In an Unknown Tongue

How a Group of Neuroatypicals¹ are Making Me a Better Coach

In 2017, I was asked to begin a coaching program for youth on the autism spectrum. The sponsor had become aware of the success of the PEERS^® program and was interested in using group coaching as a way to help these youth develop increased social skills. Over three years, I have learned a great deal, mostly through trial and error. My intention is not to share “best practices,” although I would be happy to speak with any coach who would like to learn from my mistakes. Rather, I wish to share what I have learned from the Chrysanthemums—this wonderful group that is teaching me how to be a better coach.

As coaches, we work to establish trust and intimacy with our clients, recognizing that a safe and supportive environment is the soil in which effective coaching grows. Before this experience, I tended to assume that if I felt comfortable with my client and they were giving me affirming feedback, then the coaching relationship must be good. When I started working with the Chrysanthemums, I felt anxious and awkward, and I was not getting the affirming cues that I customarily looked for. Fearful, I doubled down on the fundamentals: showing concern for my coaches as individuals, treating them with respect, being supportive and non-judgemental, and demonstrating consistency and integrity. Their feedback some months later told me that they were experiencing a safe and supportive environment—even though I still often felt anxious and awkward myself. I have to remind myself that my client’s perceptions and experience, not mine, are the measure of success.

“Dancing in the moment.” How to do this with the Chrysanthemums? Jacques² wants to polka, Chelsea loves hip hop, Margot is obsessed with Swan Lake, Joe is into disco, and they are all dancing simultaneously to their own music. Presence and flexibility have become my mantras. I love planning and structure, and I carry that approach into my coaching. Working with the Chrysanthemums I have been forced to learn to hold my well-thought-out plans very lightly indeed. Few sessions unfold the way I expect and sometimes, if I am willing to pay attention to what is happening and take a risk, we go someplace unanticipated. Suddenly the Chrysanthemums are dancing together in an unexpected and powerful way.

Each of the Chrysanthemums has their own unique communication style and challenges. Jean has an impressive vocabulary but struggles to interpret verbal instructions. Carol has a near-eidetic memory but has great difficulty communicating abstract ideas. Mike automatically disagrees with everything I say until he has had additional time to process what he has heard. Working with them has taught me to be much more curious about the client’s message and not just the words that they are using. I am finding this greater awareness is making me a more effective listener with all my clients; we neurotypicals are very skilled at using words to hide our meaning.

Questioning is one of my growing edges as a coach. If I am not careful, my questions can be complex and unclear. Working with the Chrysanthemums has made me much more aware of the power of simplicity. With them, my questions must be simple and clear, or I will, more often than not, get a blank or frustrated look in response. I am also learning to be more conscious of the importance of asking a powerful (and even uncomfortable) question in a non-threatening way. If I ask a Chrysanthemum a powerful question with “gotcha” overtones, they can experience something akin to panic. No learning happens then. If I do that with a neurotypical client, does it have a similar (but better hidden) effect on them? I am becoming much more conscious of the feelings of threat that even an innocent question can evoke and working harder to mitigate that with all my clients.

Clear and direct communication is foundational to effective coaching. Using “language appropriate to the client” can be daunting; however, each of the Chrysanthemums has their own unique communication challenges and preferences. I try to adopt the mindset that I am coaching someone who is just learning English. I remember to keep things simple and to remember how frustrated I become trying to express myself in my limited French. This mindset also helps me to be more attuned to the more subtle but still very real communication preferences of my neurotypical clients.

As coaches we are rightly concerned about “fit,” that intangible “something” that makes a coaching relationship work. However, I have learned that fit is not necessarily the same thing as “I feel comfortable and confident with this client.” If we want to continue to grow as coaches and as people, we need to intentionally push the boundaries of our own comfort zones. I sincerely thank the Chrysanthemums for doing this for me.

1 I learned this elegant and non-judgemental term from the works of Naoki Higashida, the author of  The Reason I Jump and Fall Down 7 Times, Get Up 8, who uses it to describe those with neurological configurations that differ from what is encountered in the majority of the population.

2 The real names of clients were changed.