Square Pegs And Sharks’ Teeth

Brian (not his real name) and I hit it off from our very first meeting. He was new into a very large, established organisation, having spent almost all his career in smaller, fast growing businesses and I was asked to help his transition with some coaching. Brian’s boss, who I knew well, was very happy that we built such strong rapport straight away. The HR business partner was delighted that our coaching contract was agreed so quickly. The budget was in place, the schedule and logistics were all sorted. The only tiny problem was that Brian should never have joined the organisation and none of us knew it.

Brian and I started to realise we were trying to force a square peg into a round hole part the way through our second coaching meeting. Brian had identified a number of areas that he would need to work on if he was to become fully integrated in the company. These included internal stakeholder management, how to thrive in complex matrices and dealing with bureaucracy. Our conversation about these topics felt really clunky and so we took a step back to try and work out what was going on. At that time we assumed Brian was struggling with the transition from one culture to a very different one.

This same pattern continued for the next couple of sessions. Brian become more and more determined to make it work in this new job, but it seemed like the harder he tried the more resistance he came up against in himself. It was feeling like an impossible task and we were at a loss as to find a way to break through so that Brian could fully arrive in this new culture. At the same time Brian was becoming more and more despondent; not enjoying his new job and struggling with the culture of his new company

Although neither of us were big poetry fans, I showed Brian one I knew of, by Jennifer Cock, that seemed relevant. It’s impact on Brian was immediate and profound, providing a breakthrough in our work (It also changed the way I thought about my coaching forever).

A Question of Teeth

One of my coaches,
A really nice ‘almost senior’ guy,
Asked me to help him grow teeth,
Of the shark’s variety;
The kind that all big boys in the business
Seem to have as a prerequisite of seniority.

He complained
Of not being taken seriously,
Because his teeth,
Although gleaming white,
Weren’t razor sharp,
And didn’t hurt anybody.

When I told him I thought
His teeth were more than good enough,
And that sharpening them
Would ruin his face,
He said he only wanted to borrow a mask
And pretend to be nasty.

I sucked in a heavy breath
And asked him what it would mean to pretend
To not only become someone he is not,
But also something he despises deeply,
And whether that could actually work
As he seemed to be suggesting.

I asked him to consider that question carefully
Before our next conversation, and said that:
I could help him exercise authority more skilfully,
To stand aside from, or within, his emotions
More deliberately,
And to employ his skills with greater agility;

But I could not, and would not,
Help him to work against his Self
Or indeed support the organisation,
Towards ever more precarious health

Brian and I, with the implicit support of his boss and the HR partner, had been unconsciously trying to help him grow a form of shark’s teeth. The moment we realised this, our work was transformed. It wasn’t made simpler, because it now required some big decisions for Brian as well as difficult conversations with his boss and HR partner. But it had become the right work.

This story is not really about Brian; he is very happily and productively employed in an even bigger establishment organisation. It is about the ethics of coaching; something vitally important that can easily be lost or hidden amongst the desire to do good work, make progress and achieve objectives. And I guess it’s possibly also a parable for anyone feeling bent out of shape at work.