I know...I know....it's football season, so this may be a sore subject for some. But I am not really talking about football today (I think I just lost some of my readers; sorry!).  During church this morning, our priest was talking about how we tend to forget, sometimes, that we are all on the same team. Yes, we may root for different sports teams, we may vote for different political parties, we may believe in different religions (or none at all), but ultimately, I believe we are all on the same team.  I hope it doesn't sound too Pollyanna of me, but I totally buy into the notion that I can love every single one of my family members and all of my dearest of friends, without reservation, even if we don't hold the exact same political, climate, vaccine, or immigration views.  Why? Because we are ultimately all on the same side. 
     Let me start with an example.  I came to a conclusion when the internet first became a big "thing" (I'm typically late to the party, so I won't say what year this was) that our Higher Power (God, Abba Father, Adonai, El-Shaddai, Allah, whatever you choose to call Him) was like the worldwide web, and our particular choice in religion was like the internet provider we chose to use. Our "internet provider/religion/spiritual path" has certain aspects that mesh most with our own beliefs and values.  But that doesn't take away anything from others who believe differently than we do.  We are all likely getting out to the worldwide web of our Higher Power in our own way, and we don't have to try to convince someone else to get there in our way.  Yes, I thought I was pretty evolved for coming up with that analogy, but you can poke holes in it all you want.  
     Today, Father Brian said something that really hit home with me.  He was talking about this notion of us being on the same team, and I was thinking, "Then why in the world do we so vehemently feel the need to convince others that they are wrong in their own beliefs?" He went on to give some great, concrete (okay, some are actually abstract) examples.  For example, we all want "freedom".  But how we get to our concept of freedom tends to differ, and therein lies the rub, right?  We feel like our "pathway" to freedom is the right way, and then we feel the need to convince other people of our "right-ness".  Let's just take one (of oh-so-many) example.  We all want the freedom to make decisions about our own bodies.  Some people interpret that as:  I have the freedom to not get vaccinated with the COVID vaccination. Other people (or maybe some of the same people) interpret that as:  I have the freedom to get an abortion if I was raped or for some other reason.  This, I believe, is where the "team mentality" ends and we start putting on our different colors, carrying different pom-poms, or waving different signs or big styrofoam fingers (some are naughty fingers, by the way).  But why can't we get back to center, where we all agreed we want freedom?  Instead of listening to each other, truly trying to understand each others' reasonings for why THEY believe the way they believe, we get primed and ready to argue our own point. But to what end?  Do we truly believe we are going to convince people to believe in OUR way?  God (or Allah or Yahweh or nature (as my sweet mother believed)) is the way, the truth, and the light.  So why do we have to disagree on how we get there?  And why (in my own humble opinion) does it have to become a government-regulated issue?  
     In another example, all of us love the earth on which we live----yea! We're all on the same team. But, wait! Start talking about how to save the earth, and all of a sudden, we put on our team's colors and get out our styrofoam fingers to wave in each others' faces.  "Climate change" either becomes our rallying cry or it becomes bad words...why? Again, I believe it's because we tried to make something NOT political into something political.  Can't we go back to agreeing that we all care about the earth?  Now go back to the beginning and let's figure out a way to fix it. 
     Yet another example? All of us want our schools to be safe places for students and staff to be, but try to get those who believe in gun control to agree with those who believe every school staff member should carry a weapon, and boom! out come the separate team colors again.  
     Finally, all of us can likely agree we want everyone in the world to be safe (Maslow said we have to have our basic needs like food, water, clothing, shelter, rest, etc. before we can ever get to the point that we are self-actualized), but bring up the subject of immigration, and we will likely all get on our soapboxes about illegal people entering our country or about the need to realize that illegal children might need to be protected, regardless of what their parents did or how they got here.   

     That's why I absolutely loved engaging in the series our church in Tucson did, called, "For God's Sake, Listen!", in which we were tasked to listen to each other in small groups without interruption or even without reaction to each others' views but, instead, we each got one minute to simply state what we believed.  It was only after each person in the group had shared their thoughts did we engage in civil discussion about the topic at hand. And, even then, we were tasked to not try to convince someone else that they were wrong but to simply discuss the issue, maybe even bringing up the notion of, "I hadn't thought about that until Barbara brought that up."  

     I am a huge fan of the author, Jodi Picoult.  Her novels are typically based on some ethical dilemma.  No matter where you stand on the topic of abortion, reading her book, "A Spark of Light" might encourage you to think outside your own bubble.  I have VERY strong views on that subject, but after reading her book, I totally am able to see all sides (I think there are many more than two sides, by the way) of the topic.  

     I pray deeply for a world in which we can truly be on the same team, and we can agree that we might often disagree, but we can still love and listen to one another.

Happy Communicating,

​Shelly

     A dear friend of mine called last night.  We haven't talked in nearly two years.  She told me how much I had helped her in the past and that she was ashamed that she hadn't called to thank me. She said her dad had even told her to call me, but she kept putting it off.  The more she put it off, the more she felt guilty about not calling, the more she felt ashamed to call.  Boy, could I totally relate.  We laughed and shed a couple of tears and were both so grateful to be able to talk openly and honestly.  
     Today's sermon was about how often we don't ask questions for fear of looking ridiculous.  I could relate to that, as well.  I always tell my graduate students to ask for clarification from the feedback I give them on their papers, but I had one student who told me in the 6th week of the 6-week course that she had just realized how to open her paper back up to view my comments (to her credit, we have a new system that makes you have to download the paper before you can read the comments on the Word document).  She said she spent hours going back and reading all the comments on all the papers she had written throughout the semester.  She finally felt comfortable enough to tell me that she could not figure out what I had meant every week when I said, "Be sure to read the specific comments I've written on your paper, and let me know if you have any questions for next week."  Why?  She was afraid to look dumb in asking the question.  
     I was teaching a group of high-school teachers about the need to build rapport before we can build rigor (the new "catch-phrase" seems to be "We need to Maslow before we can Bloom", but I have a tiny problem with turning these famous thinkers' names into verbs, so I'll stick with my own "Build Rapport Before Rigor").  I had given some directions to the teachers about writing a quote that exemplified the need to build relationships with students.  I told them they had about a minute or so of individual work time then we would talk about what they had come up with; one teacher (out of the literally 100 teachers in the room) raised his hand and asked, "Can you just say again what you are asking us to do?"  In the middle of 100 people, that teacher was not afraid to say, "I don't get it. I need you to give that direction a different way".  I complimented him, making the connection that I believe that is just what we need to do with all of our students (whether they are five years old or 75 years old):  create an environment in which asking questions of the instructor or of each other is not only permitted but encouraged.  
     For what reasons do I not ask questions?  It typically has everything to do with my own insecurities about looking dumb.  I want you to think that I know what I am doing, when in reality, I sometimes don't have a clue.  What gets in the way of asking for help or answers?  Typically, it is my pride, my own fear, or my own control issues.  I want to appear to be on top of things...and yet...I am the one who tells my graduate students, my doctoral students, and all the participants in workshops I teach, "Vulnerability does not equate to weakness".  In fact, in my experience, when I share my own vulnerabilities, it paves the way to others feeling more comfortable in sharing theirs.  And when I share that I may not have all the answers, it allows people to be a little less harsh, I think.  Just as I opened my website to write this blog, I saw a note from a former participant in a workshop I taught earlier this month. He wrote an apology for talking about something "off-topic" when I visited his break-out room during a training.  He went on to explain the reason he was talking about his frustration, but he came back to the apology.  He thanked me for the resources I had provided and for what he felt was a really great workshop.  I couldn't help but see the irony of the timing.  As I am preparing to write a blog on what fear holds me back from doing, I was faced with someone who shared their vulnerability and apology.  Lest any of us forget, we are only human, and we are apt to make several mistakes along this journey of life.  I am eternally grateful I don't have to be perfect, that I don't HAVE to take myself so dang seriously, and that I can, indeed, laugh at myself when I say something ridiculous in the middle of a workshop filled with 100 people.  
    What is fear keeping you from doing today?  I hope the answer is "nothing", but if you are anything like me, there is likely something, and I pray that you realize in what good company you are if you make a mistake. 
     Happy Communicating!!
​

Shelly

Dave calls it the "yabbits".  You know, when someone says something you don't agree with, and you come back with "Yeah, but..." and then proceed to state your case.  Or, could that just be me?  I think not.  In fact, I know not.  A couple of years ago, I talked in one of my blogs about the initiative our priest was trying at our Episcopal church, called "For God's Sake, Listen!" The premise was that we would gather together in groups of 5 or so people and read a bit of information about a topic (we started out with something mundane like types of coffee, something about which I had no care, to be quite honest).  Then we would proceed to talk about the topic, stating our views about it.  The caveat was each person had one minute, uninterrupted, to share their thoughts.  The next person (we just went around the circle) would not reply to the previous comments but would instead just simply state their own opinion.  After everyone had their "minute" to share, we would then start the discussion.  There were some interesting things I noticed about this protocol:

• Some people simply didn't have an opinion and, in absence of the ability to "argue" for the sake of arguing, had nothing to say
• Some people had very strong opinions but "ran out of steam" well before their minute was up
• Some people nodded while listening, while others started to shake their heads, non-verbally already disagreeing with the speaker

The running out of steam phenomenon really captured my attention. I had to really consider what created this reaction.  After pondering and talking about it with Rev. Debra, I think I came  to a conclusion:  without someone to spar with, people often lost their desire to prattle on incessantly.  In other words, some people may need some fodder with which to simply argue instead of simply stating what they actually believe.  Doesn't this reek a bit of wanting to BE right instead of simply having a conversation?  
Dave and I have now been married for over 29 years. I have said before that we hold many different views about many different topics, some political, some not.  Politically, we have often "canceled out" the other person's vote, joking that it made no sense to even go vote. But of course it does make sense, as it is our right and  civic duty to cast our vote for what we believe, right?  
What is not right, in my humble opinion, is to call each other names for what another person believes.  This bugs me on so many levels, most of which stem from my belief that life would be pretty darn boring if we all agreed with each other.  I think of Stepford Wives, in which the characters simply do what is expected of them despite their opinions that must stay hidden for some unknown reason.  One thing Dave and I have learned to do is to try to avoid the "Yabbits" or responding against the other person's thoughts before we give the other person a chance to simply state what they believe and why they believe it.  In the past few years, we have somehow adopted the practice of saying "You might be right about that" even if we don't agree, because as we all know, nobody has ALL the facts on most subjects, and much of what we see and hear in the news or social media is subject to interpretation....thus forming our opinions.  We also always try to listen to the other person without interrupting their train of thought.  When we do that, it seems that the volume of our conversation doesn't rise to a very high decibel level, as there is no need to raise your voice if the other person is not arguing with you or saying, "Yeah, but...".  
I've been listening to Matthew McConaughey's Greenlights (2020) the last few weeks when I run.  I love hearing him tell stories about growing up in Texas, but the thing that has most recently struck me as important is his story that he tells about being with two African tribesmen in a "nightclub" of sorts.  He describes how a lady of the evening strolls through the establishment, and one of the men says something about her doing something wrong and immoral.  The other man listens then says he believes she has a right to do whatever she wants.  McConaughey describes how he thought about what both had said then weighed in, agreeing that what the first man said was "right".  The man with whom he had agreed immediately turns on him, saying, "It is not about who is right! It is about 'do you understand?'" What a concept!  Imagine if all the people who post provocative statements on Facebook (seemingly trying to prove their "right-ness") simply had conversations with others in an effort to understand others' views and to have their own understood?  Stephen Covey (2004) thought this concept was important enough to make it one of the seven habits that would make people "highly effective".  The habit is named "Seek first to understand, then to be understood."  In other words, what is most important is not that we are understood but that we understand the points of view of others before imposing our own or bashing others' views.  I have often quipped, "Do we want to BE right or do we want to make it alright?" I jokingly say my former answer would have been, "Can't I have it both ways?" But after further contemplation (and maybe a bit of wisdom with age and experience), I've realized that no matter how right I am in my "rightness", I'm not likely to change someone's opinion, especially if I steamroll over them with my own opinion.  What is more important, however, to keeping solid relationships, I believe, is the ability to understand that people are going to have their own beliefs and opinions, and I can choose to accept those as the thoughts of that person or I can bang my head against a wall trying to get them to believe the same way I do (which is likely never going to happen).  Since when has someone who is name-calling, gnashing their teeth, using foul language and overall acting like a toddler having a tantrum ever made you say, "You know what?  You must be right about that. I am changing my opinion on that topic since you seem to be so passionate about it" ?  Ummm....I'm guessing the answer is a resounding "NEVER".  Instead, what if we listen to another state their opinion for a full minute without interruption (you'll be surprised to see how long that feels to the speaker, by the way), then take our own minute to state our own view without arguing against the other person's view?  That is my challenge to each of you --- and to myself as well--- for the next few weeks.  Ready to take the plunge, or should we argue about it?  

Happy Communicating!

Shelly
Covey, S. R. (2004). The 7 habits of highly effective people: Restoring the character ethic ([Rev. ed.].). Free Press.
McConaughey, M. (2020). Greenlights.