Yes, I took Touchy Feely (iykyk)
“What is Touchy Feely?” you might be wondering. Let’s get the facts first. Throughout the two years at Stanford, I sat through many alumni panels where I would listen, consistently, to the same answer to the question “what was your favorite class?”. You guessed it: Touchy Feely.
Also called (or actually called) Interpersonal Dynamics, it is one of the most iconic courses offered at the GSB. It is designed to help students develop emotional intelligence, build stronger interpersonal skills, and gain a deeper understanding of how their behavior impacts others. For an entire quarter, students are placed in T-groups (short for training groups), which typically consist of 12 students and 2 facilitators and meet weekly for +3 hours. No agenda, you just show up, and start interacting with each other. There is an entire arc of learning, and groups typically take a life of its own.
What I am about to share is my experience in the class: why was it transformational for me and what were my key takeaways. This does not include anything on my T-group because we had a confidentiality rule. And by no means represents the experience that other people had or should expect to have.
A side story first. My former boss at the government also graduated from the GSB. He would often refer to Touchy Feely and how impactful it was for him. And he gave me great advice: “write your journals with the thought of what you’d like to read in 10 years”. In the moment, I didn’t get it. But, as I sat down for the first time to write my journal assignment, I got it. It is easy to be highly descriptive of what happened during the three hours and get caught up in trivialities (which are perceived as so important in the heat of the moment). I’m so grateful that he shared that with me because what follows are extracts from those journals, that contain deep introspection and reflection that I would not be able to recreate right now and pay justice to such a rich moment.
I will admi it: coming into the course, I was unsure about what I could offer to the group or take for myself, given that I had already reached milestones in my personal therapeutic relationship. I have asked the hard questions, I dug deep, and I had found some answers. Little did I know I was in for a ride. As I look back, I was so wrong. Yes, therapy had helped me understand what happened to me. But I was in an exclusive relationship with my therapist and all the work was centered around me. I was blind towards what others thought of me. After all, the work was not about that. Touchy Feely added a second order derivative to my introspection work: how do other people see me? How and to what level are they impacted but what I do? How can I stay in connection through conflict?
“What needs to happen for you to reclaim your power?” my facilitator asked me. Suddenly, he named or labelled what was there lingering for me, yet undiscovered, in such a powerful and direct way. Going back to my first journals, I realized in hindsight I was already hinting towards this issue. I talked about perceiving I needed permission or queues to do something or share something; permission to feel, to say, to disagree, permission to live. And I even felt sorry for myself for the anxious feelings that emerged when I was about to embark in a risky situation, even though it might not have been a first time for me. But everything felt like a first time, and I was in panic. It was paralyzing nervousness. An avalanche of questions came to mind in every interaction: am I influential? How can someone think I am influential? If people knew what I thought about myself, how would they see me? Would they still respect me, despite my insecurities? And finally, because I hide behind this negative self-talk, are people taking me for granted for not acting as this powerful, have-it-together human? Re-reading this felt exhausting. The self-doubt was pervasive, always present, and all-encompassing.
That simple (and loaded) question was an aha moment. It was if I suddenly had a lantern to light what used to be a foggy pathway on my way to getting new answers. So, I began to use T-group to think more intentionally about queues and permission and began to observe my interaction with others and the feelings that came during those moments. I also began to pay more attention as to how others responded to my interventions, their timing, and their content. Why do I think I need permission? What is permission giving me, what does it represent? What happens if I do not have these queues? Why do I place value in these queues? If they are not there, does that mean that my experience is devalued? What type of external validation am I looking for? Am I not strong enough for needing this? Am I always going to need this? How can I break free?
My facilitator told me: “you are beginning to see yourself differently and starting to edit your old narrative”. In sum, the seed was planted for me to work on closing the gap between how others perceive me and the negative self-talk that went on in my head. As the sessions unfolded and I received encouraging and empowering feedback from my T-group about my contributions and my role in the group, I began to think if this feedback was ever going to serve as tacit permission: not built on live queues, but on accumulated experiences. I realized how practicing self-acceptance had material implications for my influence in the group. It was clear: when I believed in myself, trusted myself and operated from a place of confidence, I could project my energy in an uncontained, unapologetic way, and be the most influential version of myself.
Beyond these discoveries, which were an inflection point, Touchy Feely also helped me get more tools for my toolbox, which are the trademark of how I show up these days. I’m sharing them with the caveat that what might serve for me, might not serve for you. And that is perfectly fine. But here they are:
Delivery is important -and on some occasions, even more important than content itself.
Being aware that something that you said can have different impact on different people is a crucial datapoint for decision making that reduces the surprise factor. You can read more about this here.
I have more in common with people than what I originally thought I had. Our souls are the same, they love in the same language, and they suffer in the same language. We are united by our human kindness.
Learning how to ask for feedback is a cornerstone of the process. “What are the stories that are running through my head that I would like to get feedback on?” is the question-homework one needs to ask oneself before venturing into a feedback exchange.
Every conversation is an opportunity to connect and build bridges as long as we are offering something about ourselves that acts as a bid to the other person. There is value in listening, and there is value in asking questions; and there is even more value in disclosing context, just to reinforce that connection.
Touchy Feely was a journey. As with every journey, there was anticipation, there was discovery, and there was a sense of transformation after going through an experience that will no longer allows oneself to ignore the spark that has been ignited. It was not always easy, but it was worth it. The learning is mine, is real, and I carry it with me to serve as a safe place, to serve as compass, to serve as testimony of what is true about and for myself.
By now, you can probably guess whether I agree with the hundreds of alumni about their favorite class.
With gratitude,
Julieta
PS: that is the award I took after a class-wide voting during dis-orientation week. Something to look forward to!
Stanford Graduate School of Business, June 2023
