| Toronto Star Article August 4, 1999 CORPORATIONS SEEK INSPIRATION FROM THE PRIMAL RHYTHM OF THE DRUM CIRCLE |
| Take hold of the drum, join the circle, listen to the pulse and bang
away. Welcome to the new corporate world. The drum is one of the newest
instruments being used to promote communication and teamwork in the
workplace. Yet there's no tool that awakens a more primal instinct.
Brining the philosophies of African drumming to the jungles of the
business world is the idea of Toronto-born Doug Sole, 35. Companies such as IBM Canada Ltd. , Scotia Bank, Xerox Canada Ltd., have invited him to lead employees through two-hour drum sessions to improve communication skills. On the doorstep of the 21st century, big business, in its quest for higher productivity, is turning to a technology almost as primitive as a caveman beating on his chest. More than 100 casually dressed business people, most first-time drummers, pour into the auditorium at Georgian College's Kempenfelt Conference Centre, just outside of Barrie. With drums of all types---Latin American congas, African doumbeks and Brazilian surdos lining the room, they anxiously take their seats. Sole, drum aficionado, author and co-owner of Toronto's Soul Drums, takes his place at the centre of the drum circle. Unlike the business professionals who surround him, he arrives in a wildly patterned shirt, dressing the part. Don't touch the drums, we're told. Everybody is eager, edgy. We ask
ourselves: What if I make a fool of myself? What if I fail? "People come
in the room and see all these instruments and think: What's this got to
do with our company? Or, I don't have rhythm: I'm not going to sit down
and do this," Sole tells the group. That's fear and ego standing in the
way, he says, and it hurts the performance of a drum circle the way it
would hurt any corporation. He encountered little resistance at the
Kempenfelt Centre last week, where he helped kick off a four-day retreat
held by members of the Secretan Centre's Higher Ground Community, in
Alton, south of Orangeville. It's a movement of educators, lawyers and
executives who seek to awaken the spirit at work. Founder Lance Secretan,
59, the author of nine books, says he has dedicated his life to
corporate healing. Having discovered Sole's work last year, Secretan has
been eager to integrate drumming into his retreat, which also includes
song, dance and meditation. "Most people will go home and forget 80 per
cent of the things that have happened here, but they won't forget the
drumming," says Secretan, who lectures to 200,000 people each year. Sue
Anderson, director of internal communication at Xerox Canada, has
organized two such sessions with Sole. "Doing something like this in a
large corporate environment is a risk," she says. "you don't know how
anybody in that room is going to react. "But for us it's about getting
into an new kind of rhythm, a rhythm that allows you to reach new kinds
of heights". Sole, who studied music at Humber College, is a lifelong drummer. He
warns that, by the end of the night, we won't be able to stop. But
first, it's time to warm up. We're instructed to pick up a drum stick
and "boomwacker" – a resonant hollow tube. Sole strikes a beat and asks
the group to imitate it. We do so. He strikes another and another. So
far, so good. Next, participants are divided into eight groups, each
playing a different beat. When all the beats are combined, we suddenly
find ourselves working in harmony to create a stirring symphony of
sound. This shows that "everybody's job and everybody's is important in
corporations, but sometimes corporations don't think that way," Sole
explains. Now that we've learned the language, we're ready for the
drums, Sole says. I pull the 25-centimetre djembe drum gently toward me,
cradle it against my chest and tighten the straps around my back. I
can't hold off much longer. "There's more than 100 of us in this room,"
Sole warns. "If we all start banging our own thing, it's going to be
chaos." The same goes for companies, he says. He randomly points to
drummers around the room, singling them out to play a beat for everyone
to imitate. Sometimes we're successful, sometimes not.Finally, Sole points to a woman who has the deepest drum. She begins simply: boom. Boom. Boom. Another person joins, then another. A few more join, but then the rhythm falls apart, the hypnotic beat replaced by cacophony. "We're having a communication problem here," Sole interrupts. "you've got to listen to one another through the pulse of the business. Don't just play what the pulse is. You have to play your job description, but be creative around it." We begin again. One by one, drummers add to the pulse. We listen carefully, imitate, improvise, and allow our creativity to flow. Sole leads us outside into the night. Standing on the grass, we continue to drum, the crescent moon barely illuminating the waters of Kempenfelt Bay. Nothing can wipe our smiles away as we push the limits of our new-found talent. Beating with ever-increasing energy, we have drawn toward the heart of the circle, closer together. A grinning Secretan steps beside me and, over the booming percussion, says "It's just another day in corporate North America." By Andy Georgiades – Staff Reporter for the Toronto Star |