On drawing lines

“I’ve just about had enough.”

A phrase most often coupled by parents with “Don’t make me come back there.”

Some how, some way, we all want to set boundaries on what we can live with.  And often, we want to back that up with some promise of force or other action if any one is so bold as to cross that line.  After all, don’t people need to know that invading boundaries invokes consequences?

I’m a boundary-loving person — but not big on consequences.  That’s not to say that I don’t impose consequences.  I’m just not thrilled about it.

Yet, consequences are a natural . . . well, uh . . . consequence of life.  Any action I take or word I speak holds tremendous potential for ripples.  And when the boundaries are the right ones, then the attendant, well-reasoned consequences serve a noble purpose — even if the consequences are difficult.

But what happens if my “line in the sand” is misplaced?

Perhaps because of my distaste for imposing consequences, I’m fairly even-handed in dealing them out.  My difficulty, it seems, comes in staking out the wrong boundaries or sometimes the right boundaries for the wrong reasons.  That’s not to say that the lines I draw aren’t close to the right vicinity.  However, if I can’t explain why they’re there, do I dare defend them?

William Ury in his book, The Power of a Positive No, addresses this problem with his concept of packaging a “No” as three answers.  The first answer is a “Yes!” to yourself and your own values.  The second is a firm “No.” to the person or persons making demands or asking you to shift your boundaries.  The final answer is a “Yes?” that can spur further conversation.

Even though I violated all sorts of writing styles in including them, the punctuation on those answers is important.  The exclamation point on the first “Yes!” shows the enthusiasm and positive energy we should feel in recognizing where our own interests are.  The period on the “No.” makes it a calm, flat statement.  A negative answer is often delivered with anxiety and in a way that provokes argument or, even worse, ends all conversation.  A healthy, well-meaning “No” leaves room for continued dialog.  The question mark on the final “Yes?” invites others into a discussion of what could be.  In other words, “Yes?” says, “Your position or request is outside of my current boundaries.  Could we talk about our common interests and see if there is some place we could agree?  Who knows?  Perhaps our boundaries could use adjustment.”

I’m not sure that my “first yes” in all situations bears that exclamation point.  I doubt whether I’ve always invested in discovering and testing those personal boundaries. Since it’s the first piece of a positive “no,” my work is cut out for me.

I’ll be taking drawing lessons in the near future.  Who would have thought that sketching an exclamation point could present such a challenge?

‘Taken Identity

I don’t get as many letters from credit card companies as I used to.  You see, a little over a year ago, heeding the dire warnings of those who guarantee to protect me from identity bandits, I signed up with a service that monitors my credit accounts and warns me if some dastardly persons are using my good name in a way that drains my money and ruins my reputation.  One of the side benefits is that this service also puts my name on a number of “don’t solicit” lists.

I also signed up for the “do not call me during dinner” service provided by the federal government.  I still have companies calling me — I don’t really expect a government service to be entirely effective (guess there’s still a bit of Republican hanging on) — but now we just use our caller id to screen out those nuisance calls.  Of course, some make their way through and leave messages that I have little interest in.  Mostly political calls (which are exempt from the do not call register) and usually recorded messages from our governor and congressman — both Republicans, by the way.

If you’re thinking that I’m writing here about political affiliation, let me assure you that I’m not — and I am.  What I’m really talking about here is how we take a combination of experiences and brand people with an identity that fits our purposes.

So, if you’re a Republican, it’s easier for you to talk with me about politics if you can assign me the label of Republican or Democrat.  You may get a little edgy if I tell you I’m an Independent or a Libertarian.  I’m not, but let me confuse things even further.  I am actually a member of the “informed voter” party.  And no, that doesn’t mean that I’m really a Republican or a Democrat.  I have definite views and beliefs.  However, you can’t neatly box me in with anyone else.  I can’t vote a straight ticket.

Beyond political parties, we like branding people as liberal or conservative, moderate or progressive, capitalist or communist.  It’s just easier for us.  This spills over into other areas of life, as well.  If we perceive that a person is not as adept in our mother tongue as we are, we talk to them differently.  Have you ever listened in on your conversations with a baby or small child?  Or a foreign speaker?  Or someone with less education?  Or someone from a different race or culture?  It’s often obvious that we choose to categorize such folks rather than to talk to them (and more importantly, about them) as people.

Instead of taking someone else’s private information in order to steal money or misdirect communication, I believe that I may often be guilty of taking personal identities and changing them to what is most convenient to me.  I assign motives and characteristics.  I blame. I seek to exalt myself.

Perhaps I am an identity thief, of sorts.

For today, at least, I’m pledging to drop my labeling scheme.  For today, I will listen to each person who crosses my path as an individual who is worthy of my respect — free from bias.  For today, I promise not to steal the identities of others simply to recraft them for my gain.

Might be a good day to visit with me.

Might even make tomorrow a better day.

Prophet

In what must be an abundance of coincidence, I have, of late, heard a number of speakers call for new prophets to arise.

My understanding of a prophet is that he or she is one who “utters divine revelations” or “foretells future events.” Generally, a prophet is one who forecasts trouble ahead. Although it would seem reasonable that these folks should also have some sort of ability to paint bright futures. In that event, I suppose we would call them optimists and dismiss them out of hand.

Economists have been cast in the role of prophet. What was that introduction line? Oh, yes . . . “this man has accurately forecast 12 of the last ten economic recessions.” The truth is, we grow weary of prophets because they tell us things we don’t want to hear. And, more often than not, they haven’t coupled the bad news with a plan for the future.

The difficulty for most of us is that some self-appointed prophets are merely critics. The difference between a prophet and a critic is that a prophet spends time listening to a divine being. Critics, on the other hand, listen to themselves and thus proclaim their own divinity.

I have had my moments as a critic. Undoubtedly I will climb that soapbox again. My hope is that I will have the presence of mind to delay my rantings. That I will close my mouth and descend until I have time to listen.

Very few prophets have soared above the altitude of critics and shown leadership. Those who have are those who have listened to voices from diverse springings — including the divine, in my opinion. And, in the end, they are those who offer at least a single step in a positive direction.

By all means, O Prophets, let us hear you if you see injustice, waste, or stupidity. But only if you offer us a step toward justice, stewardship, and wisdom.

The Will to Win

I’ve been reading the comments on my preacher’s blog for about the last 15 minutes. The topic is war and whether war is a business that followers of Christ should be about. Or something like that.

When I waded into the various postings of those who felt they had something to say, I saw what I always see when people draw together for hand-to-hand combat. Fear. Anxiety. A desire to control those closest to us. A real need to overpower others.

Not all of the comments were like that. But as the list unfolded through scroll-down after scroll-down of questions, replies, and retorts, the ugly nature of human interaction emerged.

A few of the commentators were avowed pacifists. Some others hinted at their law-and-order tack.

Ironic, isn’t it that — at least for purposes of the blog discussion — people on both sides of the question were unabashedly aggressive and mean-spirited?

I applaud those who talk for the sake of conversation — both in blogs and in real life. I celebrate those who can express themselves well. And by well, I mean those who can make a point or a counterpoint without attacking the person on the other side of the table. A free exchange of ideas.

I have a growing intolerance of those on both sides of any issue who believe that being cynical and destructive in a blog discussion or a television interview or around a coffee table is any less disgusting than the “real world violence” they decry or justify.

Conversation must continue. But, the will to win must cease being our motivation for having the conversation.

Let’s talk. I have a will to understand what you think and what you feel. For I’m afraid if I have the will to win, I will never hear you.

Careful! Words have meanings.

I am constantly astounded the way that plain, ordinary, everyday words can be misunderstood.  Then I remember things like stream of conciousness and context. And then there’s the “I just wasn’t thinking” defense.

 My first glance at the morning news was drawn to the plight of Senator Joe Biden.  In an article already on the internet and to be published tomorrow, Senator Biden began his work of discrediting the other Democratic hopefuls for President in 2008.  His primary criticisms hover around Iraq and his disdain for the strategies of those who have announced their interest in the Oval Office.

His own ideas about the future of Iraq are unique — involving the separation of people with various beliefs from each other.  Under his plan, the Sunnis, the Shiites, and the Kurds would all be sent to their respective corners of the country.  Never mind that some of those groups don’t really want to go to the corners he has picked out for them.  For some reason, Senator Biden believes that the best approach to peacemaking is building barriers between those who think differently.

Ironically, the senator is a leader in a country where we allow individuals to have opinions and promote different ideas.  And segregation is frowned on.  So, Senator Biden, feel free to share your plans from our very midst.

But the morning news wasn’t focused on the senator’s ideas about Iraq.  No, indeed.  Instead, the concern was over the words he chose to describe one of his opponents, Barack Obama.  According to the New York Observer, Senator Biden said, “I mean, you got the first mainstream African-American who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy.  I mean, that’s a storybook, man.”

Hard to tell exactly what he meant, storybook or otherwise.  All of those descriptive words could be classified as complimentary or, at worst, neutral.  And that’s what the senator insists they are. 

On the other hand, his statements could be taken as a little racist — okay, a lot racist.  Particularly in the context of the promotion of his plan to separate people based on race and belief.

I really hope that Senator Biden has simply fallen to the wrong choice of words.  The truth is, politics, as we have come to know it, has become a battleground where being different is essential.  And equally important is the need to show that the differences of others denote their inferiority.

When you look at it that way, perhaps politics is the pinnacle of prejudice.  Or perhaps not.  After all, words and the actions they provoke can be viewed from many angles.