This is a picture of pure emotional intelligence.
“He came down to my level, in order to be an equal. He extended himself, met me at the crucial edge that divides adult from child, and he won my heart. I subliminally internalized that gesture and that attitude, and I’ve tried to be mindful of this in everything I do — to meet people at eye level, at the edge that divides one person from another.”
That’s Yo-Yo Ma, describing a touching act of emotional intelligence. In 1962, seven-year old Yo-Yo Ma and his sister played for President John F. Kennedy in Washington D.C., in a concert studded with luminaries. But, to this day, Ma remembers the actor Danny Kaye the most. Kaye crouched to meet the seven-year old Ma eye-to-eye when they spoke.
Danny Kaye was an actor, a comedian, a aviation enthusiast, a pilot, a chef, an entrepreneur, and a lifelong Dodgers fan. Above all, he was a humanitarian. He was UNICEF’s first-ever Goodwill Ambassador, a role that he held for 33 years, flying around the world to connect with children in Hong Kong, China, India, Japan, Korea, Myanmar, and Thailand. He spent his energies in what he thought was the most rewarding act of his life, informing the public about children’s needs and being an advocate for children.
Reading about Yo-Yo Ma’s encounter with Danny Kaye changed me, and hearing Ma describe this encounter, changed how I communicate with others, whether at work or outside of work.
Lock eyes with someone when I speak to them.
The human connection that happens when you lock eyes with someone, when you look straight into their eyes as you speak with them, is beautiful. I’ve found that my surroundings disappear, other people disappear, when my attention is intensely focused on the other person and when I am listening to them fully. When I lock eyes with someone, a spontaneous, invisible bond emerges. I can’t help myself as I feel myself smiling involuntarily as I “see” that person. This magic surfaces for me only when I am face-to-face with someone in front of me, engrossed in conversation. I’ve found it impossible to forge this deep connection with people in a virtual environment where even the best cameras don’t let you make eye contact.
Meet people where they are.
It reminds me to look at the world through the other person’s lens, particularly when a challenging situation arises. It makes me ignore my interpretation of the situation, to set aside my experience, and to flip the script to look at the story through their eyes. It allows me to understand that a problem may have arisen simply because the other person had a limited field of view, had limited information, or didn’t have the benefit of my gray hairs in doing a specific job. It allows me to question my own part in the problem. If a beginner who works with me makes a mistake on my watch, I ask myself first where I am culpable.
Admiral Linda Fagan, the Commandant of the US Coast Guard, puts it best when she says, “When there’s a failure, like the first question I ask myself is: how might I have contributed to this as a leader? Was there a lack of clarity on expectations, direction, intent?”
Seek to connect with the child in everyone.
We all walk around with our adult facades, and behind those masks, each of us still carries inside us that little kid with big dreams. When you glimpse that child inside a person, when someone forgets to wear their adult armor, it’s lovely. You see the real person, you see their unjaded innocence, their unfailing optimism, their joy, their beautiful silliness, their wicked humor, their propensity to laugh out loud, and the unimaginable beauty in them. They shed the artificial armor that they’ve been wearing to handle the tough, outside, adult world, and they let you in, to connect in a way that’s intangible. It’s pure indescribable magic to me when it happens, and I lose sense of time and place when I connect with that child in someone else. I see them, I love them, I am all in for them, and I can talk to them for hours. Ted Hughes puts it best in his letter to his son, where he describes the universal inner child in us all, “And in fact, that child is the only real thing in them. It’s their humanity, their real individuality, the one that can’t understand why it was born and that knows it will have to die, in no matter how crowded a place, quite on its own. That’s the carrier of all the living qualities. It’s the centre of all the possible magic and revelation.”
Begin with the beginners.
I wonder how I would feel if I walked around in a world of giants who were thrice my height. It would be intimidating to be spoken to from above, being looked down upon, and that sensation of feeling small — physically, mentally, and emotionally. Danny Kaye may have been a seasoned veteran, but he respected Yo-Yo Ma as a fellow performer, albeit a beginner. That photograph captures a moment of remarkable humility and kindness, where an old hand (Kaye) transmits belief and respect to a newcomer (Ma). Kaye’s gentle courtesy stayed with Ma.
In a recent interview with Adam Grant, Yo-Yo Ma recalled this photo, “And there’s a photo of, of me with Danny Kaye crouching down and looking at me at eye level. Now, I don’t know about you, but when you were younger, you’re still young. But when you were shorter, when an adults talk to you, do you look up at them? You’re looking up, right? But when an adult comes to your, your height to your eye level, it’s something completely different.”
Kaye’s crouching made Ma feel taller. That metaphor has stayed with me. My career has been possible because someone took me under their wing, treated me as an intellectual equal when I was a beginner, and made me stand taller. In turn, I find that I care more about throwing myself, my time, and my energy into the careers of beginners (and demonstrating my belief in them at every turn), than worrying about the careers of seasoned performers whose track record and self-belief will propel them. I’ve tended to hire beginners, throw my weight behind them, nurture their careers, and promote them, rather than hire seasoned, well-known industry names.
I don’t know whether the beginners need me or if I need them more.
Because I’ve found my purpose in beginning with the beginners.
Danny Kaye captured the heart and mind of a seven-year old by meeting him where he (Ma) was. Those few minutes stayed with Ma all his life.
And, that’s what pure emotional intelligence looks like.
