The Heart of Negotiation — Tales From My Tembusu College Experience (2/3)
At the end of my third semester at Tembusu, I had finally found time to join the much talked about workshop “The Heart of Negotiation” that was conducted by Tembusu's own Prof Kelvin Pang and Prof Kuan Yee Han. It required a small class size, so demand always exceeded supply. Fortunately, I was lucky to get in.
Over the course of three full days, participants got to learn about the fundamentals of negotiation with facilitators that are made up of past participants. While Tembusu seemed to actively steer away from traditions to keep to its Home of Possibilities moniker, some elements took root. This workshop was special, because it was the longest running programme in the college, and each successive generation's work experience is enhanced by the returning contributions of the past generations that came before them
The design of this relationship allowed for collective experiences to be handed down to the next batch of participants. It was like robustly brewed chinese medicinal tea, healthy for you, but as I came to learn, very strong to ingest. One particular activity we did was a re-enactment sequence in which we had to negotiate ourselves out of a difficult situation.
I was placed in a scenario where I was the mediator between two roommates who could not stand each other and demanded that the other move out. While the play-by-play deserves its own full article, let's just say for now that the acting of my facilitators immersed me completely in the moment. There was shouting, swearing, and near physical altercations (at least from my overwhelmed perspective). After the time limit, I failed to de-escalate the issue in that scenario.
I had my dinner alone that night. I needed to consolidate my thoughts after such an emotionally exhausting experience. It was on that day when I realised why people kept telling me that I wasn't listening. Up to that point, I've always felt that I was good at negotiating because I got the end result that I desired. But a nagging criticism was that I spoke more than I listened. Perhaps I took that approach because I was naturally talkative, and a little more convincing than others. So if I could convince you with my words, wasn’t that proof that I listened enough?
That simulated conflict put me in a position when I could not get but a few words in, and because I did not listen, I was not effective in the scarce opportunities I had to intervene. Because I was always thinking about what to say next, I never truly listened to respond effectively. I was lucky to have picked up that scenario at random because it positioned me at my weakest, and that experience is etched in me till today.
One the third and final day of the workshop, I was selected to be the chief mediator in a roundtable negotiation between a dozen other parties with potentially conflicting and/or aligned interests in settling a budget distribution. I did better than I expected that day, and only because I learned just the day before what it truly meant to listen.
I am still learning, but the foundation of my documentary interviews is tied to what I learnt in those three days. I no longer use statements as my proof of listening. I ask questions - questions that are made better because I listened. Questions that I know are right because I see what how it processed in the person of whom I directed the question to. And the response that follows is a gift that could not be obtained otherwise. Perhaps that's why the creators of the workshop used the term "heart" in its title. I'll have to ask them about this over tea one day.
This article is a three-part special detailing some of my key takeaways from a critical phase in my life - three years of being a student at Tembusu College, National University of Singapore. And while I can talk for hours on what a gift it has been, I would like to share my experience in three simple lines:
A Motto: Home of Possibilities
A Title: Heart of Negotiation
A Piece of Advice: Embrace Serendipity
Click on them to read the other two entries.
