So there I was, in front of the stage, microphone in hand in a village community hall, attempting to manage the angriest public meeting I’ve ever been involved in. Everyone knew it would be angry, including the local media who were there with TV cameras to capture every juicy moment.

But being a clever facilitator I had planned ahead and had my strategies in place for managing just such a situation. The first one was to give everyone an opportunity to express what was on their mind. So…

“On your seats you found post it notes and a pen. To get us started you might like to write down your key issues and post them on the wall here, to capture your concerns…”

The reactions ranged from unpleasant to unprintable and it was very clear that they were going to do no such thing.

Smiling nervously at the camera in my face I soldiered on. Not to worry. Plan B then.

“Let’s go straight to the presentation then, to show you what works are being  planned for the local road…..”

More abuse and invitations to stick things in uncomfortable places.

Camera man leaps up again. He’s loving it. Pans across angry crowd. Swivels and tightens on my increasingly sweaty visage. “What’s this bloke gonna do now” he’s thinking…. As was I. In that moment, I had no Plan C.

So I went rogue.

“Ok, so what would you like to do? What feels most useful to you?”

It turns out that their local community committee had their own presentation to give and nothing was going to happen until it had been shared with the room. Up they came with USB stick and the meeting was theirs for the next 30 minutes.

And after that my client was able to share their presentation and we got into Q&As and discussion. And so on.

Those moments are the teaching moments aren’t they. As I drove home, a shaken shadow of my former self, I was able to reflect on what had happened and how I had managed to survive and get a discussion going. Three things I learned in that baptism of fire:

  1. Letting go of control, sharing how things should proceed. It feels terrifying but was in reality the thing that allowed us to make progress together.
  2. The more I tried to manage out the anger I was expecting and seeing, the more I exacerbated it. I was the problem.
  3. Being vulnerable, unsure and uncertain of how to proceed was not the end of the world. In fact, it allowed the meeting to take its own more useful direction.

I learned these lessons in the context of facilitating a public meeting. But have applied them in all collaborative situations since.

Collaboration often involves or evokes high emotions and it’s human nature to try to manage them out. But by sharing control, acknowledging how people are feeling and accepting vulnerability we are much more likely to connect and collaborate as humans.

That’s what I’d say to the camera should it ever be pointed in my face again.