The scary meeting

Our trepidation is resolved once we see what’s on the other side. (Image by Omar González)

Let me tell you the worst message there is to receive, whether in business or personal life. It’s this:

“Please call me.”

I’m not saying that in the post-millennial, “Oh I’m such an introvert that I can’t bear to interact with a human and I prefer receiving text messages,” sense. No, I absolutely love the phone, and prefer it as a mode of communication in these not-in-person times.

The problem is the uncertainty. “Please call me” could signal anything from “I am about to fire you” to “I can’t decide between these two names for my folk-punk band and I need to hash it out with someone I trust.” It could be a variant of the dreaded “We need to talk,” but it could be just a way to say, “I want to hear your voice instead of texting or emailing.” And that degree of uncertainty triggers anxiety until the context becomes clear.

In fact, I have had a number of emails over the years with clients (parents of my students) who were indeed requesting meetings because something wasn’t going well. It was the exact thing I was afraid of, becoming reality. But even though I am still conditioned to recoil at these vague emails and fear the worst, I have learned that the meetings themselves aren’t so bad, even when they are scary at first.

Meeting with parents to discuss their child’s progress is intense even if everyone is happy about how things are going. So much is at stake, but the one person who knows equally what’s happening at school and at home — the student — isn’t usually present at such a meeting. That’s because my team is meeting with the student every day. The parent is the one who needs to be filled in. So it’s a little unsettling, like the idea that the doctor you see once a year is more familiar with some part of your body than you are.

In this fraught environment, I’ve come to see that there are still the same three outcomes that could come out of any potential conflict: We clear up a misunderstanding; we discover something that should be changed and make a plan to change it to improve things for one or more parties; or we realize that we are not well-suited to working together and make a plan to end our relationship.

The last one, in particular, concerned me deeply until I realized that it was the key to my liberation from fear and anxiety. If a client wanted something that I was not equipped to deliver, I didn’t have to bend over backwards trying to find a way to deliver it. I could gently and kindly tell the truth.

Once I understood that I didn’t have to make everything work for every client in a desperate attempt to keep their business, two things happened: I was much more clear with potential clients about what we offered, and I became empowered to approach even the scariest meetings in a spirit of collaboration and curiosity. The meeting wasn’t about being called to the carpet; it was a chance to make things better for all of us, even if that turned out to mean ending our relationship.

Of course, a client would still arrive at the meeting with their own fears and concerns. I needed to honor that and hear that. With my new outlook, though, I was less threatened by their criticism or frustration. Meetings would start out with tension and anger that gradually resolved into mutual understanding and solutions. I started to look forward to these meetings and what I would learn. The feedback was relevant and useful, and my team and I improved.

Having discovered that I could walk away, I was able to help my client recover their choices, too. No longer backed into a corner, they could explore the options with me. This was helpful to them, since being a parent can be a lonely road and it’s not always clear what is the right thing to do. I realized that, as someone who knew their child well, I could offer reassurance, praise, and perspective. Some of these meetings have had deep moments of connection and emotional release.

Released from fear of scary meetings, I am able to spend more time in a place of possibility. A meeting becomes an opportunity to invite others to play on that playground with me, where we can uncover solutions and innovations neither of us could have come up with on our own. That is the game. That is the gift.

A warm conversation is worth a million emails. At this point, my team and I actively seek out meetings with parents and students. Since open lines of communication have proven to be so powerful in improving relationships and student outcomes, we now constantly invite people to meet with us and schedule regular meetings before issues arise. It’s more important than ever — and easier than ever — in the Zoom era.

However, we never drop the “please call me” bomb. That’s just cruel.