Ableism in Coaching: and bypassing the client experience (Part One)
I usually like to start these posts with some kind of anecdote that serves as a metaphor for the larger point of what we are talking about, but the topic I want to discuss over these next two posts is so broad, so important, and yet, so easily glossed over, I’m just going to get right down to it.
One of the largest ableism issues that we face in coaching is the bypassing that can, and often does occur, by the coach around the coaching client’s disability.
This can unfold in a variety of ways for a few likely reasons, however in all of these permutations, what is ultimately occurring is that the coach’s emotional comfort or perception of the world takes priority to the coaching client’s, oftentimes at the direct expense of the coaching client’s comfort and progress.
This is one of the issues that is really at the crux of the whole ableism in coaching conversation, and it’s one of a handful of original topics I conceived of when starting to write about this.
A few quick reminders before we dive in. While I’m speaking about ableism in coaching, this pops up in all helping industries including psychotherapy, medical care, and other healing modalities. Also, ableism is intersectional, so while I will personally only be speaking to the ableism corner of the issue, these issues expand substantially when intersecting with similar issues around genderism, racism, sexism, etc.
And finally, everything I offer is intended to help draw attention to areas of oversight that I’ve observed in the coaching industry. I do not share anything with the spirit of blame, anger, or even the illusion that I’ve got it totally right. I know I don’t.
But what I am hoping and working for is better. I want to do better, and I want to help share my perspective with those who are trying to do better. Doing better isn’t easy, it’s not perfect, and it’s oftentimes painfully humbling. But at least it’s better.
Anyways, coming back to the topic.
What does it look like when a coach is bypassing a client’s experience, why might it happen, and what are the solutions?
Let’s dig into a couple scenarios.
An Empathy Issue
Here’s an unfortunate truth: having a high level of empathy does not mean that you are always engaged with or even able to access that empathy.
We are all humans and therefore are all in a constant state of flux, hindered by areas where we lack awareness and amplified in areas that feel comfortable to us. The most generous person can have moments of scarcity-induced hoarding. The kindest person can sling a cutting or dismissive phrase when provoked.
Just because someone is highly empathetic - either naturally or by practice - it does not mean that they are always acting from that place of empathy.
And what I see as being two of the biggest hindrances to empathy are two things that nearly all of us have in some way - trauma and privilege.
Let’s look at privilege first.
Let’s say that I’m a coach who is coaching a client with, for example, a physical disability. If I have never personally had a physical disability, that is a privilege around my health that I carry. And while I haven’t really put two and two together that there is a privilege differential here, I do consider myself to be a baseline empathetic person who cares and means well.
But one day, my client is speaking about how angry they are after a frustrating encounter with an airline. And I, a person who has experienced my version of frustrations with airlines, might say something like, “I totally understand. Airlines can be awful.” And perhaps I may even launch into a story of my own - showcasing how I made peace with a frustrating airline encounter.
The issue is that while sharing personal stories can be very helpful, when there is a privilege difference, those same stories can be very harmful. One of the issues of living in an ableist society is that disabled people are often put in the position of minimizing their own experience as a means to be safe. So when a coach is unaware of their own privilege, a moment of intended relation can actually reinforce this reality that the nuance of the client’s disability is not being seen or understood.
Similarly, trauma can create an unintended block around empathy.
Let’s use the same example of the client’s frustrating airline encounter as a physically disabled person. However, let’s say that as the coach, I am in fact physically disabled and have experienced a lot of unresolved trauma around air travel.
In this case, when my client comes to me for coaching and support, rather than being present, expressing empathy, and asking productive questions, my mind may actually go straight back to my own experiences. Rather than empathizing, I may start sympathizing and projecting my own interpretations onto my client. Or, I may be emotionally unable to relate in the moment, and throw up a distancing wall that is not unhealthfully sympathetic, but it’s also not helpfully empathetic either.
So in both of these cases, even though I’m a generally empathetic coach, my trauma and/or my privilege create a giant block to healthfully expressing that empathy.
Best case, the result is simply subpar coaching. But again, remember that none of these examples lives in a vacuum. And it is very uncomfortable to face both trauma and privilege. So what is more likely to happen is that a coach experiences one of these areas of oversight, and it’s not that disastrous at the moment for either them or the client. But then the coach may not have the wherewithal to actually go back and check themselves. So the pattern grows.
In the worst case scenarios, the coach will carry on labeling shut down or fleeing clients as uncoachable or too emotional. The disabled clients will, in the worst cases, have their own traumas and worst fears around not being seen affirmed. And no actual solution will occur for either party.
The solution to this for coaches is to always be in inquiry with yourself. There is this really damaging belief in the coaching world that confidence looks a lot like hubristic pride in one’s own approach.
It takes enormous strength to constantly be in questioning and examination with oneself, while simultaneously carrying oneself with professional confidence. It’s not easy. But if one is to really master the art of coaching - and master it inclusively - finding out how to balance those two elements is a must.
The Relation Myth
A bit related to the above example, there is a common behavior in our society that doesn’t always translate as well as it is often intended to. And that is the impulse to tell someone who is going through a difficult time that in fact, the difficulty they are facing is completely normal.
This is often done as a means to make the struggling person feel better. And I do want to go ahead and say that sometimes, helping a client relate to a broader perspective can be very helpful.
Sometimes, when we are struggling in our own life, we are also having a meta struggle around whether or not we are weird to be struggling in the first place. In those situations, it can be helpful for the person in discomfort to know that they are not a strange alien and in fact they are still in the realm of normal human life.
In those cases, oftentimes a client will ask something like, “Am I weird for feeling this way?” But especially when we are doing so in an unprompted way, or even when this affirmation is asked for, there needs to be a quick transition to the client’s personal experience.
Because that’s who is being coached - the client, their personal experience, and their relationship to their own experience. Whether or not their experience is highly relatable to others is ultimately of no concern.
When we look at this example in the context of ableism, this type of coaching ‘technique’, or more accurately coaching oversight, is very likely to come across distinctly as bypassing behavior.
And when a disability - whether it is diagnosed or not - is at play, it also may not actually be true that everyone goes through what the client is going through.
Do you really want to tell the person struggling with their autoimmune disease that everyone has days where they feel tired? Do you really want to tell the autistic person struggling to fit in at work that everyone feels socially awkward?
Do you think that saying that will help the client? Or does saying it simply feel better for you, the coach? Does it help you feel like you relate to the client, even if what they are experiencing as a result is a distinct feeling of not being seen or understood.
Relation, unlike communication, is not a two way street. You can feel like you are just like someone else, and they can feel like you are oceans apart. You can feel like that client’s situation is exactly like every other client you have, and they can feel like the odd one out.
When in doubt, remember this: relating to someone always comes through listening, not through telling them about their experience.
And disability is a multi-faceted, varied, highly personal thing. No two disabled people relate to their disability the same way. And no two disabled people relate to an ableist world the same way.
I say this with love for my own industry, but for a bunch of people who make it their profession to listen, coaches can do a downright terrible job at listening when they themselves feel out of their comfort zone.
So if you are a coach, please consider how heavily you might be trying to relate to your client, or relate your client to others, as a way to make yourself feel comfortable.
Again, it’s not a cut and dry thing. Sometimes, a client really wants to know if they are weird or normal. And they will ask! But just because clients may ask that from time to time, doesn’t mean that constantly delivering the answer - especially when unsolicited - is an appropriate or helpful coaching technique.
And if you are a disabled client, I know it is tough, and I know you spend so much time in life advocating for yourself - but if you’re willing, I definitely encourage you to say something if a coach is bypassing your experience. At least try it once.
And if they say that your self advocacy is a sign that you’re uncoachable, that’s more a sign of the limits of their skills rather than a marker of your coachability.
And stay tuned for Part Two…