Creating a space for all voices

This past week was filled with introspective activities that gave me insight into myself - be it my natural tendencies, my mental blocks or my weaknesses. More importantly,  I recognize the enormous value in paying attention to the variety of voices around as a result of this week. At IDEO, we learnt that the most interesting insights come from the most extreme cases. Yet oddly enough, the softer or marginalized voices got drowned out during the most chaotic and time constrained scenarios. It wasn't until we deliberately paused and reflected on the various activities that I realized how detached I felt to an outcome when I hadn't been heard throughout a process. Not being heard once, shaped my thinking and my actions for all the activities that followed. Perhaps, this is why the lessons in empathy are so critical to developing solutions. And also why choice became an important concern last week.

For the first time, I also feel an enormous sense of responsibility to push myself outside my own comfort zone, certainly for personal growth but more so on the behalf of others.  Others in similar situations, constrained by their own limitations were looking to me to break my own mental blocks. I recognize the importance of adapting my style based on circumstances. Some circumstances demand silence as a leader while others demand taking the risk when you are just as unsure as everyone else. The key is to not get boxed into one pattern, but instead to remain nimble, to remain aware, to listen, to involve others and to act despite the uncertainty. Leadership is a balancing act between being a participant and an observer, each role just as critical to accomplishing the goal. 

Lack of Choice

Tuesday Oct 11: We each got a 2-ride metro card and $5 to go experience available social services in NYC. No phone, no maps, no credit cards. Here's a reflection from my day.

Every entrance reminded me that I was entering a place for “Homeless” people. It was a consistent message communicated through the metal detectors that greeted me at the entrance, the x-ray machine that no longer worked, the police frisking each entering resident and through the shelter rules that dictated “no alcohol, no sex, no perfume, no electronics…” on the entrance walls. Despite the lack of any useful information, related to available services, hours, procedures or instructions regarding where to simply wait for assistance, the word “Homeless” reappeared consistently throughout the day.

Once inside - I waited. Ironically, I waited for the lady to finish her lunch so she could talk to me about the screening procedures for food stamps. I waited, after walking several blocks, to be told I would have to go to an assessment center before being allowed into the shelter I finally found. I waited, to get directions to the closest hospital since the one I was at had been closed. I waited in lines, I waited to be called, I waited to be approached, I waited to be told what to do and I waited to simply be noticed. As I waited, I realized how I had no other choice.

It certainly wasn’t all despair or hopelessness; much to my surprise I shared numerous smiles. I saw fashion conscientious 20 something’s walking out of the shelter that could’ve easily been mistaken for residents at a women’s dorm. They possessed enormous strength and courage that I found myself envying. The elderly women told me to have a blessed day as they made their way to the café down the street that serves free food. They displayed such faith and purposeful courtesy as they acknowledged my presence. As I walked around the strikingly isolated and neglected streets of Brooklyn, groups of men talked and flirted with me, unaffected by what I interpreted as harsh surroundings. Perhaps, that explains why the chairs and water cooler in a waiting lobby were such a welcome change. I witnessed hope, fear, laughter, desperation, strength and acceptance.

They may need help but they are still adults. They want information but don’t want to be told what to do. They need help to access services not a list of roadblocks as they navigate through this endless maze. Their identity is larger than their current homeless, alone and hungry status. I wish they weren't asked to believe otherwise through every interaction.

I came back home, the others are still trying to find a way out. I recognize the power of having a choice.