Charles Sue-Wah-Sing is an executive coach and a faculty member with the Co-Active Training Institute. (He’s also a DJ, a lover of BBQ, and a salsa dancer.) Read more about Charles on his website and more about his coaching journey below. Personally, this conversation deepened and expanded my thinking about diversity and coaching, and it is a pleasure to share it with you. Connect with Charles on his LinkedIn. — Steph
Tell us about yourself.
I’m Charles Sue-Wah-Sing, born and raised in Toronto, and coaching is my second career. My professional journey began as a graphic designer and then I became a consultant, mostly in technology and communications. I’ve been involved in numerous organizations, big and small, in Canada and the U.S., and had my own agency for a while. In my late 30s, early 40s, my career stalled. Technology paid well, I was good at it, but I didn’t love it—and I had to rethink what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. It was a period of exploration working with my own coach, with friends, enrolling in various programs and workshops, even having a therapist. But I loved the experience of having a coach and eventually I saw bridges between coaching and what I was already up to, including developing leadership.
This is a bit of a detour, but what was it about technology that you didn’t like?
I love designing but the business-side of technology isn’t the prettiest thing. Someone’s always collecting data on you to better the business—not your experience. We see this manifest in social media, various apps and whatnot, and in AI. There’s different perspectives when it comes to tech, but the idea that I can collect data, then manipulate and twist it to make you do or believe things—that’s not in alignment with my core values.
How did you find your first coach?
Friends introduced me to my first coach. I explored some ideas with them, which led to another conversation—and I’d never really considered these ideas, right? To have a thought partner challenge my stories of what success could look like, what a career could look like—even stories I told myself about being 40 with two kids, an ex-wife, having to pay bills, etc., but wishing I could pivot into a new career. It was pretty powerful to work with someone who had my back and who was helping me create the life I wanted.
What is your training and certification as a coach?
I’m certified through Co-Active Training Institute and I’m also CTI faculty. I’m a Professional Certified Coach (PCC) through the International Coaching Federation, and I’m trained in other modalities and tools as well. But the primary one I lean into is my CTI training.
How does your previous career as a graphic designer influence your work as a coach?
I used my design skills to think strategically as a consultant, and that was an asset to big banks in Canada and the U.S., as well as pharmaceutical, automotive, and communications companies. I got to experience all sorts of organizations in different stages of growth and innovation—it was access to industries that I otherwise would not have seen. That’s relevant because now I work with executives and leaders across different verticals and I have a sense of empathy for the challenges they face or what might be missing in their leadership. I know what the pressure is like, especially for emerging leaders.
I often think about the similarities between design thinking and coaching. Have you noticed similarities too?
When you bring that up, it totally resonates. Nice connection. As a designer, a user-experience engineer and strategist, we had to ask provocative questions. We had to get to the nitty-gritty of the motivations, the values, and the wants and needs of people who would use the products we were creating. I’m asking my clients similar questions today—what’s important to you? What do you need? What are you standing for?
Did you have an “a-ha” moment when you realized the power of the coaching model for yourself?
Just one? It’s the story I mentioned earlier. As I was looking to transition out of consulting, a lot of the focus was on my kids, not my career. I had a coach challenge me about my relationship with my family and the story I’d told myself about responsibility, which is one of my values and also a limitation. My “a-ha” moment came when I set the “responsibility” perspective aside. My family will always be a priority, but I had them locked in as my only priority.
What are you like as a coach?
I can be bold, I can be challenging, creative. I can also be empathetic and create space for clients dealing with big stuff. I can have a gentle energy and I can have a fierce one, too—I am not afraid to call my clients out: “Enough’s enough. Let’s get down to brass tacks here.” I remind them that they are paying for this time and the clock is ticking. And I’ve got a pace where I’m just like, ease. I’m chill. I compare it to music: There’s music that’s easy-going and you can listen to it all day long, and then there’s music that’s just gotta drive hard. But it has to be music that connects with the client—it’s not my music.
One of the things that has become very important to me is for my clients to feel connected with their personal identity—their culture, race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation. Yes, it’s becoming more important in our world overall, but there’s also a lot of insight and intelligence in how we see ourselves and how we want to be seen. And conversely, sometimes our stories about identity can be the thing that keeps us stuck.
When I launched Cento, I began relating to the identity of “publisher”—and while that’s a professional identity, I didn’t know how much it would matter to me until it did. It was both obvious and unattainable at once, if that makes sense.
Same thing for me at different stages of my career. Now I’m an avid reader—which I never thought of myself as a reader at all—and I love writing. But the thing is I don’t see myself as a writer. But again, that’s just another evolving experience I’m having as an artist. I don’t design anymore so my self-expression is coming out in the written word—which I never planned on, by the way. These kinds of surprises are starting to show up.
How important is it to have a coach who shares aspects of your personal identity?
From the client’s perspective, it can be very important or not important at all. But the importance will tell you what they wrestle with or what they need to work on, right? Many clients come to me because I’m a man of color and they feel a sense of connection; meanwhile we could have completely different lived experiences. But we both understand what it is to be people of color and I can listen for those limiting beliefs, blind spots, or biases that people of color struggle with. It’s a sensitivity that would be very hard to develop otherwise. For example, when a white-bodied person speaks of impostor syndrome, or a person of color speaks of it, it’s actually quite different, and I can empathize with that difference.
What do you wish everyone knew about coaching?
If you have a deep longing for something and you just can’t allow yourself to get it, coaching is a means to get it. If you have a longing for better relationships, or a better career, or better health, etc.—that’s where coaching is a powerhouse.
What is your vision or dream for the coaching industry?
One, that it is much more diverse than it is now. That the coaching industry learn to embrace not just other ethnicities and identities, but also the streams of thought, knowledge, experience, and wisdom that come with those identities. Not to say coaching is homogenous as a body of work—but it is not as diverse or inclusive as you might think. Me being a man of color, I’m probably not even one percent of the population of coaches in North America. I would love to see more men and women of color involved.
If you can’t see yourself in it, why would you even gravitate toward it.
Exactly.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.