2424 FT.COM/MAGAZINEMARCH 7/
warmthIhad shared before. Butsomething
aboutmehadchanged. Iwas no longer
transportedbythe stories: nowIwas trying
to decideif theywerelying.
Somewherealongtheway, Ihad picked up
theinstincttobeonguardagainstotherpeople’s
despair,againsttheirneed,thinkingonlyof
theirpotential.Wheredid Ilearnthis?Despiteallthetalkofleadershipand
changemaking,whatyouactuallylearnat
HarvardBusiness School is howtobebelieved.
Someof that,weweretaught,isachievedby
developingareputationforhonesty,for
precision.Someis communicatedthrough
signalsandcodes, thekindwe have in every
profession.Myclassmatesand Ihad privileged
upbringings:notall wealthybutfromeducated
families(likemine,whowere doctors),or
trainedatprestigiousfirmsand universities.
Wehadinternalisedthe languageof thetrusted
classes. Over hundredsofcase-method
discussions,wetaughtit to eachother.
HereissomethingIlearnt:beforewedecide
howtolistento astory,weput peopleon a
spectrum.Do theycometo us withneed or
potential?Shouldwe listenwithourguard
up or ourimaginationon?Will aligningwith
thispersonbenefitordrain us?Howdoes the
storytellersignal,beforethatfirstinteraction,
thattheyare worthyof an unguarded,
imaginative listen?
Anyonewithabossknows thebasics:
lock eyes,shakehandsfirmly,under-promise,
over-deliver, repeat.AtHBS,wepicked up
otherways to affect theneed-potentialcalculus:
whenpitchingsomething,dismantlescepticism
by arguingagainstyourself.If anarrative lacks
complexity,put it intoan intellectually
satisfyingframework.Andso on.
Themostimportantsignalis this:youdon’t
need them–theyneedyou.Yourvalueliesin
thevastnessofyourpotential,sowalkintoevery
roompotentialfirst.
Later,IwentthroughmyHBSlistandtriedto
figure outwhatit wouldbe likeifarefugeeinan
asyluminterviewhadthissametool kit.Most
refugees tryto wintheinterviewers’affections▶Howtobe
believed
Whydowelistento
refugeesinone wayand
Harvard Business School
studentsin another?
ByDinaNayeri
WhenIwasagirlinIran,mycousinsandI
wouldwaitfornightfallto gatherin theback
gardenof ourgrandparents’house.We’d
whisper as ourgrandfatheremerged, grandly,
to tellus dramatic,fantasticalstories. Wehung
on thetwistsandturnsof thetaleshewove
to transportus.Healwaysfoundareasonto
takeout hisfalseteethand,by thetimehe did,
we were primedtobelieve hewasthemonster
withtheachingjaworthe oldmanwhodrank
tooth-meltingpoison.
Twentyyearslater,atHarvardBusiness
School, Isat acrossfromafriendandlistened
as he described abusiness venture. Thattoo
wasinvented; we were in amocknegotiation.
Eachof us hadaset of informationwe could
shareorhide,pluswhateverbackstorywe
wantedtoadd.
Ilistenedtohis phrasing,searchingfor
qualifiersthatmightforce hishand.Howmuch
moneywas he willingto give up?Whichof the
contracttermswere vitalto himbutless so to
me?Whentheprofessorlaterrevealedthe
negotiatingpositionof both characters,Ifelt
triumphant,myfriendfeltbetrayed. Not
becausehe hadlost–but becauseIhad listened
to hisstoryin theunkindest way, diggingfor
vulnerability.Ihadn’t seenhimat all.
It took mealongtimeto realisethatIlistento
storiesdifferently. Ibecameawareofitwith the
sameastonishmentandbetrayedfurythatmy
four-year-oldfeltwhenshelearntthatthere’s
no correlationbetweengenderandhairlength.
WhatelsehaveImissedbeforenow?
At 10 yearsold,Iwas livingin arefugeecamp
outsideRome.Mymother,brotherandIhad
escaped Iranthepreviousyear andhadbeen
placedtherebyUNHCR.Wespent mostof our
timereminiscingwithfellowresidentsover
cheapcupsof tea,comfortedbythe instant
bond of ashared lifestory.Afteralmosttwo
yearsof displacement,myfamilywas granted
asylum–and latercitizenship–inthe US.
Fast forwardto 2016,Iwas amotherin a
worldhostileto refugees;Icravedtounderstand
mypast.So, Istartedspendingtimewith
refugees again.Ifoundlocal immigrant
communities, expectingthesameeaseandANNALEADER