By Daniel Lincoln Cress
Budget cuts.
“Rightsizing.”
DEI under attack.
A brave, new world or a brave, new norm?
It sounds all too familiar. At least it does in university environments. And this is it, this is the world in which we now live. We are scrubbing websites of the word “belonging.” Affinity Groups are now the entirely corporate-sounding Employee Resource Groups. And we keep our inclusive curriculum and programs out of any political spotlight as best we can
What remains, however, is the expectation that employees will continue to be productive and to achieve higher goals than the year before, if only to make up for overarching financial losses. And we are expected to all get along with one another while doing so, pushing aside valid fear and anxiety.
My apologies. Let me lighten the mood with a joke: An introvert walks alone into a bar…
That’s it. That’s the joke. (An introvert would never walk into a bar alone.)
And yet, this introvert did just that.
In February of 2025 my friend Cindy contacted me. She had attended a workshop hosted by Yale University’s Office of Employee Engagement and Workplace Culture a few months prior. The session, called Trialogue, aka Diversity Icebreaker, was facilitated by a friend and colleague of mine, Bjørn Z. Ekelund, founder of the Norwegian firm Human Factors AS.
Cindy works in IT within Yale’s vast library system. She asked if Bjørn could replicate the workshop for her team of 30 project managers.
I said, “Sure.”
She said, “Great.”
I said, “What’s your budget?”
She said, “Errrm…”
Womp, womp.
This should have been a loss for Cindy’s team and, frankly, for Yale. It should have been a loss for me. But, as I mentioned, Cindy is a friend. Together, in 2016, we launched Yale’s first-ever employee resource group for people with disabilities—on a voluntary basis, not part of our jobs. And we have a bit of a communication shorthand and inherent trust in one another.
So, Cindy persisted. “I was just thinking…” she said. “I was thinking maybe you could facilitate the workshop yourself.”
After some discussion—and with trepidation—this introvert agreed.
Trialogue is a teambuilding tool for professionals with a focus on communication preferences. It has been used in more than 80 countries worldwide and has reached more than 500,000 participants. There are 3,000+ trained facilitators—of which I was not one.
So, how was I going to do this? How was I going to train people in communication? I am not good at communicating. In front of people. People I don’t even know. Fear. Anxiety.
Why Use Trialogue?
In theater, we often say to trust the process. The art will flow. So… here goes:
The Trialogue workshop incorporates a real-time, digital survey that measures preferences for communication, interaction, and problem-solving styles. These preferences, categorized as Red, Blue, and Green, are neutral—some are not better than others. Most of us have all three but possess one that is stronger. After completing a 10-minute questionnaire, participants engage in group activities designed to develop a common understanding of how to best use Trialogue within their group.
The process itself creates a non-judgmental atmosphere through personal sharing and humorous, interpersonal interactions. I think of it as laying the foundation of deeper-level conversations about work projects, cross-departmental collaborations, and even workplace culture
The group activities comprise the bulk of the workshop and are divided into two parts. This is where the fun begins. In the first, participants work together in teams with others who share their lead color preference. Very generally,
- Red = empathic, human-centered
- Blue = logical, orderly
- Green = big ideas, innovators
Teams ask themselves—and write down on big (i.e., very visible) charts—how they would describe characteristics of their own color—and then those of the other two colors.
And then the real fun: In the second part, teams are asked to share their learnings, their thoughts, their ideas, to other groups. It is, of course, notable that teams did not know they would be sharing their ideas with other groups when they created their lists.
I have seen this workshop done in various forms about six times, ranging from 60 minutes to a couple of hours, in both English and Norwegian. I have seen it done across different industries, among all hierarchical levels. Universally, this is the moment in the session that elucidates the most joy. Out-loud laughter. And with laughter, with humor, learning is reinforced. Communication is underscored. And the real work of teams can begin.
What I knew from my experience as an observer and as occasional participant in Trialogue is that it always works. And it might even work with me, a novice facilitator and self-proclaimed introvert.
Putting Trialogue to the Test
Back to Cindy and her team of 30 IT managers. Obviously, I agreed to help her. Together we would facilitate the workshop. And as we delved into our planning, I realized with some trepidation that Cindy is squarely Green. A dreamer, lots of ideas she can’t possibly achieve.
I, conversely, am profoundly and proudly Blue. I like me some math, love a timeline, and cannot get enough of clear, solid deadlines. Order is my Best Friend.
So, how am I supposed to work with someone like Cindy, who cannot possibly get everything done? Trust the process.
The key element of Trialogue in reference to organizational teamwork is that individuals understand their own communication preferences and, critically, they are aware of those of others within or across teams.
This “enlightenment” is part of the process. And Cindy and I were already there. We both knew I am Blue and we were both hyper-aware of just how Green she can be (I say without judgment). So, effectively, we knew how to communicate with each other to build this workshop that is based on communication—because we had to do it to do it.
Fast forward to the day of the workshop. We were well prepared. Slide deck all ready. Red, Blue, and Green markers and oversized flip charts in three areas across the room. Thirty IT managers eager to learn what the heck this was all about. Cindy’s big ideas reined in by me. My involuntary clock-watching tempered by Cindy’s not-so-involuntary side eye. Boom, boom, boom—let’s go!
The First Hurdle
Cindy’s American Sign Language interpreter was nowhere to be seen. (Did I mention that Cindy is Deaf?)
Now what?
Reconfiguring the room. Positioning the audience and myself such that we always faced Cindy so she could read our lips. Positioning Cindy so she could always see the big screen with our presentation. Laughing. Throwing our hands up. Working together. Working through it.
And it worked. Because Trialogue works. Our workshop on communication had this extra layer of communication—first, doing it with an interpreter for Cindy—and then having to do it without because that person did not show up.
This article began by stating a (very) few manifestations of tough times in the context of organizational culture in the current U.S.
Did Cindy and I address these issues within the framework of our workshop? Not especially.
Does Trialogue as a professional development tool solve all of these problems? Not at all.
But what Cindy and I did, what Trialogue can do, is create a neutral space for free-flowing communication. And with such an established baseline of communication within organizations, the real work to address major external and internal concerns can start. Here is the take-home message. Don’t be a chicken like I wanted to be. If you need something to build teamwork, and you need it now, perhaps now more than ever, Trialogue can be your best friend (next to Order, of course). And if I can do it, anyone can.
Author’s note: This article is written from my personal perspective and not as a representative of Yale University.
Image credit: AndreyPopov
