Vignettes

 Facilitation Fear Lab: The Expert

Every week, I lead an event called Facilitation Fear Lab, where leaders of all kinds get to play out their greatest fears.

In my experience, when we’re scared of something, we start to avoid it. I’ve often constructed my events to make sure that certain situations cannot occur. I’ll schedule activities tightly, so that there is no space for me not knowing what to do. I’ll frame agreements such that love and support are welcome, but not conflict. I’ll choose to lead only groups I identify with and know well, to make sure I will not make a faux pas.

The problem is, the tighter I wind myself into these boxes, the less flexibility and skill I have as a leader. But, as a leader, the scariest thing is to end up in control of a situation I don’t know how to manage.

This was the impetus for Facilitation Fear Lab. It gives leaders and facilitators a space to play out the situations they don’t know how to manage, or have been avoiding, in a place where they can pause or get feedback or see others lead.

Lately, I’ve been having a lot of fun applying the Relating Languages model to coaching leaders in the labs. I got a special opportunity to do this a few weeks ago, when a company asked me to lead a Fear Lab for their leadership trainers.

I popped onto the Zoom screen around noon, and was greeted by 13 multicultural faces. My contact in the company introduced me. I told the group, “Today is going to be experiential, fun, and probably challenging. The more you can really let yourself try on these scenarios - even though you know they’re role-play - the more you’ll get out of it.”

I had the group brainstorm some situations they might like to play out - groups they had led in the past that hadn’t gone well, moments they had seen another facilitator fail at, situations they were avoiding because they didn’t know if they’d be able to handle what came up. 

We voted on the ones that the most people found difficult, and chose the top-voted option. The chosen scenario was what I call The Expert Dilemma. 

The Expert Dilemma
You’re teaching on a topic, and one participant in the group raises their hand. When called on, they say something along the lines of “I just want to add a comment here. I have some knowledge in this field…” They proceed to expound on their knowledge for several minutes, derailing everything you’d wanted to teach, and either boring the group to tears or usurping the power in the room. In Relating Languages terms, they have taken over the group with Storytelling.

“Who wants to facilitate this scenario?” I asked the leaders in the room. When there wasn’t a response, I checked with Marco, the man who had suggested the scenario: “Do you want to try first?” “I’d rather see someone else lead it,” he said. “I already know that what I tend to do doesn’t work.” 

A woman raised hers: “I’d like to try.” 

“Great!”, I responded. “Who would like to be our expert?”

Two men raised their hands. As the second went up, there were scattered laughs and sniggers. I looked at him and said, “Sounds like this group thinks you would make a good Expert! Let’s have you play that role.” He gave me a smile and a small bow. “My name’s Rick,” he said.

I asked the woman, whose name was Cassidy, “What would you like to teach on? Something basic that you know well.” “Shadow work,” she responded. “I’ve been teaching events on how to own and re-integrate the dissociated parts of ourselves.”

The group and I did a little more brainstorming to set up the situation, and then I said “Time in!”

 

Round 1: Fight!

Cassidy started the role play. “Hello, everyone. Thanks for coming to my event today. We’re going to be exploring the shadow. The shadow is a representation of the disowned, disconnected, or othered parts of ourselves that we push into the background so that they don’t threaten our identity. By exploring these parts, we can gain-”

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted. “Could I add something here?”

Cassidy paused. I could see her warring between the knowledge that the Expert was about to take over, and the natural inclusion she would have practiced in this scenario. Make it real, I prompted her silently, and cheered internally when she said, “Sure.”

“I’ve been teaching about shadow for over 20 years, and I’d just like to add a few points of clarification,” Rick the Expert impersonator began. “The idea of shadow comes from Carl Jung’s work. I don’t think any teaching on the topic can be complete without mentioning that. Jung is a famous figure in psychology, known for identifying multiple archetypes that people can embody, and his work on shadow-”

“Rick, can I interrupt you for a second?” Cassidy interrupted. “Can you tell us why you’d like to bring this knowledge now?”

“I thought it would be useful to the group,” Rick responded. “As I was saying-”

“Actually, Rick, I’d like to continue with what I was saying, and have you bring your comments at the end. I really appreciate what you’re saying, but I want to get through my teaching first. Is that okay?”

Rick furrowed his brows. “Yes, of course. But I just want to finish this one point. Carl Jung saw the shadow as an important part of identity and self-realization. Without the shadow, he thought, we couldn’t be whole…”

I paused the scenario there: “Time out! Let’s get a round of applause for Cassidy and Rick!”

 

The First Debrief

The group burst into applause and laughter at how well Rick had played his role. Cassidy breathed out a sigh of mingled frustration and relief. 

“How did that go for you?”, I asked her. 

“I felt like I was losing the group,” she said. “I noticed that I just wanted to let Rick keep talking, because I didn’t know how to stop him.”

I checked with the group to see how they felt when Rick started taking over, and what the result would have been if Cassidy gave in and let him. Some people said that they enjoyed what Rick was bringing and wouldn’t have minded hearing more, but would have felt confused about where the group was going after that. Others said they felt protective of Cassidy. Some were sad that they hadn’t gotten to hear what Cassidy wanted to say, before Rick stepped in. 

I turned to Cassidy. “It sounds like if you had let Rick keep going, without setting some kind of time container or explicit power transfer, the group would have felt confused. I noticed that you tried to stop Rick several times, and it didn’t work. What do you think happened there?”

Cassidy scratched her head. “I don’t know.”

“Here’s what I noticed,” I explained. “I have this idea of the Relating Languages - that in any given moment, we are Questioning, Observing, Storytelling, or Challenging, and that we can switch between these languages as needed, if we become skilled in them. 

“You were leading with Questioning. Rick was Storytelling. Storytellers want to finish their idea; they want to get their point across. The more questions you give them, the more they’ll talk. So when you asked Rick why he wanted to bring his information, it just gave space for him to keep speaking. Even when you tried to set a boundary - saying “can you leave your comments until the end” - you asked him for permission afterwards, which passed the attention back to him again!

“When you’re dealing with an Expressive language, like Storytelling or Challenging, you often have to bring an Expressive language to meet it. Using a Receptive one won’t match the energy you’re receiving.”

The group was nodding. “Let’s try again,” I suggested.

This time Marco, who had given the Expert scenario, was willing to facilitate. We set up the situation again and dove in.

 

Round 2: Fight!

Marco chose to teach on healthy eating. He had barely started speaking when Rick interrupted:

“Excuse me, can I say something?”

He barely even waited for a reply before continuing, “Healthy eating is a real passion of mine. I used to weigh 60 pounds more than this! I thought it might be helpful if I share some of the things that got me there.”

Rick looked at Marco expectantly, giving him a chance to respond. Marco closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Rick, I’m feeling torn right now…I want to give you a chance to talk, but I also feel contracted at the idea of giving over the leadership. Can you save your share until the end?”

I facepalmed internally. Don’t give him an opening!

Rick, true to form, took the chance. “Of course, I’d be happy to, I just wanted to say a few things now. I imagine others might want to hear them, right?”

The group nodded, escalating the situation. Marco was really losing them now. And he wasn’t stepping forward to stop it: he was trying to stay centered, with one hand on his chest. “Can we all take a deep breath together?” he asked. “Rick, can you take a breath with me?” 

“Of course,” Rick responded. “Just let me finish what I was saying-”

I paused the scenario here. The group burst into a shout of laughter as the tension was released. “Don’t you wish you could pause a situation like this in real life??” I joked.

 

The Second Debrief

I asked Rick what his experience of this second round had been. “I didn’t really even notice that Marco was trying to stop me,” Rick said. “When I was playing that Expert character, I wasn’t very aware of others; I just wanted to say my piece.”

‘Marco,” I asked, “how did you feel trying to intercede with Rick?”

“I felt pretty calm,” he said. 

“That makes sense to me,” I replied. “I noticed that you defaulted toward Observing under pressure. You went back into yourself, tuned into your body sensations, started watching what was going on and speaking only when the moment felt right. The problem is…while you stayed calm, the rest of the group may not have been in that same mode.” I looked around and saw others nodding. “Yeah, I was pretty uncomfortable,” one woman called out. “I didn’t know what was going on.”

I continued, “Observing is a good language to use under stress. But, when you’re facilitating, you may have to hold the group more actively, so that others can feel comfortable. Both Observing and Storytelling - what Rick was doing - are Didactic languages, meaning that they prefer one-way communication. Storytelling puts information out, Observing takes information in. When you need to make facilitation more dynamic - which is usually the case in tough scenarios - you may need to bring in Interactive energy, through Questioning or Challenging.”

The Collective Shadow

“In fact” - I looked at the whole group - “There’s something I’ve noticed about the culture of your group. Want to hear?”

“Ooh, yes!” They nodded eagerly. Relational groups always want feedback on their shadows.

“Okay. Speaking of Jung, it seems like there is a disowned energy in your group. Not one of you, in your facilitation - or even in this event, with me as the leader - brought Challenging energy. You couldn’t cut off the Expert. You couldn’t set a clear boundary. And you haven’t pushed back against a single direction I gave.”

The group members looked at each other, surprised. 

“What would it have been like for you,” I continued, “If I had told Rick “I don’t want to hear from you right now - please keep your comments to the end” and then just kept talking?”

“Rude,” said one trainer. “Uncaring,” said another.

“Okay, let’s play it out,” I said. I timed us back into the scenario and facilitated it myself, this time, using just that intervention with Rick. After setting the boundary, I kept talking, not giving him a space to intercede. He shut up immediately. Then I timed back out.

The group seemed slightly aghast. I turned to Rick: “How did that feel?”

“It was fine,” Rick said. “It felt clear. I got that this wasn’t my time to talk.”

I turned back to the group. “Challenging energy is useful, and necessary, when you are holding a higher goal than someone’s comfort in the moment. When you’re facilitating, you’re holding the good of the entire group. And, you’re responsible for keeping that group on track towards whatever outcome you’ve promised them.

“When you Challenge, you could set a boundary, like ‘Keep your comments to the end’ or ‘I’m not open to that right now.’

“You could point out something you see directly, like ‘Rick, I asked you to hold your comments, and you’re still talking.’ 

“You could ask a challenging question, like ‘Are you willing to hold your comments?’ or ‘What do you need to move on from your point?’ 

“You could even make a cutting joke, like ‘Rick, man, if I let you respond to every point I made, we’d be here for 2 days.’ If you include the person in the joke, that can be a real power move.

“The point is, if you’re putting your own fear of offending the other person over the value group time, you’re serving yourself, not them. The Challenging language is like holding a flame - it can burn you and other people, but it can also light the way faster than questions or observations about how it feels to be in the dark.”

“What comes up for all of you, hearing that?” I asked the group.

There was silence for a few moments. Then Cassidy spoke up. “I don’t know, I think there are other ways to do it that seem more caring. What if you’d asked Rick to teach a piece at the end, instead of speaking now?” 

“Or checked with the group about whether they wanted to hear the rest of what he was saying, instead of what the facilitator was teaching?” chimed in another leader.

The whole group started brainstorming back and forth, totally forgetting about me. It was the most animated they’d been for the last two hours. 

I grinned internally. That was the first challenge they gave me all session. Guess they just needed a push! 

I had no problem with them usurping the group. I had lots of practice in Challenging from leading corporate events; I knew I could step in and get them back on track when I needed to. 

But for now, I sat back, and watched their culture change.

 

Navigating Difficult Situations Using RL

The Guarded Father

“My dad has a sort of wall around going deep. i will open up to him about how i am feeling, and he will kind of judge me for my struggles. He sees emotions and pain as weakness. I don’t really know how to talk to him, we just small talk and it is draining for me... maybe I simply don’t have his consent to go deep with him! He doesn’t really open to anyone or know how to, or that it is safe and important to... he is sort of old/traditional in a way of seeing what strength means.” - Julie Sarah

What does strength mean?

While women are taught to pay attention to and respond to others’ emotions - what I would call the “External” focus of any Relating Language - men, especially those of older generations, were taught to ignore these emotions. Seeing them in other men was taboo; seeing them in oneself, just as much so. Better to repress than to express was the battle cry of masculinity, causing anger - a less repressible emotion, and a less ‘vulnerable’ one - to become the only allowable outlet.

Repressed emotions tend to distance us from our emotional and sensitive (lit: able to sense) selves. So, trapped inside their own heads, men of this upbringing tend to end up on the internally-oriented side of the RL spectrum. 

They become Chronicling Storytellers, talking at length or giving advice without noticing if others lose interest, and even getting angry at any interruption (“Disrespect!” my dad would say). 

They become Scientist Questioners, probing with questions for signs of weakness, suspiciously checking the presence or lack of safety. 

Or, similarly, they become Guardian Observers, “strong and silent”, going quiet out of self-consciousness or exhaustion. They will not speaking until they can be sure their comments will be heard (which they may never feel quite enough).

Last, perhaps they end up as Debating Challengers, using fractious comments or biting jokes to keep people away.

Self-orientation protects people from noticing, and therefore feeling, disapproval from the outside. When it is our own emotions that cause this disapproval, we create what Julie calls her dad’s “wall” - a little bubble that somehow manages to let in neither our own reactions or others’. Self-orientation becomes combined with self-disconnect. 

So, how can you relate with a man of this type? 

The interventions differ depending on which primary language he is speaking - advice/stories, probing questions, silence, or sarcasm/debate. However, the general rule is: meet him in his language.

Going deep with someone repressed will mean diving down thousands of feet. They know that this will give them the bends before they even get close to their core! So, you have to take that journey with them, at their own pace as much as you can. 

If your dad is a Storyteller, ask him for stories that have more meaning to him. For my grandpa, I asked about his time being a radio operator during the war, and about what it was like emigrating to America. Or, if your dad’s form of storytelling is giving information, ask him for advice on something you could use.

If your dad is a Challenger, banter with him. Meet his debating or cutting comments with a joke - not one at his expense, but one that meets the energy he is bringing. Don’t puff up or back down. I’ll add some examples of this at the end.

It sounds like Julie’s dad is a more Expressive (Storytelling or Challenging) than Receptive (Questioning or Observing) type. But, in case anyone out there has a dad of another type, let’s go through the whole range of options...

If your dad is a Questioner - somewhat rarer in men of this upbringing - answer his questions with vulnerability, even if you feel your own sense of withdrawal at their sharpness. Holding back will confirm his story that people aren’t honest or safe with him. You can also try adding a gentle “why do you ask?” to encourage self-reflection on his part.

If your dad is an Observer, share activities with him. Sit next to him and read, or watch a movie. Occasionally, try a little touch: if you’re female, standing up, put a hand on his arm when you’re talking to him, or sitting down, lean your head against his shoulder if that’s a thing you did as a child. If you’re male, make sure to give him a back pat or a handshake with eye contact when you come and go. Experiment with what other small signs of safety feel right, and take it at his pace, not yours.

Awkwardness may turn to companionability over time. Then you can start asking object-oriented questions. What is he reading? What does he think about it, or about the movie you just watched? What’s been on his mind? 

 

They say, You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. When it comes to depth and vulnerability, some of our dads have been conditioned out of even seeing the water. They don’t know to look for it. They don’t know that it can bring relief instead of pain. 

Your dad is in the desert? Meet him there. Bring him dipperfuls of your own water, whether or not he spills it on the sand; let him know that honesty is there when he wants it. Walk with him in his own land, and see the things he looks at, no matter how brown and sandy they seem to you. 

Maybe you will never be able to show him the oasis you know. But, over time, your feet may wear a track deep enough that you’ll find water. Together. 

 

The Judgmental Family

“My family is very loving but not so much accepting (as they think). There is a lot of rules, all those shoulds and shouldn'ts, which I constantly try to break, by talking and educating, showing another perspective. But it's very deep in their subconscious....I think all those rules block me from being myself when I'm with my family, to being curious over judgmental. I think it's less the fear of judgment, but more tiredness of not being understood or heard. Well no, it's also very much the fear of judgment in some areas as well.” - M. J.

I’m sure many of us can understand this problem. Guilt and shame are two primary means of social control, and I know that my family, as M’s, wielded them like a double-handed weapon. You’ve got a different view? WHAM! That’s not just wrong, it’s MORALLY wrong. It’s harder to get out from underneath being a bad person than doing a bad thing.

Changing family culture is not easy. As far as I’ve found, the only way to change it - or any culture, for that matter - is with personal actions. Most people will not accept external change unless they’ve asked for it, or are in a crisis. If neither of these is true in your family, you’ll have to start with what you yourself can do. 

So, what can you do?

I’m going to look at this from the perspective of the Relating Languages, which I think can be helpful here. The role of showing another perspective is often that of a Challenger. As with any Language, when interacting, Challengers can have their focus of attention either more on themselves or more on the other person. We call the self-oriented Challenger the Debater, and the other-oriented, the Banterer. The scale between these is a spectrum, not a binary, so moving one way or another along that spectrum is possible in any conversation.

Although I know M to be a highly empathetic person, I imagine that this family situation is stressful for her. It might cause her to move from an external to an internal orientation. Instead of being able to take her family’s shoulds lightly - perhaps even joke with them about the rules, or switch to a Questioning language and ask why they hold the beliefs they do - she might be pushed into Debating as a form of self-protection. 

As a general rule, self-oriented languages are more cognitive, and other-oriented ones are more emotional. So, in moving more towards the Debater role, Marta’s mind gets involved. While her emotions and embodied sensation might be able to brush off her family’s disapproval, finding a way to play with it or simply seek understanding, her mind thinks about the situation. It tells her something is at risk. 

Perhaps the risk is being misunderstood, or losing love, or even a challenge to her identity. As I said at the beginning, judgment carries moral weight, and we all like to believe that we are good people - so much so that we might start judging ourselves, if our self-image doesn’t fit with what others seem to see. 

Whatever the cause, M is now in what feels like an unsafe situation, so she seeks to present her view as clearly as possible. If she can do this, her family will listen, right? They’ll change their minds?

Well...that only holds true if members of her family speak a Receptive language, either Questioning or Observing, and/or are willing to switch into that mode with her. Expressive languages value talking over listening, and much of the time, unless their speakers are highly other-oriented, they can be slow to change their minds. They can Storytell or Challenge their way out of most situations.

So what is M to do?

One option is for her to consciously keep her attention outwards, towards the Banterer side of Challenging, even if she gets triggered. She could focus on what is happening for her family in the moment, and choose to debate or joke with her attention more on having a good conversation than on defending a view. This is difficult to do when we feel threatened! But, perhaps having this frame will help her keep her center and move back into a more embodied state.

Another option is to get her family to switch languages. If M herself uses a Receptive language - starts asking questions, or staying quiet until she notices an interesting point of entry or an astute observation to make - she can actually induce her family to change their own speech. 

How does this work? More other-oriented conversationalists will often unconsciously match the language being used on them. When faced with a Receptive language, they may start to slow down a little and leave more space for the other. 

Self-oriented conversationalists may not do this, because they have less attention on the other person. A point of entry for them may be to find something they really care about - a value, a relationship, an identity - and either touch or threaten it.

For instance, if M’s relationship with her family is really at stake, she could let them know that their lack of openness to her views makes her not want to be around them. She could make it clear that she might not come home as often if they can’t get curious, even for a few minutes, about the things she cares about.

An external stimulus that triggers something we care about will often move our attention towards that stimulus, aka towards the other person. If you make someone aware that you are a self, with your own perspectives and views, which could affect something they care about, they will naturally start caring about what you think as well.

 

Popular Culture

Let’s look at a few examples of how the Relating Languages show up in popular culture…

Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

In this classic movie, we get to experience the dynamic between Ulysses Everett McGill (a Storytelling Chronicler who thinks he’s a Bard), Delmar (Observer), and Pete (Debating Challenger). 

The best example of their dynamic occurs towards the beginning of the movie, where the three have a brief dispute over who will be The Leader. Pete, in Challenger fashion, brings up the topic to Ulysses: “Who elected you leader of this outfit?” Ulysses respond, Chronicler-style: “Well, Pete, I thought the leader should be the one with the capacity for abstract thought, but if that doesn't seem to be the case, hell, we'll put it to a vote” - explaining himself in as many words as he can.

Delmar, the Observer, looks from one to the other, taking his time to answer. Finally he says, “I’m with you, boys.”

While obviously a dramatization, the dynamic between these characters plays out throughout the movie. Pete is the one who gets angriest when he and Delmar find out that Ulysses’ treasure, for which they escaped from jail and travelled countless miles, is a lie. Ulysses tries to explain it away, believing that the stories he spins can get him out of trouble. Delmar remains silent throughout the scene, witnessing. 

What would the movie have been like if Ulysses had been more of the Bard he thought he was, able to spin tales that anyone wanted to believe? Or, if Delmar had been able to banter, like the other-oriented Challenger, able to defuse situations instead of intensify them?

For Delmar, unfortunately, it doesn’t matter much if his focus is internal or external. There is little chance he can transcend the role of most scripted Observers. He is the token third, considered dumb because of his quietness, and quiet because he is dumb. Yet, throughout the movie, when the tension is highest, Delmar is always the one to say just the right words to bring the group back to center. As a side character tells him at one point, “Heh, you don't say much, friend, but when you do, it's to the point and I salute you for it!”

 

The Princess Bride

Who can forget the immortal story of Wesley and his beautiful princess, Buttercup? Or Buttercup and her beautiful prince, Wesley? One of the fun things about this story is the diversity of types in it. There are multiple villains, multiple heroes, each of them playing a unique part in their own languages.

For example, take the iconic rescue scene where Wesley, still unidentified, takes on the dastardly trio Inigo, Fezzik, and Vizzini the Sicilian. After helping Wesley to the top of a cliff, Inigo starts the scene by telling a dramatic Bardly story. “My father was slaughtered by a six fingered man,” he proclaims. “The next time we meet, I will not fail. I will go up to the six fingered man and say, “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."”

Wesley spurs the scene on first by acting in a receptive language, the Spaceholding Questioner, giving Inigo space to expound. “Do you always begin conversations this way?” he asks, after Inigo greets him by asking if he has six fingers on his right hand. And, later: “You've done nothing but study swordplay?” Oftentimes in films, when one person goes towards the Expressive end, the other goes towards Receptive to shorten the scene.

After Inigo’s story is out, Wesley goes back to his natural type, the Challenging Banterer. He and Inigo trade witty comments as they fight along the rocks. Inigo: “You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you.” Wesley: “You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.”

Wesley, of course, beats Inigo and heads to his next challenge. He is faced by the giant, Fezzik, the dumb Observer sidekick type that we see in many films. Despite using many fewer words than the Bard Inigo, and being in the middle of a battle, Fezzick makes a simple observation that nobody else has. “Why do you wear a mask? Were you burned by acid, or something like that?” Wesley, bantering, replies: “Oh no. It's just that they're terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.” Wesley quickly dispenses with Fezzik and moves on to…

...our last villain, Vizzini the Sicilian. Vizzini is a Storytelling Chronicler through and through. After setting up his challenge - for Wesley to decide which of two goblets contains poison, by drinking one of them - he slams his opponent with a wall of words about how he can tell which goblet is the safe one, because of psychology and philosophy and Australia and such. Not bothering either to question or to listen, he does not give Wesley a chance to reveal his own secret: that it doesn’t matter which goblet Wesley drinks, because he has spent the last few years building up an immunity to that particular poison. 

After Vizzini dies, Wesley turns his attention to Buttercup. She greets him cooly, thinking he is the Dread Pirate Roberts instead of her former love. To hold her position, she takes on the Challenging Debater tone. “You can die slowly cut into a thousand pieces,” she tells him. “You killed my love. On the high seas, your ship attacked, and the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners.” “I can't afford to make exceptions,” Wesley Banters back. “Once word leaks out that a pirate has gone soft, people begin to disobey you, and then it's nothing but work, work, work, all the time.” “You mock my pain!” Buttercup replies, not in a Bantering mood.

Had Buttercup taken the time to ask some questions, perhaps the two would have been saved some time and bruises. But, Challenging Debaters rarely change their view without new information hitting them over the head, and it takes Wesley uttering his signature line - “as you wish!” - before she realizes her mistake. 

I won’t go through the rest of the movie, but suffice to say, we meet many other characters whose Relating Languages are good foils for each other to play off of. Because it’s a comedy, there is a lot of Bantering; because each character has a backstory, there is plenty of Storytelling; and because there are men and politics involved, we get one or two good Debates. 

Finally, I’ll ask: who is the true hero in this story? Who do we come to root for and believe in? Although Wesley is the main character, his Bantering style makes him hard to get to know. As an other-oriented type, he doesn’t often give views into his own soul, so he’s easy to enjoy but not always to connect with. Buttercup, on the other hand - the poised and plucky Debater - we come to support, for she stands for love triumphant and boundaries respected. All the things we want to see in a happy ending.