Knowing yourself in the room: Practising self-assessment and self-awareness in facilitation

Early in my facilitation practice, I was asked to design and deliver a strategy session for a team in a sector I cared about deeply. The cause mattered to me personally. I had a clear view of the direction the organisation should take. I arrived with a design that I believed was open and inquiry-based, and I believed it sincerely.

About two hours in, one of the participants stopped the conversation. She said, quietly and without hostility, that she felt the process had been leading them somewhere rather than helping them explore. She could not point to a specific moment. It was more a texture she had noticed — the questions that landed with a slightly different energy depending on the answer, the summary that emphasised certain threads over others, the moment when a dissenting view was received with a pause that felt heavier than the others. She was describing something I had not been aware I was doing.

I sat with that feedback for a long time afterwards. The honest conclusion was that she was right. Not in every particular, but in the essential pattern. My values had been in the room with me and they had been doing work I had not authorised them to do. The process had not been as open as I believed it was, because I had not been as self-aware as I needed to be.

That experience sits at the heart of what IAF Core Competency F1, Practise Self-Assessment and Self-Awareness, is actually asking of facilitators. It is not a competency about achieving some kind of neutral blankness. It is a competency about knowing yourself well enough to understand how you show up, what your presence creates for others, where your values and beliefs are doing work you may not have noticed, and how to adapt your style honestly to serve the group rather than your own comfort or convictions. The instrument of facilitation is the facilitator. Learning to use that instrument well requires learning to see it clearly.

The four strands of self-assessment and self-awareness

In practice, this competency rests on four reinforcing strands:

  • Reflecting honestly on your own behaviour and its effects on the group
  • Understanding the influence of your personal values and beliefs on your facilitation
  • Maintaining awareness of how your presence and style affect participants
  • Adapting your style to meet the needs of different groups and situations

These strands are not a hierarchy. They form a loop: reflection reveals values at work, awareness of values sharpens attention to style, attention to style opens the capacity for genuine adaptation, and adaptation generates new experience to reflect on. Practitioners who develop all four develop a quality of presence that clients often sense before they can name it — a facilitator who is genuinely attending to what they are creating rather than performing a version of facilitation they have rehearsed.

Reflecting honestly on your own behaviour and its effects on the group

This strand asks the facilitator to examine not just what they did in a session but what their behaviour produced for the people in the room. It requires the willingness to look at the gap between intention and impact, and to take the impact seriously even when the intention was good. Honest behavioural reflection is the foundation on which everything else in F1 rests, because you cannot adjust what you cannot see.

Understanding the influence of your personal values and beliefs on your facilitation

Every facilitator brings a set of values, beliefs and assumptions into the room. These are not problems to be eliminated. They are constitutive of who the practitioner is. The issue is not having values but being unaware of the work they are doing. Values that operate invisibly become influence that the group has not consented to. Values that are known and named can be managed, held, and in appropriate contexts even acknowledged.

Maintaining awareness of how your presence and style affect participants

The facilitator’s presence — their pace, tone, energy, body language, the way they hold silence, the way they receive a contribution they find surprising — communicates continuously and in parallel with everything they say. Groups read facilitators more closely than facilitators typically realise. Maintaining awareness of what your presence is communicating, and attending to it with the same care given to the design of activities, is a core dimension of the competency.

Adapting your style to meet the needs of different groups and situations

Self-awareness is purposeful only when it leads to adaptation. Knowing that you have a tendency to fill silence too quickly, or to respond with more energy to ideas that align with your own, or to become less patient when a group is moving slowly, is useful only if that knowledge enables you to do something different. Adaptation is the strand that closes the loop and makes the whole competency generative rather than merely analytical.

Reflections on honest behavioural reflection

Honest behavioural reflection is harder to practise than most facilitators acknowledge, because the primary obstacle is not lack of time or lack of framework. It is the natural human tendency to interpret our own actions charitably and to attribute the effects we do not like to circumstances rather than to ourselves. This tendency is not a moral failing. It is a well-documented feature of how human self-perception works.

Social psychologist David Dunning and his colleagues developed the concept that would come to be known as the Dunning-Kruger effect, but their broader research programme on self-knowledge is the more relevant frame here. Dunning’s work demonstrates consistently that people’s assessments of their own performance are only weakly correlated with their actual performance, particularly in domains that require sophisticated judgement. Facilitation is precisely such a domain: it involves complex, real-time decisions whose consequences unfold over time and are shaped by factors the facilitator cannot fully observe. The facilitator who leaves a session confident they know exactly what they did and what it produced is almost certainly wrong in ways they cannot detect from inside their own perspective.

Donald Schon’s concept of the reflective practitioner offers the most useful frame for what genuine behavioural reflection involves. Schon distinguishes between technical rationality, the application of predetermined solutions to familiar problems, and reflection-in-action, the capacity to think about what you are doing while you are doing it and to adjust in response to what you are learning. He also describes reflection-on-action, the retrospective examination of practice that produces the learning needed for the next engagement. Both forms of reflection are necessary, and both require what Schon calls a willingness to be surprised, to encounter the gap between what you expected to happen and what actually occurred, and to treat that gap as information rather than as noise to be explained away.

Stephen Brookfield’s work on critical self-reflection adds the crucial insight that honest behavioural reflection requires multiple lenses. Brookfield argues that practitioners cannot see their own assumptions clearly from their own vantage point alone. The autobiographical lens of personal experience produces a necessarily partial view. The lens of participants’ experience, gathered through feedback and observation, surfaces what the practitioner could not see from the front of the room. The lens of peers and colleagues provides perspectives that neither the practitioner nor the participants could generate alone. And the lens of the theoretical literature offers frameworks for making sense of patterns that individual sessions cannot fully illuminate on their own.

In practice, honest behavioural reflection means building systematic habits of multi-lens examination rather than relying on the practitioner’s internal account of how a session went. It means seeking participant feedback not as affirmation but as data, and treating the most uncomfortable feedback as potentially the most valuable. It means bringing difficult sessions to peers and supervisors rather than filing them away. And it means developing the capacity to distinguish between what you intended to do, what you actually did, and what the group experienced as a result — because these three things are rarely identical, and the gap between them is where the learning lives.

Seven practices that help me reflect honestly on my behaviour and its effects

  1. I gather brief participant feedback at the close of significant sessions. A simple round of two or three reflective questions gives me access to how the session was experienced from inside the room, which is consistently different from how it appeared from the front. I treat this as primary data rather than optional affirmation.
  2. I use a structured post-session reflection format. Within twenty-four hours of a significant session I write three things: what I intended, what I noticed I actually did, and what the gap between these tells me. This structure prevents the reflection from becoming either self-congratulation or unproductive self-criticism.
  3. I bring difficult sessions to peer supervision rather than processing them privately. The sessions I most need external perspective on are the ones I am most tempted to work through alone. The discipline of bringing them to another experienced practitioner is what makes the reflection genuinely productive rather than simply recursive.
  4. I specifically examine moments of discomfort in my own facilitation. The moments where I felt the pull to redirect, where a contribution created an internal reaction I did not show, where I moved the conversation on before it was ready, are the moments most worth examining. They are often the places where my behaviour diverged most from my intentions.
  5. I watch recordings of my facilitation when available. Seeing yourself on screen is uncomfortable and instructive in roughly equal measure. The gap between the self I experience internally and the self visible on screen is consistently informative about how my presence lands for others.
  6. I keep a pattern log across multiple sessions. Tracking recurring themes across sessions, rather than treating each one as isolated, reveals the habitual tendencies that no individual session can fully illuminate. What appears as an isolated moment in one session often turns out to be a pattern across many.
  7. I distinguish between intent and impact in my reflections. My intentions are what I meant to create. The impact is what participants experienced. These are different things, and honest reflection requires attending to both. I try to resist explaining impact away by reference to good intentions.

Reflections on understanding the influence of personal values and beliefs

Facilitation is sometimes described as a values-neutral practice, and there is an important truth in this framing: the facilitator’s role does not include advocating for particular conclusions or steering the group toward outcomes that align with the facilitator’s own views. But values-neutral facilitation is not the same as values-free facilitation, and conflating the two produces a form of professional self-deception that is among the most subtle and consequential risks in the work.

Every facilitator brings a framework of values into the room. Beliefs about what good thinking looks like, about how authority should be distributed in groups, about what counts as a legitimate contribution, about how disagreement should be handled, about the relationship between efficiency and depth, between consensus and honest dissent. These beliefs shape process choices in ways that feel like technical decisions but carry value content. The facilitator who always uses structured rounds has made a value choice about equity of voice. The facilitator who always invites challenge to the first idea has made a value choice about the relationship between individual confidence and collective intelligence. Neither of these is wrong. Both of them are value-laden, and the practitioner who cannot see their own values at work cannot know when those values are serving the group and when they are overriding it.

Research in social psychology, particularly the work of Timothy Wilson on adaptive unconscious processes, demonstrates that human behaviour is shaped significantly by cognitive and evaluative processes that operate below the level of conscious awareness. Wilson’s research shows that people’s explanations for their own behaviour are frequently post-hoc constructions rather than accurate reports of the processes that actually produced the behaviour. For facilitators, this means that the values influencing their process choices may not be the values they would name if asked. The value they consciously hold may be participatory dialogue. The value actually shaping their response to a dominant voice may be conflict avoidance, or impatience with a pace that does not match their own, or a residual belief that some contributions are more worth hearing than others.

Chris Argyris’s distinction between espoused values and values-in-use is directly relevant here. Espoused values are what practitioners say they believe: inclusion, participation, the wisdom of the group. Values-in-use are what their behaviour actually reveals. Argyris’s research consistently showed that the gap between these two is substantial, and that practitioners are systematically unable to see the gap from inside their own perspective. The work of making values-in-use visible, which Argyris called double-loop learning, requires external input, structured reflection, and the willingness to be genuinely disturbed by what it reveals.

Understanding the influence of personal values is not about achieving neutrality. It is about achieving transparency — first to yourself, then in appropriate contexts to the client and the group. A facilitator who knows their values and can hold them consciously is significantly better positioned to notice when those values are serving the group and when they are serving themselves. That noticing is the beginning of genuine professional agency rather than the continuation of unconscious professional drift.

Seven practices that help me understand and manage the influence of my values and beliefs

  1. I maintain a written inventory of my facilitation values. What do I believe about participation, authority, conflict, pace, silence and consensus? Writing these down makes them visible in a way that holding them implicitly does not. I revisit and revise this inventory at least annually.
  2. I apply the Argyris test to my practice regularly. I ask: is what I believe I value actually what my behaviour reveals? Where are the gaps between my espoused values and my values-in-use? The most productive answers to this question usually come from someone else’s observation rather than my own.
  3. I name my values explicitly to clients in the contracting conversation. Telling a client what I believe about participation, voice and authority creates accountability and invites them to say whether my values align with what the work requires. This conversation regularly surfaces misalignments that would otherwise only become visible in the room.
  4. I examine my process choices for their value content. Before finalising a design, I ask what each structural choice implies about how authority should be distributed, whose voice should carry weight, and how disagreement should be handled. This makes the value content of technical decisions visible before they have shaped the group’s experience.
  5. I pay particular attention to which contributions I find easiest to welcome. The contributions that create a sense of lift in me, and the contributions that create a sense of resistance, are reliable indicators of where my values are doing the most covert work. Tracking these patterns over time reveals the value landscape beneath my facilitation responses.
  6. I ask trusted peers what values they observe in my facilitation practice. The values others observe are often different from the ones I would name. This gap is among the most informative data available about my actual values-in-use, as distinct from my espoused ones.
  7. I hold the distinction between my values and the group’s purpose explicitly. Before each session I remind myself that my values are mine to manage, not the group’s to be shaped by. This does not eliminate my values’ influence but makes the management of that influence a conscious professional act rather than an unconscious one.

Reflections on awareness of presence and style

A facilitator’s presence is the total communication they make to the group: not only through the words they choose and the questions they ask, but through the pace at which they move, the quality of their silence, the steadiness or restlessness of their physical demeanour, the energy with which they receive different kinds of contribution, and the emotional tone they carry into the room. Groups read all of this, continuously and largely unconsciously, and it shapes their experience of the process and their willingness to engage with it honestly.

Research in social cognition and interpersonal influence demonstrates that non-verbal and paralinguistic communication accounts for a substantial proportion of the information humans use to interpret social situations. Albert Mehrabian’s often-misquoted research on communication (the 55/38/7 finding is frequently overgeneralised, but the underlying insight — that tone, body language and manner carry significant meaning alongside words — is robust) is part of a broader literature showing that the quality of a facilitator’s presence communicates in parallel with the explicit content of their facilitation. When a facilitator’s verbal message and their physical and emotional presence are misaligned — when the words invite open exploration but the pace communicates urgency, or when the question is genuinely open but the body language signals which answer is preferred — participants read the misalignment and adjust their participation accordingly, typically by becoming more cautious rather than less.

Daniel Goleman’s research on emotional intelligence is directly relevant to this strand. Goleman’s foundational work distinguishes self-awareness, the capacity to recognise one’s own emotions and their effects, as the cornerstone capability on which the other components of emotional intelligence depend. A facilitator who cannot recognise their own emotional state and its effect on their behaviour cannot reliably manage that behaviour in service of the group. They may believe they are projecting calm when they are projecting anxiety, believe they are signalling openness when they are signalling impatience, or believe they are receiving all contributions equally when they are communicating subtle preferences through the quality of their attention.

Developing genuine awareness of presence and style requires the same multi-lens approach that honest behavioural reflection demands: self-observation, participant feedback, peer observation and reflective practice over time. It also requires a particular form of courage: the willingness to encounter the gap between the facilitator you believe yourself to be and the facilitator others experience. That gap is almost always more instructive than either the self-image or the external perception alone.

Seven practices that help me maintain awareness of my presence and style

  1. I develop a clear picture of my natural facilitation style and its characteristic edges. What is my default pace? How do I typically hold silence? What is my natural energy level? How do I tend to respond when a group is resistant or slow? Knowing my defaults is the prerequisite for knowing when to adjust them.
  2. I attend to my physical state before a session begins. How I enter the room — whether I am settled or anxious, rested or depleted, present or preoccupied — shapes the emotional register of the opening significantly. I treat the time immediately before a session as preparation time for my own presence, not only for logistical arrangements.
  3. I notice my internal emotional responses to what happens in the room. The lift of energy when a contribution aligns with my expectations, the slight contraction when the group goes somewhere unexpected, the impatience when the pace is slower than I want it to be: these are not experiences to be suppressed but data to be used. Noticing them is what makes managing them possible.
  4. I ask for observation feedback from trusted peers. Having a colleague observe a session and reflect back what they noticed about my presence, rather than about the content, provides access to information I cannot generate from inside the facilitation. Their account of what my body language, pace and emotional tone were communicating is consistently more accurate than my own.
  5. I watch recordings of my facilitation specifically for non-verbal and para-linguistic patterns. How do I hold my body when listening? What does my face do when I receive a contribution I was not expecting? What is the quality of my silence? These are visible on video in ways they are not available to my own self-perception in the moment.
  6. I practise active monitoring of pace as a style variable. My default pace is often faster than what the group needs. I have learned to use a simple internal practice: count silently before responding, slow the physical delivery of transitions, and check the group’s energy before moving to the next activity. These small adjustments have more impact on the room’s quality of participation than most design changes.
  7. I treat unexpectedly flat or guarded group responses as potential data about my presence. When a group that should be engaged is not, my first question is: what am I doing that might be creating this? Rather than assuming the problem lies in the group, I examine my own recent behaviour, pace and emotional tone for signals I may have been sending that I did not intend.

Reflections on adapting style to meet the needs of different groups

Self-awareness without adaptation is a form of professional self-knowledge that produces no change in the world. The purpose of understanding how you show up is to be able to show up differently when the group needs something other than what your default style provides. Adaptation is the strand that makes the whole competency generative: it closes the loop from reflection and awareness back into practice.

The demand for adaptation is significant. Facilitators work with groups that differ enormously in culture, cognitive style, emotional readiness, power structure, professional formation and relationship to the topic being explored. The communication style that creates safety in one group creates distance in another. The pace that serves a reflective group exhausts an action-oriented one. The degree of structure that helps a risk-averse group feel contained constrains a highly autonomous one. No single style serves all groups well, and the facilitator who has only one style will inevitably underserve the groups for which it is a poor fit.

Research on adaptive expertise, developed through studies of how expert practitioners in complex domains respond to novel situations, distinguishes between routine expertise, the efficient application of well-established skills to familiar problems, and adaptive expertise, the capacity to innovate and adjust when the situation does not fit the established pattern. K. Anders Ericsson’s research on deliberate practice and expert performance shows that adaptive expertise develops through the same mechanism as other forms of mastery: sustained, effortful engagement with situations that push beyond current capability, combined with reflective analysis of what those situations reveal. Facilitators who deliberately seek variety in the groups and contexts they work with, and who reflect systematically on what each new context requires, develop adaptive expertise more rapidly than those who remain within comfortable and familiar territory.

Adaptation is not the same as shapelessness. The facilitator who simply mirrors whatever the group seems to want is not adapting; they are abdicating. Genuine adaptation is purposeful: it is the deliberate adjustment of style in service of the group’s needs, with the practitioner’s values and professional judgement remaining present and active. The facilitator still holds the process, maintains the purpose and attends to the quality of participation. They do so through a style that has been adjusted to fit the actual people in the room, not the abstract group they were imagining when they designed the session.

Seven practices that help me adapt my style to meet different groups’ needs

  1. I read the group’s needs before I finalise how I will show up. Pre-session conversations, observation of the group in informal moments before the session begins, and attention to the emotional register in the room as people arrive all give information about what style of facilitation presence will serve this group today. I use this information to adjust before I begin rather than after a mismatch has already shaped the session.
  2. I vary my pace deliberately rather than defaulting to my natural rhythm. Some groups need a facilitator who moves quickly and creates momentum. Others need one who slows down and creates space. My natural pace is mine, not the group’s. I practise checking the group’s pace early in a session and matching it rather than imposing my own.
  3. I adjust the directness of my communication style in response to cultural context. My default communication style is relatively direct and explicit. In groups where indirect communication is the norm, or where hierarchy shapes how clearly people expect a facilitator to state their views, this default creates friction. I practice having a more indirect and structurally implicit style available and deploy it deliberately when the context calls for it.
  4. I match my energy to the group’s emotional register rather than to my own state. When I arrive with high energy to a group that is carrying heaviness or fatigue, the mismatch is immediately felt and creates distance. I practise arriving at the group’s register first and then, when the work requires it, gently shifting the energy from within rather than imposing it from outside.
  5. I hold my natural facilitation preferences lightly in contexts where they may not serve. My preference for open inquiry works well in groups that trust themselves. In groups that are anxious or uncertain, it can feel unmooring rather than liberating. My preference for silence works well in reflective groups. In task-oriented groups it reads as disengagement. I practise checking whether my preferences fit the group before allowing them to shape my choices.
  6. I name adaptation explicitly when it is significant. When I change my approach mid-session in response to what the group is showing me, I often name the change and its rationale briefly. This transparency helps the group understand what I am doing and why, which tends to strengthen rather than undermine their trust in the process.
  7. I debrief my style choices with trusted peers after sessions where adaptation was most demanding. The sessions where my default style was most poorly matched to what the group needed are the ones I learn most from when I examine them externally. Bringing these to a peer conversation reveals patterns in my adaptation, and its limits, that I cannot fully see from inside the experience.

The payoff

A facilitator who has genuinely developed the capacity for self-assessment and self-awareness brings something to the room that no design sophistication can substitute for: the ability to see themselves as they are, to understand what they are creating for others, and to adjust in service of the group rather than in service of their own comfort, habits or convictions. This quality of self-knowledge is both a professional discipline and a form of care for the people who trust the facilitator with their most important conversations.

Groups experience this quality even when they cannot name it. They feel the difference between a facilitator who is genuinely attending to what they are producing in the room and one who is executing a rehearsed performance of facilitation. The first creates conditions for honest engagement. The second creates conditions for careful management of impressions. The first invites participants to bring more of themselves. The second teaches them to bring what the facilitator seems to want.

The lasting payoff is a practice that keeps growing. Self-awareness is not a static achievement. Every session generates new information about how the practitioner shows up, what their presence creates, where their values are doing visible and invisible work. The facilitator who has developed genuine reflective capacity treats each engagement as a source of learning about themselves, and that learning continuously improves the quality of what they are able to offer the next group. The instrument of facilitation is the facilitator. Learning to play it well is a lifetime’s work.

Frequently asked questions about IAF Core Competency F1: Practise self-assessment and self-awareness

What does F1 actually cover?
F1 asks facilitators to know themselves well enough to understand how they show up in the room, what their presence creates for the people they work with, how their personal values and beliefs are influencing their facilitation, and how to adapt their style to serve different groups rather than their own defaults. It is a competency about the instrument of facilitation — the person doing it — rather than about the methods or processes they use.

What is the difference between self-assessment and self-awareness?
Self-assessment is the deliberate, structured examination of your own behaviour, choices and impact: looking back at what you did and what it produced. Self-awareness is the real-time capacity to notice what is happening in yourself as it happens — the emotional response to a contribution, the pull toward a particular direction, the physical signal that your engagement is shifting. Both are necessary. Self-awareness without self-assessment produces sensitivity without learning. Self-assessment without self-awareness produces reflection that misses what was most significant in the moment.

Do facilitators need to be neutral about their own values?
No. Neutrality about values is neither possible nor desirable. Every facilitator holds values, and those values shape their practice whether or not they are acknowledged. The relevant question is not whether you have values but whether you know what they are and whether they are serving the group or overriding it. The goal is not value-free facilitation but value-transparent facilitation: knowing your values well enough to hold them consciously and manage their influence on the group’s work.

How does self-awareness support neutrality on content?
You cannot manage an influence you cannot see. When a facilitator’s values and preferences are operating invisibly, they shape process choices in ways that carry content implications the facilitator has not authorised. The facilitator who knows that they respond with more energy to ideas that align with their own views, or that they move conversations on when they disagree with the direction, has the information they need to correct for these tendencies. Without that self-knowledge, the correction is not available.

What is the most common failure mode in this competency?
The conflation of good intentions with good impact. Most facilitators have genuinely participatory intentions, and the confidence those intentions provide can mask the ways in which their actual behaviour is diverging from those intentions. The facilitator who believes strongly in participant wisdom but whose process choices systematically privilege the confident and the articulate is not failing in intention. They are failing in self-awareness — the capacity to see the gap between what they mean to create and what they are actually producing.

How do I develop self-awareness in real time, during a session?
By building the habit of a parallel observational track alongside the primary facilitation track. This means noticing your own internal responses as they arise — the sense of lift or contraction when a contribution lands, the pull toward or away from a particular direction, the physical signal of impatience or discomfort — without acting on them automatically. This parallel track develops through practice and through the habit of reflective examination after sessions, which gradually makes the real-time noticing more available.

What should I do when I notice my values actively pulling against the group’s direction?
Pause before acting. The pull itself is not a problem: it is data about where your values and the group’s direction are in tension. The question to ask is whether the tension reflects a genuine process issue — the group is missing important information, or its way of working is preventing honest engagement — or whether it reflects a content preference that is yours rather than the group’s. If the first, acting on it is your professional responsibility. If the second, holding it is.

How do I adapt my style without losing my authentic facilitation presence?
By understanding that adaptation is not about becoming a different person. It is about bringing different aspects of yourself to the foreground in service of the group. Your values, judgement and professional identity remain present throughout. What you are adjusting is the expression of those through pace, tone, directness, energy and structure. The facilitator who can move between a slower and more spacious presence and a quicker and more directive one is not performing inauthentically. They are offering a wider range of the same authentic self in service of different contexts.

How does F1 relate to F2 and F3?
F1 is the foundation on which F2 and F3 depend. Acting with integrity (F2) requires knowing your values well enough to live by them under pressure, which presupposes the self-knowledge that F1 develops. Trusting group potential and modelling neutrality (F3) requires managing your own influence on content, which requires the self-awareness F1 cultivates. Without F1, both F2 and F3 risk becoming performances of their respective values rather than genuine expressions of them. The F group as a whole describes the facilitator’s inner life and outer conduct: F1 is where that inner life is known, F2 is where it is held to a standard, and F3 is where it is placed in service of the group.

Is there a risk that too much self-focus undermines the quality of facilitation presence?
Yes, and it is a real one. The facilitator who is so preoccupied with monitoring their own responses that they lose genuine presence with the group has inverted the purpose of self-awareness. The goal is not continuous internal audit. It is the development of a background attunement — a quality of knowing yourself well enough that the monitoring is mostly unconscious, freeing conscious attention for the group. This kind of attunement develops through deliberate reflective practice over time, not through anxious self-surveillance in the moment. Supervision and peer review are the contexts in which this background knowledge is most effectively built.

What has been most difficult for you to see honestly about how you show up as a facilitator?

Where do your values most often create visible or invisible work in the sessions you facilitate?

What would it mean to adapt your style more fully to meet the group rather than yourself?

Thanks for reading!

Explore IAF Core Competency F: Model positive professional attitude

This article is part of a three-part series on the facilitator’s inner life and professional conduct.