Living with the Chaos of the Unpredictable

September 30, 2018

On my daughter’s first Christmas, my mother (her grandmother) gave her Chris Van Allsburg’s beloved classic book The Polar Express. The book is the story of a young boy who is lying awake on Christmas Eve hoping to hear something a friend had told him he’d never hear – the ringing bells on Santa’s sleigh. That night, he gets to take a magical train ride on the Polar Express to the North Pole. Once there, the young boy is chosen among hundreds of children by Santa to receive the “first gift of Christmas” – a silver bell from Santa’s sleigh. On Christmas morning, the boy shakes the bell, and it makes the most beautiful sound the young boy and his sister had ever heard. But neither of his parents could hear the bell.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” his mother said. “Yes,” said his father, “it’s broken.”

Although most of the young boy’s friends and sister could hear the bell in the beginning, the bell fell silent for all them as the years passed. The story ends as the boy says, “Though, I’ve grown old, the bell still rings for me as it does for all who truly believe.”

I always thought that would be me.

For the most part, I’ve had a privileged life, so it was relatively easy for me to live in my “Pollyanna world” (my sister’s term). I’ve had strong healthy relationships with my family and friends, access to quality education, and a financially stable and satisfying career. I suffered from no adverse childhood experiences before my 18th birthday, which can be a predictor of a wide range of emotional and physical health problems. Although I have “worked my butt off” for most of my life, I realize that none of my success is the result of my efforts alone; it is the result of being in a supportive environment surrounded by a group of people who have significantly contributed to my ability to be successful. Individuals who have benefited from the same privilege (and more) need to be reminded of this.

I am also a white, heterosexual Christian female who spent the first 18 years of my life surrounded by people who looked like me and professed to believe like me. I thought my reality was everyone else’s reality.

As is usually the case, it wasn’t until I was exposed to persons of different cultures, races/ethnicities, religions, and sexual orientation, as well as additional education, and opportunities to travel internationally, that I realized that “different” wasn’t bad or “sinful.”

There’s a poster that hangs in my best friend’s church that reads:

The world in which you were born

Is just one model of reality.

Other cultures are not failed attempts at

being you; they are unique manifestations

of the human spirit.

Wade Davis

Although I watched in disgust as the narrative in the U.S. seemed to be slipping more and more into mean-spirited tribalism, I hung on to the belief that what “unites us is greater than what divides us.” I listened to Christian friends make derogatory remarks about individuals of different religions, races, and sexual orientation, yet I refused to dwell on these comments and continued to believe that these people were “good,” albeit misguided.

To be truthful, it has gotten harder and harder to believe this. For much of 2017, I found myself sliding into believing that my faith about the inherent goodness of people had been an illusion. But even on the worst days when I witnessed horrific behavior, there was always someone or something that reaffirmed my belief in humanity. Last week was no exception.

Like many of my friends, I caught glimpses between meetings and conference calls of the Senate hearing on September 27. As much as I would like to think that I could watch the hearing in an objective, non-partisan manner, the truth is I couldn’t. My past experiences shaped what I heard and my reactions to both Dr. Blasey Ford and Judge Kavanaugh. Listening to Dr. Ford elicited the feelings I had when I was sexually harassed. Listening to Judge Kavanaugh reminded me how I’ve felt when I’ve been on the receiving end of men yelling at me and interrupting me. Fortunately, this has not happened frequently, but each time it has, I felt shamed by these men while also thinking the men were not in control of their emotions. And finally, listening to Senator Graham’s comments reminded me of being told by several Republicans that my views are “wrong,” and it’s not worth having a conversation with me. So, there it is – my admission that my own experiences shaped what I saw and heard on Thursday.

On Friday, I felt a range of emotions – fear, sadness, and exhaustion. On Friday afternoon, I participated on a standing monthly call with a group of colleagues from across the country that have been meeting for more than a year to discuss how to integrate systems thinking into our work. We start all of these calls giving each participant an opportunity to reflect. Perhaps it was because I have established a level of rapport and trust with the other participants. Perhaps it was because these are video conference calls, and we can see the facial expressions of the others. Or perhaps it was just because I was feeling tired. Regardless, when it was my turn to reflect, I admitted to the group that the events of the day before had left me exhausted and distracted.

The others on the call reported having some of the same feelings. We noted the work that has been conducted around the power of “inviting the whole person to work – spirit, heart, body, and mind.” The key environmental components necessary to do this are safety, trust, and valuing people as human beings. It’s clear that those components are present for this group. Once all of us acknowledged the feelings that were distracting us, we were able to effectively transition into the purpose of our call – building capacity for systems thinking.

For those who are unfamiliar with systems thinking, it involves helping people view systems from a broad perspective that includes seeing overall structures, patterns and cycles in systems, rather than seeing only specific events in the system. Chris Soderquist, founder of Pontifex Consulting, describes systems thinking as a disciplined “thinking framework” that increases our ability to pool and integrate multiple – and often contrasting perspectives – in ways that generate powerful insight. Through this process, we are also learning to grapple with complexity and ambiguity. I remain profoundly grateful to these colleagues and our continued opportunities to learn and explore new ways to enhance our work.

“A systems approach begins when first you see the world through the eyes of another.”

C. West Churchman

I think I may have witnessed systems thinking in action last Friday. In a rare moment of bipartisanship during the Senate Judiciary Committee meeting, Senator Jeff Flake, Republican from Arizona, motioned for Senator Chris Coons, Democrat from Delaware, to join him outside the committee room. When the senators returned to the meeting, Senator Flake asked the committee to postpone a floor vote on Kavanaugh’s nomination to the Supreme Court for one week to allow an FBI investigation of the sexual assault allegations against him.

I don’t pretend to know Senator Flake’s reason for requesting the FBI investigation. Whether it was his encounter with two impassioned sexual assault survivors on his way to the meeting on Friday or listening to Senator Coons’ calm, heartfelt plea for a brief delay, he was visibly moved as shown by the video footage of him during the meeting. I don’t know if the FBI investigation will change anything. It’s possible, even likely, that it will not.

What I do know is that today, I feel more hopeful that two friends with vastly different political beliefs can still have a civil conversation, and perhaps make a difference in our deeply divided country.