What I have learned from working with younger and older people

Young people under the age of thirty make up more than half of the world’s population. The quest to unleash the vast potential this generation holds starts with radically challenging belief systems we have held onto for a long time, the terminology we use, the quality of the shared spaces, and the processes we have held on to for dear life in the firm belief that they work. Here are some of the lessons I have learned.

Firstly, we learn more from young people than they learn from us.

For some reason older people think they can “teach” younger people about almost everything. Sadly, many young people reinforce this stereotype by believing that  leaders ought to be people who are more experienced and older. This mindset reflects a certain level of stuckness in an outdated dominant paradigm that has long outlived its shelf-life. Young people are not empty vessels and older people not necessarily the fountains of wisdom, who can legitimately claim an exclusive right to fill these so-called empty vessels and shape the minds of the younger generation through “training and capacity building” workshops.

People of my generation cannot pretend that we have all the answers to guide young people in a fast changing world. In my experience, young people are much smarter, have the ability to be more innovative and are far more resilient than what we tend to think or acknowledge. The wisdom and abundance to navigate and lead in the 21st century lie “in and between us” (Parker Palmer).

Secondly, creating a safe and uncomfortable space fosters genuine human interaction.

For the past thirty-six years I have worked in different capacities with a wide range of people in different countries. Whether I was the lead facilitator of UN Resident Coordinators retreats or co-facilitator of life-changing Unyoke retreats in South Sudan, we always sat in circles — not in classrooms settings. I came to accept that the initial resistance from lower level UN organizing staff who preferred a more formal setting (head table, protocol, podium, data-projector, etc.) had more to do with their own fears within a context of power than with the reality that, no matter your status, human beings value spaces where the “quality of presence” (Lederach) matters more than “ego-massages” or perceived personal safety zones.

Thirdly, we change not because we are told to think differently, but because we experience something differently.

It takes courage to disrupt existing terminology, current paradigms and longstanding practices. In my experience it is possible to be more creative, but it takes courage to break the chains of habits that alienate us from our common humanness. There is an abundance of “knowledge” out there in classrooms, on the internet and in the media. So why do we think that “telling people” what we think they ought to know is more important than holding a space for genuine interaction, such as having quality one-on-one and small group conversations, walking in nature, deep story-telling, listening, art, poetry, playing and having fun together, dancing, singing and eating together? These are ways of working that engage people’s brains, bodies and spirits fully and creatively. What makes us think that reading “bullet points” on slides are the most effective way of learning and discovery? Why are programs often packed to the rafters with superficial ways of engaging and participants kept busy with listening to “experts” from mornings to evenings? Why do we still talk about “training” and not about “mutual exploration” and “practice sessions”?

In my experience, people learn by discovering and doing. That requires a commitment to re-humanize and authenticate our processes and approaches. Our task is not to lull people into familiar spaces or a false sense of comfort. Our task is to make it sufficiently safe for discomfort that pushes people to “learn, unlearn and relearn” (Alvin Toffler).

Finally, inter-generational accompaniment requires a commitment to nurture and sustain relationships over the long term.

In my experience, this is achieved in the most sustainable ways through journeys of accompaniment. Accompaniment, in the musical sense of the word, means that the sole responsibility of the accompanier is to create the background music and space for the main instrumentalist to shine. The accompanier always supports, never dominates and never seeks the lime light and credit. He or she can only be a good accompanier when there is deep listening, attunement, and humility.

There is a reason why we are called human beings. We are humans who discover how to be with one another and make sense of what we experience.

Accompaniment starts with a commitment to walk together for as long as it takes, regardless of project timelines and budgetary constraints. Practicing a “discipline of being available” is crucial to reassuring one another that we are not alone. It is in walking together that we jointly explore our common path and face our shared emerging future step by step. No-one has the answers. “Traveller, there is no path. Paths are made by walking” (Antonio Machado).