Breaking the Fourth Wall: Normalizing the Discomfort Inherent in Growth
Act 1: Plot Setup
Designers are the method actors of the work world.
My best friend calls me The Phoenix. She’s watched me burn through a myriad of professional identities, resurrecting into a new form of myself time and time again. Many of us use our careers as a vehicle to resolve something internally. For me, being a designer means helping others discover who they really are, which mirrors my own never-ending journey to answer that question for myself.
For our clients, transformation is the goal. This requires a continuous confrontation of our very identity. There is nothing as intimately brutal as this, so if we choose the courage of transformation, we must also normalize the highs and lows of what it means to rediscover who we are.
Hollywood provides some of the most dramatic examples of how to do this. Method acting is a technique by which actors transform themselves into the characters they set out to portray. When I’m tasked with helping others grow, I do something similar: I embody that evolution fully to design the approach through my lived experience.
And I believe I do a disservice by only showing myself as a confident performer, when often the process to getting there is painful, self-confronting and humbling. This article serves to reveal and normalize this as a natural and necessary part of growth.
Act 2: Confrontation
One designer’s journey transforming into a new shape.
We created a senior leadership development program that explored the future of our partner’s industry, innovative leadership skills and a cross-cultural immersion in Rwanda. COVID forced us to reimagine what was possible by delivering a deeply immersive experience, virtually. Our challenge: Support these leaders manage ambiguity and build networks. My method acting challenge, therefore, was to feel the depth of these competencies myself to create something meaningful.
Manage ambiguity
I tried… designing custom experiences and facilitating live events in virtual reality (coming from someone with an iPhone 5 who still can’t reliably plug my computer into a projector). I got glossy-eyed over an innovative idea I couldn’t let go of: hiring a vendor to re-code a talk therapy tool as a way for participants to reflect on their leadership. Two weeks of sleep loss, rebooting, and tech support calls later, it never worked.
I learned… how my stubbornness prevented me from accurately assessing my own limitations. At the same time, I learned that having the courage to dream big gave others the confidence to try brave things that neither of us had ever attempted before.
Build networks
I tried… transporting myself to another country through books, films, podcasts, and news in order to find and invite dozens of people to speak on the topic from different perspectives. I educated myself on what it means to be an anti-racist in my profession and had to apologize more than once in moments I allowed my own bias to impact decision-making.
I learned… to be a thoughtful steward of the social capital and power I hold as a white, privileged practitioner from a wealthy nation. I also learned that the most profound lessons for our participants came from people who had never held an official leadership title in their lives.
Act 3: Resolution
Design ways to normalize the discomfort inherent in growth.
To be clear, I am no expert on acting techniques. But I do know that method acting is a controversial practice. Impressive examples like Robert De Niro’s performance in Raging Bull make us marvel at immersion’s unwieldy power. Infamous examples of tragic consequences, like Heath Ledger’s performance as the Joker in Batman, make us weary of the approach. Though I wouldn’t gain 70 pounds for my role like De Niro did, people do look at examples like this program and ask me, “was it worth it?”
I hear that question as, “Was it worth being deeply uncomfortable in the name of growth?” Reluctantly… I have to say yes. I can see a breadth and depth of myself and the world in a way I couldn’t before, like seeing a new spectrum of colors. These are gifts I can’t, and wouldn’t want to, unsee.
As someone who puts themselves through this kind of growth for a living, and supports others on their own journeys, I’ve learned some techniques that facilitators of others’ development can provide:
Puncture tunnel vision: When people are confronting their own limitations, they can’t see the forest for the trees. Help them see how their efforts directly support the larger vision, for which they’re paving the way.
Check in on progress and process: In times of uncertainty, people often want to hide until “they’ve got it all figured out.” Showing up curious in the journey communicates that they’re valuable and catches opportunities to be a bridge for needed resources.
Be a storyteller: Keep a story bank of examples in your own career on how discomfort led to learning, growth, and impact. Be a model for vulnerability to make it okay.
Celebrate what feels shameful: In unprecedented projects, many people feel a sense of inadequacy simply because they’ve never been there before. Celebrate productive risk-taking and failure in a way that they can hear.
Adapt your role: Offer different levels of support to check-in on the best way to leverage your relationship. At different points of the process, they may need strategic guidance, a connector, a brainstorm partner, a prototype tester or a collaborator willing to dip into the nitty gritty details.
I hope I look back at this article in a couple years’ time and feel embarrassed because I’ve grown to see a whole new spectrum of capability since this moment. After all, transformation is not a destination but a continuous unfolding.
The End (of this chapter)