I am passionate about learning in all of its many splendid forms: co-learning, unlearning, up-learning. I think it’s because learning is what makes me feel most alive. Whether I am shallowly or deeply in my stretch zone, I am reminded that I am not — and no one and nothing is — frozen. That I am — and each and all of us are —dynamic and unfolding. That there are always seeds inside us which can grow into beautiful flowers, when we bring vulnerability, consciousness, curiosity and kindness to them.
In a wisdom council conversation with my friends N and D (two alums of the 2022 online Education Transformation YES! Jam), we were talking about how we support folks with accessing their leadership and creativity. N was struggling with his own staff, wanting them to take more initiative and getting frustrated when they were making the same or similar mistakes, again and again. D powerfully noted how “disappointment is rooted in misplaced dependencies” (this could be its own Substack post!), and then he offered the adage ‘I do, we do, you do’ — as a process by which he supports his team to access their creative energies, get more deeply into feedback, and take ownership for fresh action.
I loved this framework! It reminded me of apprenticeship, one of the oldest and most powerful modalities for learning. Back in the day, artisans, who put in their 10,000+ hours for mastery of their craft, would take on apprentices. Often, the first part of the learning journey involved observation — watching with keen eyes to see what the master crafter was doing. Then, usually, there would be an invitation to join in some accessible part of the process. These small tasks would be done together, and later, when enough skill was built, the apprentice would be given the opportunity to do them on their own. The master artisan would then return and give feedback to feed-forward. And this process would continue, on and on, as the work increased in complexity, and the apprentice’s understanding grew. I witnessed this happening within traditional pottery, weaving, and puppetry artisan communities when I lived in India. I even felt it myself in the role of farming apprentice when I first entered the world of organic farming 25 years ago.
It wasn’t linear learning, like A to B to C. Instead, it was more like a spiral, practicing and re-practicing A with a bit of B and Q and the square root of 2, and then around to G for awhile, with a bit of Z and a lunar eclipse, and then around to C, and so on. There was a direction, but it wasn’t in a line. Instead, there was ample space for reflection, and for giving and receiving feedback. Each moment an apprentice felt ready to risk and try and ‘make mistakes’, they would get to the next edge of learning. Skillfulness and creativity, as well as a deep sense of stewardship, were the result.
I wish ‘I do, we do, you do’ was more present in our world today. If only it was more of how we approached our collective learning, I think it would lead to deeper insight, more connection, more stewardship, and more creativity — which feels like it is desperately needed everywhere right now.
For over a decade of my life and work in India with Shikshantar, I was actively reflecting on how factory-schooling diminishes many peoples’ sense of themselves as learners, leaders and creators. In most conventional schools, the practice is to sit in rows and be quiet, follow orders and instructions, take tests and compete/compare with others. Underneath it all is a near-constant disconnection from who we are, what we are doing, and why we are doing it. At least, in my experience, the heart and body and spirit disconnect, while the mind — at least the rote memorization part — tries to stay engaged. With so many structures, policies and outcomes driving them, even teachers in factory-schools don’t often find themselves doing things, or even simply being in ways, that invite curiosity, participation, reflection and growth.
Now, the less I engage with schools and the more I engage with live/workplaces — from companies and non-profits to networks and intentional communities — I see a similar disconnection. One of roots of workplace breakdown is that people don’t see themselves as co-creators of the dynamics; they don’t recognize how they are shaping their work culture (i.e., the particular mindsets, skillsets, and structures that make up any culture). More often than not, I sense a passivity from folks — even from the leadership — that someone else will do it, someone else knows better, or is responsible for the change, and they pass the buck around as a result of this passivity. At the same time, there is often resentment against those who use their power or influence to try to ‘drive’ change and make something different happen. It’s a bit of a Catch-22 where I don’t want to be a learner and co-creator of this place/space/culture, because that involves responsibility, accountability, awareness and feedback; and I also don’t want someone else to tell me how to be and what to do either, because that impinges on my autonomy and freedom. [This is not so different from how many students feel.] The space for intrinsic motivation, for deep learning, for rich dialogue, for observation, reflection, action and feedback, then becomes severely limited. The result is usually a cocktail of conflicts.
Which is great for me because it means I am never out of work! :)
Jokes aside, I have had this experience multiple times, and it got me wondering: How could ‘I do, we do, you do’ become more a part of transformation for ourselves and our environments? How might it help us shift — in mindset, skillset and structure — so that we all see ourselves as practitioners and learners? In the process, could it make more change more possible?
I had never made the association before D shared it with me, but I now see that this kind of apprenticeship is most of what is happening in YES! Jams. We are practicing all manner of co-learning, unlearning, uplearning together — which leads to healing, vision, connection, collaboration and more — and “I do, we do, you do” is deeply embedded into the whole experience of healing community.
It’s most obvious when I consider the role of the ‘facilitant’. This term is a mash-up of facilitator and participant. It refers to those who put out the invitation to the Jam, who organize it, and who offer structure and sessions each day — the facilitators in a traditional sense. The twist, though, is that these same people also deeply participate, by unmasking, sharing their stories, and taking the lead on any invitation or exploration they offer.
The alignment with our invitations is crucial. If I am not in integrity with my own invitation, then it doesn’t land for others. I have to feel what I am saying, what I am inviting the group to check out with me, and be okay with peoples’ yes to it, no to it, and/or any modifications they want to the invitation to make it work for themselves. That’s the deepest part of my ‘I do’. Like a master crafter, I am making a commitment to a practice, no matter what. I am modeling what I want to see more of in the world with my practices, so my practices have to make sense to me. That’s the only way that my invitations for others to join me can be in integrity.
The ‘we do’ is then co-learning and co-practicing together. In a YES! Jam context, some of facilitants’ foundational practices are:
Vulnerable truth-sharing: I offer my vulnerability and I make space for others to do the same. I enter my stretch zone as I bring forward my experiences, questions, and feelings. When I am part of a chamber of truth-tellers, all of our mirror neurons are firing in a shared direction. This way, honesty and openness, and being okay with not being okay, become part of the norm.
Loving, non-judgmental, openhearted listening: I receive others as I want to be received, without additional imprints of judgement, interpretation, or fixing, being placed on or by me. As part of the circle, I bear witness and be with-ness. Truths come out and nothing comes back, aside from open hearts and listening ears. That makes it easier to get to my/our truest truths and to accept that of others. Only from those most real places is change possible.
Reflective mirroring: I listen fully and then, if desired, can share back what I am hearing, to support others to hear themselves even more. When I receive the same from others, I too find more points of clarity for ways forward. There is a faith that healing answers are inside me, and I can be supported to see them, just as I have faith that is true for others as well.
Appreciative inquiry: Similarly, in right timing, I ask and answer appreciative questions. They open me/us up to deeper truths by evoking the stories that are most relevant in that moment – the ones we need come to the top of the heart. Change will be guided from there, for as the co-authors of Appreciative Inquiry wrote, “Human systems grow towards what they persistently ask questions about.”
As facilitants invite and invoke these practices, which are also dynamic and fluid processes, they begin to reverberate around the container of a YES! Jam. Those mirror neurons keep firing! As ‘we do’ together, we all get more fluent, stronger, and clearer about the change we are seeking for ourselves and for our world.
And then, from there, it’s easier to go forward into the ‘you do’. I see it happening in the dining hall, late night and early morning, as the Jam week goes on. Whether or not facilitants are around, participants are practicing for themselves. They are learners and leaders, co-creating and stewarding themselves and the community as a whole.
Of course, when the Jam ends, the ‘you do’ takes center stage. As my friend Richard once shared with me, out of his learnings from Thich Nhat Hanh’s Plum Village, “The conditions at home are exactly right for your practice.” That has stuck with me! The practices we take home, and carry on with, are how change takes root. Except it’s not meant to happen in isolation. Even though we are now in our own home-places, we are still a part of the ‘we do’. Each of us have the benefit of a support system of co-practitioners, fellow Jammers who offer us opportunities for reflection, for feedback, for new risks and experiments. I think this is what makes change possible.
I don’t think of humans as linear beings, since I don’t know anyone whose life has moved in a straight line. Even when it seemed to initially follow a set path, it often veered ‘off course’ into new dimensions and directions — where the challenges and struggles and breakthroughs (if you were lucky) happened. That’s the power of sharing what ‘I do’ and inviting others into the ‘we do’. When we get to the ‘you do’, transformation is already here. With companionship and support, we are bolstered to be the people we want to be and do things in generous, abundant, and imaginative ways together. In our homes, workplaces, friend circles, the cycle can begin again; the ‘you do’ transitions into the next ‘I do’. Maybe that’s how change expands and grows.
I remember my friend Jeff shared with me this image of the change process that he had received in a training with one of his mentors, Betty Pries.
It cracked me up because it reflected a deep and simple understanding: that change can feel harder and worse until one moment it starts to shift and feels easier and better. Maybe this curve could be supported with ‘I do, we do, you do’. Imagine companions who are practicing change, whose curves are resting alongside yours, who are inviting you to practice change with them, and who are celebrating and supporting your practice of change in the world, as you then turn to invite others to join you as well. Imagine the support in your struggle at the bottom, and the happy faces around you at the top. Maybe we can reclaim ourselves as the co-creators we always have been. Maybe we can do it.
I would love to hear your own experiences of ‘I do, we do, you do’. What change has become and/or is becoming more possible for you? Please share in the comments.
This post brings to my mind a talk I was invited to give to my Quaker school's high school students in 2007. I summarized it as follows in my forthcoming book Short Journey Home: Awakening to Freedom with Thich Nhat Hanh:
Farewell
At an Upper School assembly, the day before graduation, I bid farewell to departing seniors with William Glasser’s words: “There are only two places in the world where time takes precedence over the job to be done. School and prison.” This leads me to the question, “What is ‘the job to be done’?” I’d found an answer to that question several years earlier in Parent/Teen Breakthrough: The Relationship Approach. Co-authors Mira Kirshenbaum and Charles Foster write: “Teens have only two jobs to do: to figure out who they are and to leave home.”
“During my thirty-four years at Sidwell Friends,” I continue, “I’ve worked with a number of people who knew who they were, and I was inspired to look within and understand myself more deeply. However long you’ve been at our school, I hope you too have found models you wish to emulate.” I reflect on the more than one thousand Meetings for Worship I’ve attended, hours that have played a vital role in getting to know myself.
“Have you been able to learn faster than I did? I hope so. As for leaving home, home is ideally a place where unconditional acceptance and love are bestowed in full measure. How wonderful if all of you can go on to new places where you’ll receive unconditional acceptance and love. Sidwell Friends tries to help you make a home inside yourself. In Meeting for Worship, you’ve stood before five hundred peers and faculty members and apologized to friends, shared losses and fears without embarrassment or excuse, and revealed to all of us the power of acceptance and love.”
I conclude with a short meditation:
Breathing in, I am aware of myself.
Breathing out, I am home.
Thank you Shilpa!