Thursday, January 30, 2014

How Big is Your "We"?


We as a word opens our mouths, maybe even with smiles.  It’s an expression of welcome, of ease, of receptivity…. It’s a word that gathers in an identity while it also asserts one…
They as a word involves figuratively sticking out our tongue. It’s a word of expulsion… It draws a boundary, a perimeter, a distinction, a separation, a distance.  They” is a kind of anti-identity, and anti-definition of I or we.”

-Mark Labberton, The Dangerous Act of Loving Your Neighbor

Well friends, the saga of the animal drama is not over.  The competitive cats I wrote about last month are now melded into we.  It took the presence of “they” to overcome the internal drama.  They came in the form of an energetic fur ball with teeth and a genetic disposition to chase – a six-week old puppy.  The day Archie moved in the feeding ritual changed dramatically.  The cats didn’t meet me at the back door or race each other.  In fact their paws hardly touched earth.  I went into the barn and found all three huddled together on the highest point possible.  What a change occurred in the presence of a common enemy!

I am delighted that my feline friends made peace with each other.  I am disappointed though, that the incentive for this peace was another war. 

As Mark Labberton articulates in the quotes above, the word They draws a solid line between people.  The word signifies that we are in, as much as that they are out.  Such language not only divides, it also dehumanizes and it devalues. We can quickly justify violence done to them.  Ironically, even as such language divides it also strengthens the bond between us and draws us together. 

There’s got to be better ways to build community than creating a common enemy though!  After all which of the communities symbolized below is stronger?


The question then becomes; how encompassing is our definition of community? Or according to Sue Monk Kidd in The Dance of the Dissident Daughter:
 “…‘The question is: How big is your ‘we’?’ Who knows, our future on this planet may hang on how we come to answer that question.”

This topic even made it into the National Geographic this month.  Laura Spinney wrote an article titled “Karma of the Crowd” which analyzes the benefit experienced by the people in crowds along the Ganges during the Kumbh Mela, a Hindu festival.  She writes,
“The psychologists think the cornerstone of the effect is shared identity. ‘You think in terms of we rather than I’ … and that in turn alters your relationship to other people… Support is given and received, competition turns to cooperation, and people are able to realize their goals in a way they wouldn’t be able to alone.  That elicits positive emotions that make them not only more resilient to hardship but also healthier.”

I encourage you to listen for the words we, they, us, and them. To whom do you apply this language? In consequence, how do you behave toward them?

Who are you trying to protect and draw closer by drawing such defining lines with language?  Are there other ways to strengthen those relationships?

I invite you to join me as this year I hope to expand my “we.





Saturday, December 28, 2013

Are You Racing?


Picture this vignette from my daily chore routine:  My three cats meet me at the back door, eager for their evening meal.  Essie Lou, opinionated and who-knows-how-old, barely has time to say hello before pacing toward the barn.  Fred and Gabby, seven-month old kittens, playfully run behind.  When the barn door comes into Essie’s view she glances back to see the kittens in hot pursuit, flattens her ears, and breaks into a dignified jog.  As Gabby closes in, Essie drops all pretenses and starts a frantic run. You see Essie Lou is racing.  Despite the fact that I always feed Essie first, whether she purrs or growls over her generous portion is directly related to her place in the line-up sliding through the barn door. Gabby seems to be racing too and when she “wins” she waits her turn for food with a satisfied air. Then comes Freddy who, regardless of whether he’s first or last, never “wins” for a rather wonderful reason: he isn’t racing.     

This daily drama showed me that we choose whether to compete and that got me thinking: When does competition add value and when does it distract us? 

I often define competition as one of five methods for dealing with conflict (or sometimes we call it “force”). Competition during conflict means that we race to see who can force the other into doing what we want.  Then, the strongest, most articulate, most persuasive… wins, and the rest lose. Even though this method is fast it can escalate conflict, decrease our ability to see other options, and break relationships. It seems more worth the risk when someone’s safety is at stake.

As I thought about competition I remembered some of my own experiences:
Competition seemed to be a distraction for two businessmen in mediation who let less than one hundred dollars block them from agreement.  Yet, it adds the sparkle of fun when I gather with family or friends around the table with games, food, laughter, and our scores scrawled on a paper scrap. Competition even added incentive for me in academics as I worked to keep up with my three talented siblings.

How can we benefit from competition without experiencing the ugly outcomes? 

After some thought, I’m trying this:

Choose to compete when it:

·      Adds fun
·      Builds relationships
·      Enhances creative effort

      Choose other ways of relating when:

·      Anyone stops having fun
·      Winning or being right seems more important than the people around you
·      You feel like punishing those who “win” when you don’t (this includes the "silent treatment"!) 

When do you think competition is appropriate? 



Friday, November 22, 2013

A Recipe for Relational Disaster


Thanksgiving is just around the corner. It's a time of year when there are probably more people than usual in a small space; all of whom you care deeply about. It's also a time of year to look for recipes large enough to include plenty of family and friends.  With that in mind, here’s a recipe for you:

Relational Disaster:

-       2 tablespoons problem, issue, or difference over deeply held values (depending on flavor preference)
-       22 heaping cups of evaluation (“You’re Such A…” or “You’re So…”)
-       17 generous dashes of interruption (“Yes, But…” recommended)
-       ¼ cup starter from last year’s disagreements
-       2 lbs. “facts”
-       1 ½ cup comparisons
-       7 teaspoons condescension – both verbal and nonverbal
-       a quart and a half each of “you always” and “you never”
-       1 ½ cup insincere praise

Instructions:

Pre-heat the oven to 400 degrees F (fatigue). Begin with the issue, problem, or deeply held value.  Add, “You’re Such A…” or “You’re So…” brand of evaluations combined with Broad Generalizations and Name Calling for leavening.  By this time it should be very clear that the problem is exclusively the other person.  Beginning every sentence with “you” will help if the mixture falls flat. Reserve some evaluation for later use.  

Bring out the issues from last year’s disagreements – this starter will enhance the heat and growth of the situation.  Refuse to see any other perspective, but liberally add “facts” that bolster your own opinion.   Fold in “Yes, But” interruptions until the tension is thick enough to stir.  Heat in a crowded place with uncomfortable furniture, many people listening and taking sides, and minimal sunshine. 

Sprinkle the table with half of the reserved evaluation, combine comparisons with insincere praise, and knead into the heated mixture using the “attack” method.  Unevenly separate the concoction into “us and them” portions.  Ignore “them” unless you’re adding the spices of condescension, “always,” “never,” and the remaining evaluations.  Take this brew to another friend and complain freely about the problematic person.  Continue until “they” no longer seem like a person to you.  Leaving this dough to rest has detrimental effect on its growth.  Bake until hardened.

Of course, it nearly goes without saying, the topping is a mixture of broken relationship and shattered trust.

Warning: The explosive nature of this recipe results in the addition of this recipe into every other aspect of life.  Antidotes include: listening, thoughtful articulation, respect, and empathy.  Use with caution.



I write this blog for Common Ground Conciliation Service. Check out the website at: http://www.commongroundcs.org/