China On My Mind: Part I, Part II, Part III

This edition of China On My Mind: How I Lost Sight of Purpose is about the roller coaster I experienced this past week. I lost focus of the kernel of my dream that is most powerful for me, that lives in each moment, the part that keeps me alive. I instead chose to focus on a dream that lives somewhere else. I thought my ‘dream’ was about speaking Mandarin at a specific proficiency level (i.e. advanced intermediate), and experiencing a gift of a connection that seems to keep on giving. The very thought of that dream was mesmerizing. It gave me a buzz, and summarily distracted me. This week, I realized clearly that my dream was not about the language. Mandarin is the channel, but the dream is about breaking through barriers in a way that is interesting and meaningful, and that creates a resonant human connection. Don’t misunderstand. I still want to attain a higher level of language proficiency, and that can be a secondary focus. There is a real opportunity in my daily language practice to experience wonder, and to feel grounded and alive. What I learned powerfully this week is that staying focused on the very thing that initially felt so cool and captured my interest (achieving Mandarin proficiency), has prevented me from experiencing the fullness of my larger goal (connecting across ‘boundaries’).

This Week’s Story

My story this week is a tale of failure, forgiveness and acceptance. And, it all started in a place of intimidation. Intimidation of me, by me. At the beginning of the week, there was a voice in my head that kept saying, “Get it together Vern. This is a TRANSFORMATION! I will not let you squander the opportunity. Get going, sista. NOW!”

I was so upset with myself I couldn’t function. Oh, you wouldn’t have known if we had chatted at my son’s karate class, or in aftercare. And certainly, no clients or friends would have heard the slightest note of dissatisfaction from me. I was in a place of quiet disappointment which hit me hard.

I made my Mandarin practice the center of my world, and I was slipping. I set myself up to fail, and then berated myself for the failure. I created a monstrosity of a language regimen that I couldn’t maintain. I was managing a roster of seven language partners that I was constantly replenishing, an audio language program, a grammar program, a business language program, and Chinese character study. I was listening to interviews in Mandarin to get a sense of how people actually talk (One-on-one with Yang Lan). I co-opted everyone I could think of who spoke Mandarin to help me. It was all tiring and over the top. It was another revealing reminder about where I go when the stakes are high and I feel that failure is not an option. And that, my friends, is what happens when you set about trying to live your dreams. Your dysfunctional habits and inner gremlins come up to keep you in your place.

In this space of frustration, my first instinct was to add more habits. I initially concluded that what I needed was more rigor in my daily regimen. I started a “Morning Miracle” routine which included exercise, meditation, affirmations and journaling. I felt proud, invigorated, refreshed and full of energy. And, unexpectedly, at the same time, I started to experience a heightened nervous, frenetic energy. But, I thought, at least I was moving.

Reconnecting With Purpose

Then I was coached by a friend. “I am noticing some aggressive energy,” he said with no more emphasis than if he’d mentioned that a hair was out of place. “Your right.” I conceded. I had felt that I was pushing it a bit much. And, I was too entrenched in my own story to see my way out. He began coaching me. We explored a few perspectives, and I eventually suggested I might relieve some of the pressure by bringing more creativity to my Mandarin study. Then, later that day, I spoke with another consultant and coach friend, who within 30 seconds declared that a saboteur was present. Henna invited me to consider an idea that came to her in her meditation that morning: 100% commitment, and 100% nonattachment. She decided that what lived between commitment and nonattachment was ‘play.’ “Why don’t we play together during this call?” she suggested. So, we did. Working from home, I put my fuzzy robe on. I put on my powder blue slippers. We began to chat without direction, exploring and considering all kinds of topics that sometimes veered off into the absurd. It was comforting. I fell into a sort of flow again. We talked about what working together and approaching clients might look like from this perspective. “You can do this,” she reassured me.

The Power of ‘Play’

Later in the day, I thought more about our conversation. Why not play a bit more with play in my language study? Then, I remembered. I had just ‘played.’ The day before, I visited the local community center. I remembered seeing a number of Chinese seniors enjoying breakfast refreshments at the center a few months back. If that was a regular time for coffee and conversation, and if it wasn’t too awkward, maybe I could just show up. “They live at the senior center next door” a lady at the information booth told me. We have refreshments in the morning, and some seniors, including a group of Chinese seniors, come from across the street every morning. “You mean, that building right there?” I said. So I walked over. The next thing I knew, I was approaching a spirited card game. There were four Mandarin-speaking Chinese seniors who were playing their hearts out. While one of the seniors was shuffling the cards, I said in Mandarin, “Excuse me, I would like to practice my Mandarin. Do you mind if I join you?” “Of course!!! Have a seat.” they said. (There was a clear subtext though – Don’t interrupt our game, Ms. Thing. We’ve got a serious game of cards going on here, and I’m going to win.) They invited me to show up at 7:00 am any morning and practice my Mandarin during coffee. They were lovely and gracious, and welcomed me. By the end of the game, I still had no idea how to play, but I made some lovely connections, got an invitation to coffee, and played! In that time of play, I felt free and in flow. And it was a beautiful place to build from, which I happened to do the next evening with a new client.

A New Client; A New Perspective

This week, I began a contract with a new corporate client. Per the contract, I have been assigned as a coach to a number of Asia-Pacific-based employees. My first coaching session on that contract was with a woman manager in Vietnam. The coaching was in English, but I still couldn’t understand everything she said. I had already decided that my first priority was to connect to this manager, and then to see what we could create together. Here’s what was cool. We still had an intense, productive coaching session! I noticed that as I stayed closely focused on her spirit, core interests, and a sense of wonder of what we might create together, the language itself was less important. And maybe that’s the point.

Reflections

What I’m realizing now is that my language study is one big meditation on staying connected to the humanity of another, and the humanity within myself. While my interim goals are important, the big overhaul that is needed in my life is not in my schedule. It is not in the accountability structure, routine or the amount of work I accomplish by the end of the day. For me, the extraordinary happens in those moments when I choose to stay grounded, and simultaneously commit to authentic humane connections. Learning Mandarin and my focus on China creates cross-cultural intimacy for the sake of better understanding how to apply this in all of my relationships, in every interaction, every day. Imagine what is possible from partnerships and collaboration when we all begin from a place of deep connection? And that, my friends, is what happens when you set about trying to live your dreams. You start living.

How will you live more?

China On My Mind (Part I)

China On My Mind (Part II)

China On My Mind (Part III)

This week, I am a little pensive, so in this blog, I spend more time in open reflection, and share one opportunity that has opened up for me since I made my interest and connection to China public. As I have said before, my connection to China runs deep, and has come to be an anchor for my core values and purpose. It is also an integration point for various areas of my life that need to congeal. If you have read blogposts I & II, you will notice that I am intentionally using this Mandarin journey as framework for a broader transformation. In so doing, I have been able to embrace more of my whole self, including the quirky, the insightful, the unapologetically powerful and the obsessive. It is all related and wrapped up together. I had been convinced that those qualities of my personality and leadership didn’t fit in to the workplace, or my relationships. I’ve received some uncomfortable feedback on these parts of me over the years, and have sometimes experienced unpleasant reciprocal force in return for the force felt from me. But rather than use this feedback to figure out how to bring a more compelling self to the workplace and the world, I’ve used this feedback to rationalize filing those qualities away from sight, or to attempt to cut them out altogether. Not surprisingly, those efforts didn’t work. I have learned the hard way that no matter how much I try to hide parts of myself, all of me shows up anyway, not powerfully, but accidentally, awkwardly, and in ways that are altogether un-compelling. What I didn’t realize was that a fuller expression of myself could free up more energy to experiment with my wisdom and strength, generating more discretionary effort, building stronger relationships, and yielding more output.

What Does Eric Garner Have To Do With It?

For several years, I have been taking and delivering transformational leadership and coaching courses. One organization in particular that I have stayed connected with is the Coaches Training Institute [CTI]. When I finished my coursework and coaching certification, I began assisting courses to stay familiar with course content.

Before one of the courses, the instructors, myself and the other assistant met to kick off the day, and to plan what we wanted the class to experience. At this first pre-course meeting, one of the instructors spoke about the Eric Garner incident. A video had just become public, and protests were taking place in major cities around the country. Eric Garner was the African- American man who, for illegally selling cigarettes on the corner and questioning officers about their treatment of him afterwards, was eventually strangled to death by one of the policeman. Garner stood with his hands up saying, “I can’t breathe” while policemen stood around and watched indifferently. The CTI instructor briefly, but emotionally, shared her frustrations. She also did this tearfully later during the course instruction. In response to the instructor’s reaction, I just nodded knowingly. I wondered why I hadn’t said more. Maybe I didn’t go ‘there’ because I wanted the safety of not having to express my anger and frustration. Then I realized that this is a familiar place for me, feeling the weight of a subject, holding back for the ‘right time,’ and waiting to address the heavy topics perfectly, or not at all.

Ironically, the coaching class directly addressed ‘things you can’t be with’ as a module. The module was about issues that are difficult to talk about, and therefore creates areas in life where your range of motion and expression is limited. It was in that day, that I realized that I have spent quite a bit of energy holding back to keep others comfortable. That is not to say a little restraint doesn’t have its place. However, I noticed that my ‘simple’ act of holding back often doesn’t serve any practical purpose, but does diminish my ability to bring my real self and all that I can offer in the moment.

An Unexpected Question

I had shared a bit of my Mandarin story with one of the instructors, including some of the resources I was using to create my own language study program. I shared one resource in detail – an online language partner matching site, Conversation Exchange. Through the site, I had picked up seven language partners which allowed me to speak Mandarin with a few different people everyday. Of course, the instructor called me out on that fact at the end of class. She asked me in the context of transcending personal barriers, “How have your relationships with your language partners changed you?” Unexpectedly, I got choked up. Of my seven language partners, I have a few that I have developed some very close relationships with. How can you speak to someone everyday about your life, have the courage to fall on your face together repeatedly, and not develop some deep connections? I don’t speak to my closest American friends everyday. Even if I Skype a Mandarin language partner a few times a week, I am still in their home a few times every week. Besides my husband and children, there is no one else in my life that I meet with that often. Not that I expected not to develop close relationships, I just never considered the possibility. It is obvious and a wonder – even as our cultures are different, and our frames of reference in many cases are diametrically opposed, humanity still gets through. That authentic connection is not a big deal, and at the same time, feels significant.

An Opportunity Presents Itself

During another one of these courses, I happened to mention to one of the other assistants that I would like to become a teacher of CTI programs in China, perhaps in Mandarin. What I didn’t know was that she had created a leadership stake around helping connect people with their dreams by connecting people to each other.

Without my knowledge, she launched into a fury of telephone calls. She contacted someone from the CTI core leadership, and began working behind the scenes to weave her web.  Within the week, she texted me that she had recently spoken to one of the leaders, Sam. Apparently, he was very interested and wanted to speak to me. Of course, she told me I couldn’t delay one moment (as I wanted to). He was leaving the country that weekend, but was at home now, waiting for my call. [Insert my panic here.] When I called, he told me that as a pre-requisite to be a CTI leader, I needed to take the ten-month CTI Leadership Program. He and his brother Pat were leading the course in one month. And, as part of the course requirements, each student would be required to identify and follow through with a ‘leadership quest.’ Perhaps teaching coaching and leadership courses in Mandarin could be my quest? He then sent an email to the head of the Chinese program and cc’d me.  Jeff, head of CTI programs in China, was a lovely man who encouraged me to come to Shanghai. I told him of my story (he also had an emotional connection with the book, ‘Spring Moon’ many years before.) I told him about my regimen of Skype conversations with my various Mandarin language partners, vocab memorization, Mandarin language programs, texting on ‘We Chat,’ and listening to Chinese television. He was interested, and thought I represented the kind of out-of-the-box transformation the company wanted in its leadership community. The next thing I knew, I was signed up for ‘CTI Leadership,’ receiving coaching clients from China, and considering leader auditions in Shanghai.

Reflections

This experience has led me to think, what else in my life is this language journey forcing me to face? Am I really willing to consider a personal transformation at this time in my life?

When I am hired, for group or individual work, I am not hired for my credentials. I am hired for what others see and hear and sense from who I am. The work I am doing is important for my own well-being and development, but also central to sustaining my business. Again, it is all wrapped up together. Do others feel they can learn from me? Are they inspired? Are they interested? In a way that I didn’t experience working within a corporation, I must continue to develop fundamentally at my ‘growing edge,’ that particular area of development beyond which there is a well of growth and learning. It is now a necessity that I continue to learn and stay inspired. My life needs to stay interesting for my own sake as well as for the sake of my business. What a lovely personal and professional charge, and I choose to welcome it all.

Click here for China on My Mind (Part I)

Here I continue the story of my relationship with China. In my last blog post, I spoke about how my experience with race in America led to an unexpected love of a novel chronicling the lives of three generations of women in China (Spring Moon by Bette Bao Lord). My love of the book grew into an infatuation with the country, grounded in culture, language and literature. My infatuation, in turn, transitioned into a new lens for interpreting race. Today, my adult relationship with China has further expanded into a launching pad to take risks, a place to step out of cultural expectations and norms, a space to have a wild adventure, and an opportunity to work on areas of my life and consciousness that I have ignored. For you to more fully experience my ongoing transformation, I include my perspective relevant to the time period. This includes my perspective about race. I will not shy away from sharing my evolving perspective on that American obsession. My candor is intentional and important. And, it is as an important part of this story as any.

Back Home from China for the Second Time
After I returned home to the United States from China for the second time, I started a traditional life as a wife and working woman. I hired a Mandarin tutor through my company’s Employee Scholar Program. In our sessions, we followed a textbook, which was helpful, but I didn’t have the Chinese language environment to build fluency, so I eventually discontinued lessons. As I settled into my traditional lifestyle which in many ways was a struggle for me, I missed China and all that she represented for me. Since then, I have learned that sometimes your heart has wisdom that your rational brain can’t comprehend. The challenge is learning to trust in that wisdom.

My First Son Begins Chinese School
Within a few years, my first son was born. When he was four, I enrolled him in Chinese school, a Friday night school targeting families of Chinese children. Out of several hundred families, three (including us) were non-Chinese. The school charged $400 for a full year of language and cultural studies. It was quite a deal. The language program offered two language tracks: one track for students whose parents spoke Mandarin at home, and one track for students whose parents did not speak Mandarin at home. There were many children in the second category. Some children’s parents did not speak Chinese well as they were overseas Chinese (E.g., Vietnamese-Chinese, Indonesian-Chinese), and raised to speak other languages. There were children whose parents spoke a different dialect of Chinese other than Mandarin (E.g., Cantonese.) There were biracial children whose one Chinese parent did not speak Chinese at home. Several children had American-born Chinese parents who could not speak Chinese fluently for a host of reasons. I even remember one Caucasian family, who had adopted a little Chinese girl. The mother dropped her daughter off early every week and quickly left. That was unusual as most parents stayed around and waited. I assumed she wanted to give her daughter an immersion experience, but never asked.

It was thrilling to watch my son learn and speak Mandarin in class, and watch him play with the other kids during break, having no awareness that almost everyone in his environment was Chinese. It was a healing experience for me, and sometimes I just stared at him rolling around on the floor with his friends. It was a decidedly different and refreshing experience. I had no innate desire to ‘fit in,’ or sensitivity to being excluded. Early on, I learned that Chinese school was an opportunity for the Chinese community to be together, just like African-Americans have our organizations to be together. So, if there was a birthday party outside class, and we weren’t invited, I didn’t mind. I remember there were a couple of mothers who didn’t appreciate my son outperforming their children in class, in Chinese of all subjects. And, I also remember a teacher making a point to lecture the students and parents alike that everyone, EVERYONE gets to be appreciated and celebrated in her class. It was a gentle reminder that race has its hold, but people are individuals, and a range of humanity is present in every race and ethnicity.

The program was structured to have two hours of language study and one hour of a cultural extracurricular activity. My son chose Chinese painting. He had a blast. In fact, the children had exciting activities planned throughout the year. Each year at Christmas came Chinese Santa. During Chinese New Year, there was a huge Chinese New Year’s celebration where the children received ‘money’ in a red envelop, watched performances given by classmates (singing, dragon dancing, piano, Chinese yo-yo, etc.), and chowed down to a feast that would make your heart sing. And, during that first year, at the end-of-year showcase, there was my little man, singing Mandarin songs, and reciting poems in Mandarin with his classmates.

The next year, the curriculum got heavy – my son, who was five at the time, had a mid-term entirely in Chinese characters. We had been assigned a new teacher, and had a wide range of ages in that class, with my son being one of the youngest. The mothers of the youngest test takers designated ourselves to ‘assist’ during the mid-term. It was very cute, but intense. So, after three years, given that I wasn’t willing to keep up with the workload along with all of our other activities, we left the school. That was six years ago.

On Safari Holiday in Africa
This past summer, we went on safari to Kenya and to a beach resort in Tanzania, Africa. I expected the African landscape to be breathtaking and its wildlife stunning. I was not disappointed. What I did not expect was the extent of China’s incredible presence in Africa. In Kenya, every time we stopped at the side of the road to buy tourist items at the local gift shop, there was at least one African present who spoke Mandarin. If I had to guess, I would say about a third of the safari tourists were Chinese, and there seemed to be Chinese products and projects everywhere – buses, lifejackets, infrastructure development projects – all featuring Chinese characters, prominently displayed. I found this surprising and interesting, and additionally noted a tension between the Chinese and African communities. A subtle comment would slip out from an African guide during a tour, or from a Chinese family member during the night’s activities. Nothing shocking, but enough to let on that a tension was present. I was curious about the future of these two communities, clearly moving full steam ahead toward a more entrenched relationship.

Chinese Business Opportunity #1
At the resort in Tanzania, my youngest son’s best mate was a little boy, originally from China. I spotted the family one evening in the recreation area. My husband smirked, nudged me and said, “Why don’t you go over there?” “You KNOW you want to speak Chinese.” As a matter of fact, I did want to strike up a conversation, and proceeded to walk over to the parents and brush off my Mandarin. The conversation was not particularly impressive, but I was able to say something, understand something, and that was enough. The couple was lovely. The husband was a senior executive from a petroleum company with headquarters in North Sudan, and facilities in many other countries of Africa. When he told me he lived in North Sudan, I said, “That’s interesting.” He laughed pleasantly, and said, “When Americans think you are crazy, they always say, ‘that is interesting.” He had a point, but didn’t seem offended. When I told this executive about my background in leadership development and training, he seemed intrigued. He asked for my business card and spent a few moments studying it. He asked how many employees worked in my company, and then we started to talk business. He was particularly interested in management training. He patiently talked about his business and work in Africa as he was ruthlessly devoured by a swarm of mosquitos circumventing his damp head of hair. As we spoke, I got the feeling that he saw me as a sort of bridge between the Chinese and African professional communities. And, giving the idea more thought, I realized that I had a connection to both communities without the baggage of either. On one hand, I was American, spoke some Mandarin, and had a clear affinity for the Chinese community and culture. And, although I can trace my American lineage back eight generations, I have clear African roots. We discussed in more detail how we might work together. That is when I started thinking about studying Mandarin seriously for the second time. Perhaps I could conduct training programs, and in so doing encourage a stronger collaboration and understanding between the African and Chinese communities in Africa. It would be, among many other objectives, a way to take a step back, broaden my view, and continue my personal work with race in a new space. I decided in that moment to put a curriculum together and get back to serious study.

Reflections
Today, my Mandarin study provides something I’m not getting elsewhere in my life. It is a place for me to step away from life’s obligations and expectations, and discover something that is right for just me. As for my next steps with China and Mandarin language study, who knows where this journey will take me? I have a rough plan, but it is all unchartered territory. I can’t identify a clear purpose or direction; and still, this journey holds an unexpected calling for me, and channels personal rewards that run deep. It is an exhilarating adventure for this time of my life. It feels central to who I am, and who I am becoming. And, to keep things interesting, I have decided to play all of this out publicly because I believe my adventure can be an inspiration for others. Many of my friends, family and clients feel stuck in their box of obligations, traditions, habits and expectations. And, if nothing else, my story is here to say, maybe there is more.

In my next blog I will talk about another Mandarin opportunity that has presented itself, and new insights that have come forward. Wow.