facilitation and training is not about the expertise of the person at the front of the room. Rather, it’s about highlighting and uncovering the wisdom within the group.”
When imperfection puts you at risk
I received lots of appreciative comments, which was gratifying. However, I also received the following note from my friend and colleague Christine Zachai of Forward Philanthropy, which caused me to stop and think. She’s quoted below, with permission.
“I definitely suffer from a need to over-perfect a presentation/workshop/client session before going live with it,” she wrote. “This phenomenon could be more common for women (true in my life experience), as women have always needed to show up 150% prepared to be taken seriously.
“I’d be curious to know if people of color or people with disabilities experience this tension as well.
“I agree that allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of your audience/participants has a lot of value for everyone in the room. But I think it’s important to couch that point in the realization that not every facilitator/consultant has that luxury.
“Perhaps white men have that luxury because their audience is automatically going to grant them a degree of credibility and authority as soon as they walk into the room, and perhaps other humans have to show up 150% prepared in order to earn that credibility.
“I don’t entirely disagree with your premise. I just think there are more dynamics at play.”
Yes, privilege counts
For the record, I am the dictionary definition of privilege. As my friend suggests, I’m a white man. I’m also straight, cisgender, and able-bodied.
I am American-born and speak English as my first language. I come from an upper-middle-class family and have an Ivy League college education. I am old enough to show some wear and tear, but I’m not yet invisible due to old age.
None of this allows me to do sloppy work. However, as my colleague points out, it automatically gives me the benefit of the doubt. I assume that most people will take me seriously, and they do.
It also means that showing up imperfect poses little risk to me. Her point is absolutely correct.
Naming it
Whenever there’s a teachable moment, I am always happy to discuss privilege – especially my own. I’ve been doing this for the last decade.
In the case of the train-the-trainer workshops in Maine, it came up at every session. While I was modeling imperfection, we were also talking about power, privilege, and who gets to be vulnerable. For many participants, it was refreshing and empowering to have this subject unpacked on the fly.
On the principle that marginalized people shouldn’t bear the burden of teaching everyone else about oppression – in other words, men need to talk to men about misogyny, straight people need to talk with straight people about homophobia, and so on – how do we model this in the context of training and facilitation? Even if (especially if) it’s not on the agenda?
One answer: If you’re willing, seek out those teachable moments and name what’s going on. If your power and privilege allow you to take risks, talk about why and how that works in real time.
Imperfection has its fans, too
As noted earlier, I received lots of positive feedback on the previous post. As I review the emails and online comments, I’m noticing that they all came from women. Many discussed how they incorporate imperfection into their work.
Meredith Emmett of Third Space Studio wrote, “One of the values of our consulting practice is ‘bumbling.’ When I show up assuming perfection, folks don’t welcome their own imperfection… I frequently notice that when I bumble, I create greater space for others.”
Today’s post was written to honor Christine, who raises the risks of imperfection and vulnerability for women. It’s also a chance to acknowledge other colleagues – many of them women – who embrace that vulnerability.
Which is another way of saying: this is a complicated topic.
What do you think? Use the comments section below.
I have been affiliated with non-profits for more than 45 years and on the board of most. I am new to my small rural community, a senior citizens center, and am a new board member of it. Other board members have either no board experience or just with this one. When I agreed to join this board, because of my experience I was looked upon as the “savior” of a dwindling service provider in deep financial trouble. Because I have also facilitated strategic planning retreats, I have been asked to facilitate one for this organization. (Yes I know, not the best scenario.) In both roles, board member and s.p. facilitator, I do not want to come off as a “know it all” so being imperfect is right up my alley. I believe that I will be a more effective board member if I, in my imperfection, demonstrate that that’s okay and, more importantly, that their ideas and insights have just as much value as mine.
Hey Cynthany — Thanks for sharing your story. I appreciate the humility you bring to the board and to the planning process.
In White Fragility: Why White People Have a Difficulty Talking about Racism by Robin Diangelo (white woman), she notes that she has been called into organisations to engage systemic racism within the organisation, everything goes fine *as long as* discussion remains in theory or historical. That the second, discussion becomes specific in real time, dynamics can become much more dicy, and – in my exprience as a woman of color – potentially economically or physically dangerous. This is what came immediately to mind, Andy when you suggested taking on the teachable moments “in real time.”
Hi Denise — So grateful for your comments. It’s a complex subject! Two responses:
a. Despite one’s best intentions, privilege carries a certain amount of cluelessness — including my own. It’s useful to be reminded of that.
b. You reinforce the point that people with privilege face less risk, and therefore need to speak up and take responsibility for addressing systemic racism and other forms of oppression.
As a trainer and facilitator, I’ve been trying to figure out how to weave this conversation into sessions on fundraising, board development, strategic planning, and other subjects. As you note, it can get dicey. But it’s less risky for me, given my status, which is one more reason to do it.