Three Things Coaches Need to Understand to Maximize their Impact in These Times

Dear friends who are coaches:

I’ve been thinking about you lately. You are experts at helping people to overcome their fears and find their purpose. That is why you are so essential in this time when many people are afraid about the state of the world, the erosion of democratic norms, and the elevation of hate.

Some of the people you work with may be fearful for their own safety or the safety of people they love. Some are anxious because they want to stand up to the forces of authoritarianism but are not sure what to do other than attend marches or call their representatives. You may be feeling that way yourself. If so, here are three things I’ve learned as a former spiritual teacher who benefited from coaching as I became a nationally-known leader in nonviolent direct action:

People need help applying the grounding and somatic skills you teach, not only in their daily lives, but also in the streets and public squares.

I train people in nonviolent skills, such as protecting polling places from disruptors, peacekeeping at protests, and committing civil disobedience. In each of these situations, the ability to stay calm is key.

Unfortunately, many people are showing up with higher than usual levels of anxiety, which makes them quick to take the bait when counter-protesters appear, or quick to believe rumors that distract the crowd from their purpose. Distracted people are also less likely to notice moving vehicles, or notice when their jacked up nervous systems are impairing their judgment.

Here’s why this is so crucial: Those who want the United States to move toward authoritarianism want pro-democracy protests to be full of fear, chaos, and division.

Given this, we need more people offering grounding before protests, since it’s not necessarily a skill held by the organizers. For example, before the June No Kings march in Philadelphia, the lead peacekeeper was focused on distributing maps and walkie-talkies to the ten of us who would be leading dozens of other peacekeepers (also called marshals or safety team). Most of the peacekeeping leads had never played this role before, and none of us had done it with a crowd of 100,000 people! Sensing everyone’s jitters, I announced that I would offer a grounding exercise for anyone who was interested.

People were eager to step out of the hectic energy for a few minutes. We felt the earth beneath our feet, reached our arms to the sky, and breathed deeply together. Grounding the leaders helped their teams, which in turn helped the march stay calm and focused, despite a rumor that someone was releasing snakes into the crowd. Really, there was just a guy who brought his pet snakes to the protest, but in these times people are primed to believe the worst.

Grounding exercises can’t guarantee everyone’s safety, but they can prepare people to keep their center, which can prevent conflicts from escalating. In my own nonviolence trainings, I’m spending more time reminding people to pay attention to their bodies, so they will notice quickly if they get dysregulated, and can either take steps to regulate their nervous systems, or step away if they are not in the right frame of mind to help a situation.

If you coach people who are among the millions showing up in the streets–whether at protests or ICE watches in their neighborhoods–this would be a great time to share the somatic and grounding tools you’ve learned over the years and explicitly encourage people to use them when they take public action. Whether they share a breathing exercise with a group, as I did, or just close their eyes on a park bench with a friend, I know from experience that grounded energy can spread in a crowd as surely as anxiety.

Your clients need deeper help working with their fear.

When I first felt called to become a climate activist, I found many useful tools in coach Tara Mohr’s Playing Big course. I especially appreciated her teachings on fear and the many practices she shares in her book, Playing Big. One involves imagining a scary possibility and allowing your mind to play it out, repeatedly asking, “Then what?” What would happen if I committed civil disobedience? Well, I might get arrested. Then I would probably spend several hours in jail and pay a modest fine. These seemed like risks I could handle. (Those hours in jail might have been scarier for someone trans, on a visa, or with major health issues, to name a few examples of factors that make such action riskier.)

When I actually was arrested as part of the campaign to stop the Keystone XL pipeline, it was empowering–especially when the pipeline was paused because of such actions. Over time, participating in many nonviolent direct actions helped me let go of some of my “good girl” social training and worries about what other people think of me, making me a better leader.

Today, that Tara Mohr fear exercise is still very useful, but the answers are less predictable and more frightening, especially for those confronting the Trump administration. In all likelihood, the risk of arrest hasn’t changed much if I commit civil disobedience on the streets of my Democratic city and am prosecuted by our progressive District Attorney. But if I trespass on federal property, like an ICE facility or detention center? I could face federal charges, which could mean a lot more time in jail. Even more frightening, the odds of violence increase if I’m arrested by ICE or Homeland Security, instead of the branch of the Philadelphia Police Department trained to deal with nonviolent protesters.

I am a white woman, so my risk is lower than for people of color, but I have studied enough social history to know that my relative safety is conditional. The killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti (as well as several less publicized deaths of people of color in ICE custody) have illustrated the danger to all of us when poorly trained and highly armed men feel above the law. Still, the risk to any one person who joins the resistance is small compared to the risk to all of us if no one does.

Fortunately, thousands of average people in Minnesota understood this and refused to be intimidated, even after ICE started following those bringing food to their immigrant neighbors. Minnesotans not only continued their mutual aid; they showed up singing in the streets despite the cold and risk of retaliation. This is a reminder that people can do scary things even when the risks are real. In fact, history shows that they are more likely to step up in response to oppression. As one Minnesota activist noted, people became more determined in the face of intimidation because ICE’s tactics violated their sense of right and wrong.

Scanning the online coaching world, many suggestions for managing fear seem predicated on the assumption that our flight or fight response is just an over-reaction. It still is sometimes, but not always. All of us who support people to work with their fear have to get honest about the fact that people might be called to do things that are genuinely risky to their safety, not just their egos. All of us have to use more discernment with our own fears, understanding when we need to act despite them, and when they are deep intuitions that should be heeded.

My hope is that coaches will look at their tools for navigating fear and share what still works, and notice what may need some reframing–not only for those stepping into resistance roles, but also for those being attacked because of their identifies. Many social movements have found that collective practices, like singing and walking together, are essential ways to manage fear. Some of you are responding to the collective need of these times by holding space for your communities to be together and process their feelings, which is itself extremely helpful.

Consider what else you offer that can be adapted to support those who feel called to change the world.

Activism is often assumed to be an area where you just follow your heart, no skills or strategy required. Then, when calling your senator or standing on a street corner with a sign doesn’t lead to change, people get discouraged or fall into despair. This happened to me after I dragged my kids to countless vigils opposing the invasion of Iraq.

The good news is that today there are far more trainings and resources available than when I became an activist. There are people who have long studied how to thwart authoritarianism who are sharing what they know. As a result, ordinary people are engaging in strategic campaigns that are building grassroots power, such as the successful campaign to get Avelo Airlines to stop working with ICE, or the boycott of Disney that reversed the FCC’s attempted censorship of Jimmy Kimmel.

While some coaches, such as Andréa Ranae Johnson or Aminata Desert Rose Plant Walker Fire Woman, have long helped people who want to make the world more just, many are newer to this space. I’ve heard some coaches say that as empaths they are just not wired to go to large protests. That’s fine! That’s not the only way to make an impact, and it’s not the most effective way to thwart authoritarianism anyway. You don’t need to be an expert in social change movements to encourage your clients to find resources, just as you don’t need to be an expert in event planning or opera to support someone who senses a new calling to pursue those fields.

Many coaches already teach people how to approach a change that feels overwhelming by breaking it into doable parts. This is a time when people need to hear that taking small steps applies to social change as well. No one needs to save the entire world. They just need to find their next step, though in this case the steps are best undertaken with other people who can accompany them and keep them in motion. The more people do this now, the safer we will all be.

Martha Beck said on a recent podcast that the time of individualism is over. This may be the biggest stretch for coaches who have focused on individual empowerment, especially those coaches whose brands are about helping people pursue financial success. I once met a famous coach at a conference who told me I should give up training people in civil disobedience because it wasn’t lucrative. Let’s just say that I’m very glad I didn’t listen to her.

I think of myself as being part of an ecosystem, where my role helps those playing other roles and vice versa. In this framework, what the community needs becomes part of my equation, even as I seek to listen to my inner wisdom about what is mine to do. This is a tricky aspect of discernment. Boundary setting and protecting our energy are still important, maybe even more so. But they are not the only things that are important, especially in crisis periods like the recent mobilization in Minnesota. My short term interests and our society’s long term interests need to both be considered.

In my latest book, Common Ground: How the Crisis of the Earth is Saving Us from Our Illusion of Separation, I share the stories of environmental justice activists who are making a real difference, across the United States and the world. None of them are doing it alone. None of them are doing it overnight. Social change, like individual change, is sometimes circuitous. In fact, the Indigenous leaders whom I interviewed often spoke in terms of generations. I find that moving away from an impatient individualism and seeing my work as a small part of a larger whole grounds me in hope and makes what is mine to do feel more manageable.