Eva Snijders | Coach & Storyteller

Storifying my blog?

evasnijders — Wed, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

I just installed the Storify plugin and wanted to test it. Luckily, Gregg Morris was in for some fun. Thank you, Gregg!

Role Models. Michael Jackson. Why not?

evasnijders — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 20:18:07 +0000

The other day, this lady told me how glad she was that her adolescent son had Steve Jobs for a role model. So far, so good. Then she added, “I mean, imagine if he’d want to be like Michael Jackson!”. I didn’t reply. I guess I wasn’t on a mission that particular day. And I didn’t feel like telling her this:

Role models, like any other models, are abstractions of reality. As much as we admire a person, we admire certain capacities or attitudes. This admiration tells us who we could become, or who we long to become in our dreams. Like other models, they give us an opportunity to examine and learn. To find out how a machine works without the distractions of mechanical and technical details. Or to explore a way to be successful in our endeavors. Say, if I would want to become a better skier, I would benefit from observing professionals ski and imitate their movements. If I’d long to be successful in business, I could learn from case studies and the experience of other people who have been successful in business.
But, and this is important: I do not need (or want) to become that person. Or be like them in every single detail.

Now, I happen to admire both Steve Jobs and Michael Jackson. I would like to be as bold in business as Steve was and as brilliant a transformer as Michael was. But, and here’s the thing: I don’t mind turtle necks, but I would be very displeased with myself if I’d treated the people around me with the disdain Steve apparently displayed. And I would be ashamed of myself if I’d ever become as fussy as Michael appeared to be. (Let alone that I’m rather happy to be a female ;-).

Storytelling for Branding, the Red Bull Way

evasnijders — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 08:59:20 +0000

One of the questions I get asked more often (by Marketing and advertising pros, most of the time) is “Who, in your opinion, is using Storytelling to it’s full extent in their Marketing strategy?”
And although I know there are other brands doing cool stuff, I must admit I have a flaw for Red Bull. And this is why.

In my last year at school in Holland, I had made up my mind to spend (at least!) a year abroad before starting University. I had been skiing in Austria and thought that would be a good place to start. I got a job at a restaurant, working shifts. That was ok, but I was young and wanted to party, too. My Austrian friends introduced me to this local drink wrapped in blue and silver cans. They told me it had all sorts of secret ingredients that would allow me to go dancing in Italy on a Wednesday night and be up and ready to serve coffee n Austria on a Thursday morning. I won’t go into details here, but I can tell you that during the summer of 1992 Red Bull became an unmissable part of my breakfast routine. (I should add here that I never particularly liked the taste. It always reminded me of gummy bears somehow. And liquifying little animals seemed cruel, somehow. But it worked, it gave me wings. And I became a fan).

Nearly 20 years later, this local Austrian brand has conquered the world. Wikipedia will tell you they have done so “using an aggressive Marketing strategy”. Let’s say they’re right. But let’s see, what did and does their strategy really consist of? For almost two decades, their advertising campaigns were different versions of one idea: “Red Bull Gives you Wings”, and displayed the same cartoon style:

Red Bull – Confession

Today, they also use clips from the many extreme athletes they sponsor. A part from that, they have filled our cities with their blue and silver cars with huge size cans on top:

Plus, and here’s the thing: they have always been very active in sponsorship. Back in 1992, they mainly sponsored typically Austrian winter sports like snowboarding, whereas today, projects range from adventure sports and athletics, to aerial and motor sports. And, as I learned yesterday while watching Spanish national TV, they also have a true Music Academy.

What is my point here? Red Bull, before asking themselves “what story they should tell the world”, they have taken action. Today, they have many stories to share with the world, and all are based on the one thing they actually DO, which is helping people to live their lives fully (being it a waitress who loves dancing, an extreme snowboarder who wants to go for the most remote mountain, or a musician who dares to go beyond the known in music history).

Dietrich Mateschitz, Red Bull’s CEO, who one day, sitting at a bar in Asia, stated that “there was no market for energy drinks in Europe, but he would create one“, today, rules the world from his office in the tiny village of Fuschl am See. I still don’t like ground gummy bears, but I do admire coherent, transparent and action orientated people like Mr. Mateschitz. Therefore, I honestly think he is one of the few to use Storytelling to it’s full extent in their Marketing strategy.

He embodies the Screenwriter’s principle “Show, don’t tell”. Or, wrapping it up Snijders’ style: “First, act upon your values, then shape the stories you tell about what you do.”

Good luck, bad luck

evasnijders — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 18:06:43 +0000

This is one of those stories I would like to use more often.

Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a farmer with his family. This farmer had a horse that one day, ran away to the hills. So the farmer and his son had to plow their fields themselves.
Their neighbors watched them working hard and said “Oh, we pity you, what bad luck that your horse ran away!”
But the farmer replied “Good luck, bad luck, who knows?”

The next week, the horse returned to the farm, bringing a herd of wild horses with him.
“What wonderful luck!” cried the neighbors,
but the farmer responded “Good luck, bad luck, who knows?”

Then, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the wild horses. He was thrown off and broke his leg.
“Ah, such bad luck!” sympathized the neighbors.
Once again, the farmer responded “Good luck, bad luck, who knows?”

A short time after, the emperor recruited all young men to join his army for battle.
The son, with his broken leg, was left at home.
“What good luck that your son was not forced into the army!” celebrated the neighbors.
And the farmer remarked “Good luck, bad luck, who knows?”

If you prefer to listen to his story, Sean Buvala tells a great version on YouTube.
Good luck, bad luck?

Storytelling. Lo que es. (Un post enfadado y algo tristón)

evasnijders — Mon, 17 Oct 2011 19:07:21 +0000

Hoy estoy mosca. Y no es un buen sitio desde el que escribir un post. O tal vez si, lo veré cuando acabe.

Estoy enfadada por la cantidad de tonterías que leo alrededor de la palabra Storytelling. Molesta porque para mi, y para muchos profesionales como yo, es una disciplina que merece mucho respeto y así la tratamos. A cada paso que damos, honramos a los que estuvieron antes que nosotros, a nuestros clientes y nuestros compañeros. Lo hacemos sabiendo que somos herederos de una tradición muy antigua y muy importante para el ser humano. Más de lo que, por lo visto, es consciente.

Las historias dan forma a nuestra realidad. Son la manera que tiene el ser humano de explicarse lo inexplicable. Son el modo que tiene de estar en paz con la vida y la muerte, la salud y la enfermedad, Dios y el mundo. Las historias son vehículos de aprendizaje y de acercamiento. No importa que cambien los medios, ni las modas. Ellas se transforman todas las veces que haga falta para seguir enseñándonos.

Últimamente veo que se aplica el término Storytelling a chistes, anuncios, anécdotas, incluso Powerpoints. Y mi corazón se encoge. Tengo pesadillas, sueño con un mundo en el que las historias que nos contamos son tan pobres y estúpidas, tan planas y simplistas, que como especie ya sólo podremos caminar hacia atrás, como los cangrejos.

Y es que las historias dan forma a nuestra realidad. Si no estamos dispuestos a profundizar para entendernos. Si no queremos explorar para ser mejores. Si nos negamos la duda, lo desconocido y el misterio… Si, en definitiva, sólo estamos dispuestos a consumir contenido “fast food”, despojaremos a nuestra realidad de toda opción de crecimiento y transformación. Caminaremos por los mismos caminos asfaltados una y otra vez y nos preguntaremos porqué estamos tan mal y dónde está la salida.

Hasta el día que ya no habrá salida posible. Porque habremos olvidado crearla.

Dime qué te preguntas y te diré qué respuesta obtienes

evasnijders — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 11:48:27 +0000

El pasado martes, día 27, Montecarlo y yo dimos una charla en ADEG, Associació d’Empresaris del Garraf i el Penedès para promocionar nuestro libro El Consejo. Nos pidieron que habláramos de “Cómo usar el Storytelling para vender más”. Y queríamos hablar de ello, aunque nuestras mentes nos llevaron a otro sitio. ;-)

Montecarlo empezó la intervención con una reflexión sobre “La crisis como estado mental“, que había iniciado días antes en twitter.

El terminó hablando de un viejo dicho zen que dice:

la realidad es como un espejo: cada uno se asoma y ve en él una parte, según la posición y ángulo desde el que se encuentra. La realidad “es”, como el espejo. Nuestra mirada capta el reflejo, o sea, la interpretación de lo que ocurre según nuestro punto de vista.

Yo le tomé el relevo preguntándome lo siguiente:

Si es cierto que el espejo no cambia, ¿qué otro ángulo puedo adoptar yo para tener otra visión?

Me contesté a mi misma: las preguntas que nos hacemos sobre el mundo nos ubican ante el espejo.
O, como decimos en Coaching, tomando una máxima socrática:

La calidad de la respuesta depende de la calidad de la pregunta.

Entonces, me pregunto, ¿realmente queremos preguntarnos “cómo vender más”?

¿Qué pasaría si cambiásemos la pregunta?
¿Qué respuestas obtendríamos?
Podríamos preguntarnos:

Cada una de estas preguntas dirige nuestra mirada a una dirección distinta y nos lleva a respuestas diferentes. Nos coloca ante el espejo del mundo en otro ángulo, para seguir con la metáfora.

De la misma manera que diferentes preguntas dan diferentes respuestas, diferentes historias dan diferentes versiones del mundo y diferentes posibilidades de futuro.

Las historias que nos contamos respecto a la crisis (o a las crisis, en general) suelen ser muy pobres. “La cosa está fatal”, “no hay dinero”, “el gobierno lo hace del c***”… Si compartimos historias tan pobres, con tan pocos personajes y elementos, no veremos opciones de desarrollo. Podríamos preguntarnos “¿quién más hay ahí?” (¿realmente estamos solos ante el peligro?), ¿qué posibilidades no estamos viendo? ¿qué cambio nos resistimos a realizar?

Y para ilustrar la idea, compartí varias anécdotas. Aquí una de ellas:

Los vendedores de hielo
Finales del siglo XIX, se empiezan a comercializar las primeras cámaras frigoríficas. Dos vendedores de hielo se encuentran en un bar.
El primer vendedor se lamenta al segundo: “Con ese nuevo invento, se acaba nuestro negocio, ya no habrá sitio para un vendedor de hielo”.
El segundo le contesta: “¿Ah, pero tu vendes hielo? Yo siempre pensé que vendía una solución para mantener los alimentos más tiempo. De hecho, el lunes empezaré a vender también neveras”.

Empezando por hacerte nuevas preguntas, puedes construir una historia más rica en detalles, que te lleve hacia nuevas soluciones.

Los ciegos y el elefante

evasnijders — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 09:32:10 +0000

El pasado día 1 de junio en el marco de ExpoManagement e invitados por nuestro editor, dimos una conferencia Montecarlo, Ángel María y yo sobre el poder del Storytelling. Decidimos partir la intervención en 3 partes. Así que mientras Ángel María habló del pasado del Storytelling y Montecarlo reflexionó sobre su futuro, yo hablé del presente. Aunque en un primer instante pensé tratar el boom que experimenta nuestra disciplina en el mundo occidental, finalmente opté por contar un cuento que para mi es una gran metáfora del poder de la narrativa. También ilustra muy bien dónde estamos hoy y cómo podemos avanzar.

Éste es el cuento transcrito.

Los ciegos y el elefante

Había una vez una aldea poblada por completo de ciegos.

Un mensajero anunció a los lugareños que un príncipe que venía de lejos, atravesaba el país a lomos de un elefante.

“¿Qué es un elefante?” preguntaron los ciegos.

No había elefantes en estas tierras, y nunca habían oído hablar de ese animal.

El mensajero les explicó que era una bestia gigantesca, y extraordinaria en todos los sentidos.

Esto despertó la curiosidad de los ciegos y todos querían acercarse al elefante para hacerse una idea de cómo era.

Todos a la vez no podía ser. Por lo que se decidió enviar una delegación de tres personas, que el príncipe recibió amablemente.

Autorizó a los representantes del pueblo a palpar su elefante el tiempo que quisieran. Y así hicieron. Tocaron el animal, dieron las gracias al príncipe, y volvieron a casa.

A su llegada fueron rodeados y bombardeados con preguntas de los otros aldeanos.

“Es un animal que se asemeja a una alfombra rugosa golpeado por el viento en un tendedero”, dijo un ciego que había tocado la oreja.

“¡En absoluto!”, dijo uno que había palpado la trompa, “Es una especie de serpiente muy gorda, muy nervioso, con la cabeza peluda y húmedo.

El tercero, que había palpado la pierna, se indignó: “¡Qué va! Es una bestia enorme como un tronco grueso.

“¡Poneros de acuerdo!” Pidieron los aldeanos.

Lejos de pactar, los tres ciegos llegaron a las manos, cada uno creyendo que tenía la razón.

Los otros tomaron partido y la pelea se convirtió en brutal enfrentamiento.

Cuando se cansaron de dar y recibir golpes, un hombre sabio propuso a enviar otra delegación. Ésta sería más grande, y estaría compuesta por personas elegidas por su inteligencia. Y antes que nada pedirían al príncipe una descripción de su montura.

Porque los ciegos, recordando las palabras del vendedor ambulante, dudaron que se pueda viajar en alfombras, serpientes o árboles.

Les costó varios días ponerse de acuerdo sobre la composición de esta nueva embajada. Cuando por fin se decidieron, el príncipe se había marchado.

Decía que los seres humanos (“los grandes personas”, como diría El Principito) estamos muy enfrascados en discusiones sobre “alfombras, serpientes y troncos”. Nos han educado en un sistema competitivo donde tener la razón y ganar la batalla de un argumento son objetivos valiosos a conseguir.
Creo que para avanzar nos iría bien escuchar activamente lo que nos cuentan sobre “alfombras, serpientes y troncos” y hacer buenas preguntas para descubrir “el elefante” que los une a todos.
Las técnicas de Storytelling y la presencia de un Storyteller profesional ayudarán a encontrarlo.

¿Para qué contar historias?

evasnijders — Sun, 08 May 2011 21:20:53 +0000

La información, hoy, está a la vuelta de un click. Podemos tener acceso al instante a muchos datos. Dicen que vivimos en la era del conocimiento. Discrepamos: vivimos en la era de los datos inconexos. Conocer y entender tiene que ver con ligar los hechos y darles sentido. Así que cada vez más, necesitamos conectar las piezas y construir relaciones entre ellas. Hemos de hacerlo para comprender el mundo en el que vivimos.

Por otro lado, parece que cada día es más fácil relacionarse con otras personas. La redes sociales nos facilitan encontrar perfiles con intereses similares a los nuestros. Un simple cruce de etiquetas, una bio de 160 carácteres, cuatro citas y ¡voilà!: ya tenemos un potencial amigo a la vista. También las marcas han descubierto el gran potencial de la web 2.0 para encontrar a su público. Pero relacionarse es algo más que añadir a un avatar a la lista de contactos, followers o fans. Y es mucho más que ponerle un “I like” a un mensaje de estado o una foto.

El gran cambio que nos dan las plataformas tecnológicas está en el poder de diálogo que ofrecen. ¿Sabemos sacarle todo el jugo que se merece?

Porque la otra cara de la moneda es que vivimos en un mundo ruidoso, un entorno de mil impactos por segundo que ha mermado nuestro hábito de escuchar y de observar.

En este escenario, el Storytelling nos ofrece una oportunidad única de mirar la vida con calma y con la curiosidad de un niño. Nos da la posibilidad de reinventarnos a través de las múltiples explicaciones que le damos a la realidad que nos envuelve.

Fatima the Spinner and the Tent

evasnijders — Mon, 02 May 2011 18:52:14 +0000

Today I felt like sharing this story as a little thank you to all the candidates at DBM who have trusted me with their career projects over the past years. It is a story I cherish for it embodies how I feel about our professional lives. Contrary to popular belief, I think that only few people know what their mission in life is from a very young age. The vast majority of us will switch jobs several times and some, sometimes, like Fatima, will feel “life just doesn’t make sense” until they find out what it is they ought to be doing.

Here’s to you: Alejandro, Alfredo, Ana, Anna, Antonio, Bernice, Birte, Carolina, Carles, Carmen, Catherine, Charlène, Clara, Claudia, Cris, Cristina, Dani, Elisenda, Enric, Federico, Fiona, Frédéric, Glòria, Gloria, Héctor, Herminia, Javier, Joerg, Kathy, Katja, Leonor, Leyla, Maristela, Neus, Paco, Quim, Rocío, Rosa, Rosa, Sam, Sandra, Sarolta, Silvia, Susy, Sylvia, Vicent, Virginie.

Once upon a time, in a city in the Farthest West, there lived a girl called Fatima. She was the daughter of a prosperous spinner who had taught her all the secrets of his trade.

One day her father said to her: “I need you to come with me on a journey, for I have business in the islands of the Mediterranean. Perhaps you find some handsome and prosperous young man whom you could take as a husband.”

They set off and travelled from island to island, the father doing his business while Fatima dreamt of the prince that would be hers.
But one day, when they were on the way to Crete, a storm blew up, and the ship was wrecked. Fatima, only half-conscious, was cast up on the seashore near Alexandria. Her father had died in the accident, and she felt miserable. She could hardly remember her life back home, for she was exhausted from the experience of the shipwreck, and her exposure in the sea.

While she was wandering on the sands, a family of cloth-makers found her. Although they were poor, they took her into their humble home and taught her their craft.

Thus it was that Fatima made a second life for herself, and within a year or two she was happy and reconciled with her destiny.

But one day, when she was once again on the seashore for some reason, a band of slave-traders landed and carried her away, along with other captives. Although she bitterly lamented her fate, Fatima found no sympathy from the slavers, who took her to Istanbul to sell her as a slave. Her world had collapsed for the second time.

That day, there were few buyers at the market. One of them was a man who was looking for slaves to work in his wood yard, where he made masts for ships. When he saw the poor Fatima, he decided to buy her, thinking that in this way, at least, he might be able to give her a slightly better life than if she were bought by someone else.

He took Fatima to his home, intending to make her a serving maid for his wife. But when he arrived at the house, he found that he had been robbed and all his possessions where gone. He could no longer afford any workers. So he, his wife and Fatima were left alone to work at the heavy labour of making masts. Fatima, grateful to her employer for rescuing her, worked so hard and so well that he gave her freedom, and she became his trusted helper. Thus it was that she became comparatively happy in her third career.

One day her employer said to her: “Fatima, I want you to go to India, as my agent, with a cargo of ships’ masts, and be sure that you sell them at a profit.”

So Fatima set off, but when the ship was off the coast of China, a typhoon wrecked it, and she found herself once again cast up on the seashore of a strange land. Once again she wept bitterly, for she felt that nothing in her life was working according to her expectations. Whenever things seemed to be going well, something came and destroyed all her hopes. “Why is it”, she cried out, for the third time, “that whenever I try to do something it comes to grief? Why do so many unfortunate things happen to me?” But there was no answer.

So she picked herself up from the sand, and started to walk inland. Now it so happened that nobody in China had heard of Fatima, or knew anything about her troubles. But there was a legend that a certain stranger, a woman, would one day arrive, and that she would be able to make a tent for the Emperor. And, since there was as yet nobody in China who could make tents, everyone looked forward to his strange visit with the liveliest anticipation. In order to make sure that this foreigner, when she arrived, would not be missed, successive Emperors of China had followed the tradition of sending heralds, once a year, to all the towns and villages of the land, searching for any foreign woman to present at the palace.

When Fatima stumbled into a town near the Chinese seashore, one such herald happened to be there. He spoke to her through an interpreter, and explained that she would have to go and see the Emperor.

So Fatima was brought before the Great Emperor of China, who asked her: “Lady, can you make a tent?” “I think so,” Fatima responded.
She asked for rope but there was none available. So, remembering her time as a spinner, she collected flax and made ropes.

Then she asked for stout fabric, but the Chinese had none of the kind she needed. So, drawing on her experience with the weavers of Alexandria, she gathered thread and wove some sturdy tent cloth.

Then she asked for tent-poles, but there were none in China. So Fatima, remembering how she had been trained by the mast-maker of Istanbul, looked for appropriate wood and craftily cut the tent-poles she needed.

When these were ready, she racked her brains for the memory of all the tents she had seen in her travels. And so, a tent was made.
When this wonder was revealed to the Emperor of Chine, he was so impressed that he offered Fatima the fulfilment of any wish she cared to name. She chose to settle in China, where she married a handsome prince, and where she remained in happiness, surrounded by her children, until the end of her days.

Cuéntame el viaje, no me enseñes el catálogo de la agencia.

evasnijders — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 08:00:39 +0000

Storytelling para presentaciones

Hoy escribo como invitada en el blog de mi amigoGonzalo Álvarez El Arte de Presentar.