An Unlikely Master

“Mr. Kingston, do you think you’re helping this drill go well by doing that?”

A bit later: “Mr. Kingston, how do you think we all feel waiting for you to stop that and get ready?”

And later: “Mr. Kingston, are you trying to get me on your case on purpose, or do you really not realize what your are doing?”

This was not at all my usual mode. I was weary. I was even a bit resentful of having to teach class that night. So much for making my own energy and choosing my behavior. Kingston is normally a distracted guy and he was in prime distractedness that night. I was instructing, alone, Kingston and more than a dozen other students, and he was the nail sticking furthest out from the floor. He was making my life hard, and I tried to whack that nail down with an interrogation hammer.

Interrogation. Police get confessions with it. The military finds out information it needs. Parents use it to get their kids to realize their errors. Bosses use it to hold employees accountable. Coaches use it to focus the attention of their players. It’s an age-old strategy that can seem to accomplish a lot. But accomplish what, exactly?

Well, certainly the interrogator feels in control, or is trying to. She’s trying to manage and direct the situation, people, you. Isn’t that what mom was trying to do all those years? And Coach? Isn’t that what the boss tries to do now? What about Master Chris? Trying to control the situation, manage it, manage Kingston, direct him. Shame him? Motivate him? The interrogator makes it clear she knows the answers to her questions, and that you obviously don’t, but now you sure do. Situation under control. Mission accomplished!

Police and military uses aside, in the words of my Alt-Lead business partner, what interrogation ultimately accomplishes is “to make the recipient feel like the biggest piece of crap in the world.” It’s probably safe to say we all have been on the doo-doo end of this management technique — or control tactic — at some point in time. I have been.

Whether it was harsh or subtle interrogation, I may have changed my behavior but it didn’t motivate me. Or inspire me. Or empower me. It may have gotten me to focus more on certain stuff, but it sucked the energy out of the situation, energy that I might have used to do my best work. Even if my behavior changed, I felt reduced. I felt like a piece of crap. I wasn’t motivated to stick my head out any further. “Keep your head down or it might get bitten off!” I may have been managed, controlled, pushed — or manhandled — but I was not being led to the best place I could have gone to.

There I was: interrogating. At least I caught myself by the third time. I noticed Kingston’s eyes ever-so-briefly flick down. I could see how I was sucking the energy out of the room.  I caught myself and turned things around. I had been facing the shadow; I turned around to face the light. I returned to who I was supposed to be at that moment: a teacher. A leader. Leading the student to their best place, drawing out the good, the true, the beautiful, the potential.

“Ok, Mr. Kingston, let’s take all that amazing energy and use it here. Ready?”
“Man, Mr. Kingston, you certainly can work hard! Can you keep it going ten more times?”
“Who can help me with this? Kingston? Great! Let’s show everyone how to do it!”
“Ooo, Mr. Kingston, that’s pretty good! Let me show you something that might help you do it even better.”

His focus changed. My energy changed. It ended up being a really good class for everyone. People worked hard. People left wanting to come back for even more. Imagine that.

Class ended and Kingston reminded me that I had not recruited a helper to pack up my big hockey bag of equipment. “Can I do it?” he asked. “You sure can. Thank you for offering!” As he struggled to make it all fit, I helped him organize things in a way that worked. “Whew. We did it!” he exclaimed with bright eyes.

Yes we did, Kingston. Thank you for helping me.