22. Friends
The advocacy stand which gives you your best shot at connecting with an enemy, also works really well when you want to ask more of a friend. Say you’ve settled into a comfortable equilibrium with a friend, but you know there’s potential for more and you want that and decide to go for it.
Compared to negotiating with an enemy, it might seem that engaging someone you care about would be a breeze, but it can be scarier because of what’s at stake. If you try to connect with an enemy and fail, nothing’s really changed. But what if you ask for more from a friend, trying to make things better, but you make things worse? What if she backs away or disappears on you? Now you’ve really lost something.
As always with the advocacy stand, there are no guarantees. But advocacy gives you your best chance of success when you ask a friend—or loved one, or acquaintance—to deepen their relationship with you. First, you take your friend into your heart, then you invite her into a challenge. And the more deeply she feels held by you, the bigger the challenge you can give her and it will still feel nurturing.
To a casual observer, advocacy might look easy, but to practice it yourself takes courage. Not the flashy, action-hero kind, but the down-to-earth, everyday kind.
To show you what I mean, I’m going to give you four dialogues. Let’s start with a simple request which segues into a deeper conversation and from there into a stronger friendship.
Karen: I’ve known you a long time, Susie, but there’s something I’m curious about that I’ve never asked you.
Susie: Uh-oh.
Karen: No, it’s nothing bad, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. You can just say “pass.” But I really want to ask.
Susie: Okay.
Karen: What would you like to be acknowledged for? What would you like to hear from your friends that no one ever tells you? Something that really matters to you but you feel like you’re the only one who sees it. Do you have something like that?
Susie: Yes.
Karen: Would you be willing to tell me what it is?
Susie: I don’t know.
Karen: Why?
Susie: You might think I’m bragging, and I’m not a bragger.
Karen: I know you’re not. And I’m not asking you to brag. I’m just asking if there’s something about you that if your friends saw it and acknowledged it, that would make you happy. And it would make us feel closer to you.
Susie: There is one thing.
Karen: Please tell me.
Susie: Do you see me being helpful to people?
Karen: Oh, yes, all the time. Not in a pushy way. Not taking on their problems. There’s something special about what you do for people. I can’t quite put my finger on it. You brighten them up.
Susie: People tell me all the time how helpful I am. But what they don’t say is what makes my helpfulness maybe different from someone else’s.
Karen: You’re right, it is different. Here’s what I notice. You get someone talking, then you listen, listen, listen and when they’re kind of talked out and get quiet, you give them back a poem of themselves. Rich with detail and imagery. You see in them what they haven’t quite seen yet. And the way you say what you see has a touch of beauty to it. You’ve done that with me.
Susie: That’s what I want to be known for.
Karen: Wow, I just saw your body relax and your face go sad.
Susie: You did?
Karen: Here’s what I’m thinking. There’s a benefit to what you do, how you help people, but then there’s the art of it. Are you feeling like people see the helper but not the artist?
Susie: Exactly. I’m told I have a natural talent, but that’s not true. The only reason I can do what I do is because I’ve spent years writing short stories. I’ve learned how to capture characters in what I call loving detail. But I’ve never gotten a single story published. So as a writer I feel invisible.
Karen: And lonely?
Susie: Sometimes.
Karen: Let me propose this. Sunday afternoon we’ll get together and I’ll ask you a bunch of questions about your writing, like what’s the pleasure it gives you, what’s hard about it, and what ambitions you’ve got. And I’ll ask you to read me a story. I’d love to get to know you in this way.
Susie: I’d like that.
Karen: And there’s something more I want to ask, but I find myself hesitating.
Susie: Please ask.
Karen: What you do is a blessing for our network of friends. I’m thinking it would be good for the rest of us to develop some of the ability you have. I’d like it if we could all see each other more deeply. But would you feel pushed aside if we learned how to do that?
Susie: Not at all, I’d welcome it.
Karen: Would you be willing to mentor us?
Susie: If you’re willing to do intense writing workouts with me, I’d love to have company.
Karen: Count me in, for sure. And I’m going to see who else I can recruit.
Susie: Thank you. And thanks for asking me these questions, and…
Karen: And what?
Susie: It’s your turn next!
Karen: Uh-oh.
Let’s look at another way to strengthen a friendship. In this conversation, Beth, instead of asking for vulnerability from her friend, is making herself vulnerable. But notice that she asks for one thing, not everything, in response to her question. She doesn’t want a big dump of criticism, because she knows that might shut her down. She wants to move the relationship just one step forward. Although sometimes a single step can turn into something bigger.
Beth: If there were one thing that I could do differently that would make our friendship better for you, what would it be?
Jade: One thing?
Beth: Take a minute to think about it if you…
Jade: No, I’m ready, I’ve got it. I would really like to see you stand up for yourself.
Beth: That would make our relationship better?
Jade: Yes, because that’s the one thing about you that drives me crazy. I see you stand up for other people all the time, but then some jerk lays into you and you’re silent. I hate that.
Beth: But how does that affect you?
Jade: I take it personally because you’re my friend. Which makes me want to jump in and rescue you, but I want to see you defend yourself. I want to see you do that for your own sake, but also I want to feel proud of my friend.
Beth: Okay, this is not what I expected.
Jade: Look, I know your history. I know what you had to endure as a kid. I get where your passivity comes from, and that makes me want to take pity on you and give you a pass. But I don’t do pity and it doesn’t do you any good for me to give you a pass.
Beth: I’m so sorry I’ve been a burden.
Jade: No, no, no, that’s not what I’m saying. When you’re getting messed over and you say nothing, what are you feeling? What would you really like to do to the guy?
Beth: Cut him off at the knees.
Jade: All right! My kind of gal!
Beth: But I freeze up.
Jade: I’m thinking that’s your past but not your future.
Beth: How did you develop your strength? You didn’t used to be like you are now.
Jade: Oh, that’s easy. It was that negotiation program for activists. S-o-o-o-o intense.
Beth: I kind of remember that.
Jade: It was twice a week for six months and you never once asked me about it. We talked about everything but that.
Beth: I’m sorry I didn’t support you, really sorry.
Jade: It’s okay. I had plenty of support in the program. I just figured that you weren’t ready to tackle the issue of self-defense yet.
Beth: I hope I’m ready now. Maybe I should sign up for that program.
Jade: Do you really want to do that?
Beth: You know what? I really do.
Jade: I’ll be glad to go down there with you and introduce you around. They’re great people.
Beth: No, I think this is something I need to do myself, so I’ll own the decision. Does that make sense?
Jade: It does. Anything you want to ask me for, though?
Beth: Once I start the program, can we compare notes? And maybe make a plan?
Jade: What kind of plan?
Beth: To do something special together.
Jade: What are you thinking about?
Beth: This work we do, the politics of it, is so hard, and so many times we lose instead of winning. It can get depressing. There are days when I feel like dropping out. Except I can’t do that because it would drive me crazy to sit on the couch and watch my country disintegrate without doing everything I can to prevent that.
Jade: I understand.
Beth: So I’m wondering, what if I got strong? What if I caught up with you? How much more effective would I be?
Jade: I know you’d be a lot more effective because that’s what’s happened for me.
Beth: And we’d weather storms better together than on our own, wouldn’t we?
Jade: You bet!
Beth: Well, aren’t there lots of other women doing political work who could use stronger friendships, too?
Jade: There sure are. So you’re thinking we could do something about that?
Beth: I am. Say we got really good at taking our friendship to the next level, then…
Jade: …I get it, we could take what we learned and…
Beth: …turn it into a workshop and…
Jade: …run it for small groups of women so…
Beth: …they’d get a transformative experience instead of…
Jade: …a bunch of flip-chart bullet points blowing past them.
Beth: Jade, can we really pull this off or it is too ambitious for us?
Jade: Omigod, no, it’s not too much for us. And making this kind of difference for other women would keep me going during the hard times. Don’t you feel the same?
Beth: I do. So, okay, so we’re going to do this?
Jade: We are, we really are.
Beth: I’m so thankful for our friendship.
Jade: Oh, Beth, me too.
Now let’s look at a situation where you’re telling someone she has to change, or else. In the workplace this is called a correction. But when you correct someone, that’s not usually taken as a friendly act. It can make a person feel judged and wrong. Often they get mad. Sometimes really mad. Even if they don’t say it out loud.
When you carry out a correction, you’re risking the relationship. You might even get a split response. The person’s job performance might improve, while your relationship with her goes cold. And what I find sad about this is that correcting someone creates rifts, when you could be deepening your workplace friendship by having an advocacy conversation instead.
Here we see Riley, an executive director, meeting with one of his staff.
Riley: You know how you sometimes explode?
Carol: Huh?
Riley: That’s not a secret, is it?
Carol: No, that’s not a secret. What do you mean? Of course not. Everybody sees me do that. It’s just that sometimes I have to get extreme to get my point across.
Riley: Well, that’s what I want to talk with you about during this supervision meeting. But I want to do the opposite of supervision.
Carol: That sounds scary.
Riley: What I want to do is just understand. During this hour I promise I won’t ask you to do anything different than what you’re doing. I just want to ask what it’s like when you get triggered and what it’s like when you’re in the middle of an explosion. And what it’s like in the aftermath. Would you be willing to have that conversation with me?
Carol: That’s weird.
Riley: Yes, it is.
Carol: No one has ever asked me that before.
Riley: And?
Carol: Let me think about it for a minute.
Riley: Okay.
Carol: Why do you want to ask me those questions?
Riley: Because when you have an explosion I turn cold and step back from you and feel distant and I hate that. That’s not the relationship I want with you. So if you’re willing, I’d like to get the backstage view so I can understand what it’s like to be you in those moments.
Carol: What’s the alternative?
Riley: I give you a directive not to ever have any more explosions ever again when you’re here at work. It’s too hard on the staff. It creates an atmosphere of fear. And it’s contrary to the guidelines for our organizational culture.
Carol: That sounds harsh.
Riley: Wait a minute, the most important thing to remember is that people here really like you, or want to like you. But they’re scared of you exploding with no warning. That makes it hard to be friends with you. Staff have told me how upset they are about the explosions, but not one person has trashed you.
Carol: Wow. I didn’t realize I was having that kind of impact on people.
Riley: I kind of thought maybe you didn’t.
Carol: I really didn’t. What should I do to fix this?
Riley: I could just tell you to stop. Or you could tell yourself to stop. But I don’t want to handle it that way.
Carol: So what should we do?
Riley: I would like for you to tell me what it’s like being you before, during, and after an explosion. I’m betting that there’s a simple answer to this and that we’ll hear it if you just start talking and say what’s true for you.
Carol: I feel embarrassed.
Riley: I understand. I’ve got my own issues that embarrass me.
Carol: I never know when my explosions are coming so they scare me, too.
Riley: This morning when you started yelling at Nora, do you know what triggered you?
Carol: I usually feel like I’m in a fog when the triggering happens.
Riley: Take a moment, close your eyes if you want, feel your way back there.
Carol: Hmm. I was feeling stupid. I wrote up the report on diabetes prevention based on the data she gave me, and she wasn’t happy with it. There was an edge to her voice, like, “You dummy.” So I blasted her. I wrote exactly what I thought she wanted and it turned out it wasn’t what she wanted at all. I didn’t want the problem put on me so I laid it back on her. Hard.
Riley: And how does that feel now?
Carol: Terrible. Blasting someone over a report, even I know that’s dumb.
Riley: Dumb?
Carol: Dumb and helpless. If someone thinks I’m stupid it makes me feel helpless. Family dynamics. Do we need to go into that?
Riley: No. But think for a moment about who you really are, the Carol everyone around here wants to like, the Carol you want to be. How would she have handled this?
Carol: Oh, god, she would have been…really smart.
Riley: Meaning?
Carol: She would have asked a whole lot of questions right at the beginning of the assignment. We weren’t clear with each other. I could have known what Nora wanted if I had just gotten her to stop long enough to go through it in detail.
Riley: So, what about smart?
Carol: I really do believe I have a lot of smarts. What if I could use my smarts to stop feeling stupid so I don’t blow up?
Riley: What if?
Carol: Well, I really want that. But right now, I need to go find Nora and apologize and tell her what went wrong and talk with her about the report that’s coming up next month so I can do it right this time.
Riley: Cool.
Carol: And then can I come back tomorrow and you can ask me more questions? Do you have the time?
Riley: I’ll make the time. This is important to me. You’re important to me.
Carol: Okay, I’m getting out of here. I’m feeling shy all of a sudden.
Of course, if advocacy fails, a supervisor always has the right to switch back to correction. But when you call forth the best in someone, when you challenge her to step up, she might be inspired to fix the problem herself, which makes your life easier and the relationship stronger.
Finally, let’s look at a situation so serious you consider it to be an emergency. Someone you care about is doing something that hurts other people or himself or both, but if you confront him with his behavior, he might hate you for it. So what do you do?
On TV shows we get to see the “hit-and-run” strategy. A character hits his friend with a hard truth, then bam, he’s out the door. The friend is left standing there in shock with that deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. Maybe this is good for dramatic effect, but from a friendship perspective, what’s happening is abandonment. Episodes like this teach us something about how to be a dramaturge, but nothing about how to be a friend. Instead of blast-and-bail, what does stick-and-stay look like?
Stan: Hey, Kent, thanks for taking the time to go on a walk with me.
Kent: No problem. I needed to get out of that place for an hour anyway. What a bunch of numskulls I have working for me.
Stan: Congratulations on the event. Lonnie was at the front desk when I came in. She said you broke the fifty thousand mark.
Kent: We did. Our grand total was exactly $50,000.50. We just barely broke the mark—but we broke it, didn’t we? And thanks for all your help. I really appreciate how you show up for me.
Stan: Well, that’s what I wanted to talk with you about.
Kent: Meaning?
Stan: I’m not going to be volunteering anymore.
Kent: Is something wrong? Do you need more time for your business? Did the doctor give you bad news? How can I help?
Stan: See, this is one reason we’ve stayed friends all these years. I love how you’re always ready to jump in and help.
Kent: Yeah, but what’s this about?
Stan: I spent two full days in the office last week working with the staff to prepare the event.
Kent: I know.
Stan: And they were leaking.
Kent: What does that mean?
Stan: You know how it is when people are unhappy or stressed? They can hide it for an hour or two, but not for eight hours. It didn’t matter that they know I’m your friend, they were leaking. There were comments I overheard.
Kent: And just exactly what did they leak?
Stan: How much you scare them. How much they dislike you.
Kent: Well, hell, I’m the boss. That happens.
Stan: And then every time you came into the workroom, it was like the scene froze. I could see people stiffen.
Kent: These days you have to crack the whip. Young people weren’t taught the work ethic like we were.
Stan: And there’s more.
Kent: Well, knock yourself out.
Stan: When I was coming back from the men’s room, I heard you in your office and your voice was loud and angry. So I stood outside your door and listened.
Kent: Eavesdropping?
Stan: Exactly. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. You were hammering those two program directors. You didn’t even give them a chance to defend themselves. You just whaled on them. You called them lazy, incompetent , and idiots. And those are good people.
Kent: If you want me to apologize to them, it’s not going to happen.
Stan: No, screw them. I don’t care about them right now. I care about you.
Kent: Then why are you walking out on me?
Stan: Because I can’t take it. I’ve known you since college. I know your good heart. The guy who I heard in your office last week was not you. I refuse to believe that’s you.
Kent: You don’t know the pressures I’m under. That kind of thing is just what it takes to keep people in line. I have to keep lighting fires under them or nothing gets done right.
Stan: I want your staff to look up to you like I do.
Kent: Well maybe they secretly do.
Stan: From what I witnessed last week, don’t count on it. They were trying to make sense of how someone who does such good things out in the world can be so mean back in the office.
Kent: So? This kind of thing just goes with the territory.
Stan: I don’t want that to be true. Not for you.
Kent: Well, it is.
Stan: You can change that. I’ve watched you do the most challenging things. Look at this organization that you’ve built against the odds. I know you’ve got it in you to fix this. You do.
Kent: I don’t know if I care to.
Stan: Well, here’s what’s in my heart right now. You’ve built this giant nonprofit that turns out a tremendous number of service units. It’s really amazing. You’ve saved so many teens from disaster. But now I’m seeing that all this success has been at a terrible cost to you personally.
Kent: Yeh, well, sure I’ve had to put in long hours, but I don’t mind, it’s been worth it.
Stan: I’m not talking about your hours, I’m talking about your soul. What’s your legacy going to be? The service units? The kids whose lives you’ve changed? Those are good things. But then there’s this staff that’s scared of you.
Kent: Some friend. Invite me for a walk then clobber me with all this crazy stuff.
Stan: I am your friend. I’m telling you what I’m seeing. And I trust in your good heart. It doesn’t matter to me whether you get this today or tomorrow or next year, I’m standing by you till you get it. I just can’t be around your staff anymore, it’s too painful.
Kent: Why don’t I just fire you as my friend?
Stan: You can do that, and I know I’m risking that, but it won’t change one bit of the truth. Tell me this, aren’t there moments when you want things to be different? Aren’t there moments when you feel lonely back there in that office?
Kent: Jeez, don’t bring that up. Of course I feel lonely. I miss the early days when we were all in it together. But this is what it means to be the big boss of a big organization.
Stan: Too much pressure can make a person forget who he is.
Kent: Well, I still know I’m Kent.
Stan: Yeah, you know your name, but what’s it like when you try to have a conversation with your heart?
Kent: That’s a luxury I can’t afford anymore.
Stan: That’s why I feel so sad. That’s why I’m standing by you.
Kent: Why me? Why not my staff since you’re so concerned about them?
Stan: Because I believe in you. Because I think you’re starving.
Kent: Starving?! Come on! Look at this belly!
Stan: I remember when you started this work. I was there when you gave those speeches and rallied people. What you talked about then was love. Again and again. You were eloquent. And it was so obvious you really meant it. When was the last time you spoke that word?
Kent: Can’t remember.
Stan: That’s why I’m going to stand by you. From now on I don’t give a damn about your organization. If your staff don’t like it there they can quit. All I care about is you. I think you’ve got the moxie to fix this. And if you don’t want to fix it, I believe you have the smarts to get out and go start a new life somewhere where you can remember who you are.
Kent: You don’t care about the staff? That’s not like you.
Stan: I care about them, but not right now. I’m putting that on hold. There are only three possibilities that could make things better for them. Either they walk, or you get out, or you get back to being the person you were when you started.
Kent: That feels cold.
Stan: I know.
Kent: But that’s how it is, right? That’s what you were going to say next?
Stan: Yes. But take a second look at that third option. I think there’s a lot of warmth in that one.
Kent: It must be fun to sit in the catbird seat and give me grief.
Stan: Here’s what I’m doing right now, I’m risking our friendship, which is really important to me, in order to be a good friend to you.
Kent: How noble.
Stan: Not really, because I’m also doing this for my own sake. If I just sit on the sidelines and watch you hurt people, and watch you sink deeper into whatever this is that you’re sinking into, how am I supposed to live with myself? I’m definitely calling on you to step up to the best of who I know you to be. But I’m also calling on myself to step up, which is what I’m doing in this conversation. It would be a whole lot easier to let this situation slide, but then we’d probably drift apart, and you wouldn’t even know why. And I’d feel terrible because I betrayed our friendship when you needed me.
Kent: Okay.
Stan: And this is not just a one-way deal. I’m counting on you to wake me up if I start behaving in a way that goes against what I believe in. I may hate being told, I may hate you while you’re telling me, but the core moral part of me wants to be told, really, really wants to be told. Will you make me that promise? Will you do that?
Kent: I notice I’m hesitating. That’s a serious thing you just asked me for.
Stan: Yes, and I’m serious about it.
Kent: Let’s stop talking about this now. Maybe over the weekend I’ll give it some thought.
Stan: Okay. And…
Kent: And what?
Stan: How about if I call you Sunday night. I won’t lay anything more on you, not one more thing. I’ll simply ask you how you’re doing and then just listen.
Kent: Well, call me and I’ll see where I’m at.
Stan: I’ll call you at 7:30 sharp.
I wish we as a species could have a champion, someone to stick with us and help us do our best, someone to stay with us through to the end. I wish we could have that kind of friend.
