“I am not important enough to his career for him to have time for dinner with me.”
I heard this sobering assessment a dozen years ago. It still echoes in my mind.
I knew it had been two years since my department chairperson had seen his friend. They had become close while both were junior faculty members at a prestigious medical school. My chairperson had created his friend’s first opportunities to advance. Now a national meeting in our city would give them a cherished opportunity to refresh their friendship. Or so I thought. Instead, his friend’s focus on prized seats at dinner tables with those who could open new professional doors for him left poignant signs the core of their friendship had become (or had all along been?) shallow/inauthentic.
I remember imagining my disappointed chairperson – after having been brushed aside by his friend -- recasting his recollection of the conversations and experiences they had shared. I remember wondering if his friend and everyone else around the dinner tables where he was maneuvering to be invited understood the score. I remember doubting that genuine discourse would occur around those tables.
Are you familiar with Trina Paulus’ tale about two caterpillars -- Stripe and Yellow – in Hope for the Flowers (1972)? This children’s story has a challenging twist for adults. Stripe does what he sees all caterpillars doing. As soon as he is able, he crawls with mounting excitement to the nearest caterpillar pillar. These pillars tower into the clouds in every direction as far as Stripe can see. The objective – make it to the top of one of these pillars. The method – climb or be climbed. The rationale – no one knows or takes time to think about it. Stripe quickly gets used to pushing and being pushed, to kicking and being kicked, to stepping on and being stepped on. Part way up the caterpillar pillar, he begins to wonder what is at the top. He crawls over a yellow caterpillar. Their eyes meet. They begin to talk as they continue to climb. The more they talk, the less single-minded Stripe and Yellow become. Stripe wonders to himself, “How can I step on someone I’ve just talked to?” He avoids Yellow as much as possible as they climb, but one day she is blocking his only way up. “I guess it’s you or me”, he says and steps squarely on her head. The way Yellow looks at him makes Stripe feel awful – “Can getting to the top be worth that?” He crawls off Yellow and whispers, “I’m sorry”. They decide to crawl down the pillar together – a hard but necessary decision in the search for another way of being.
When their eyes met and they began to talk, Stripe and Yellow experienced respect. The word respect shares a Latin root (i.e., specere which mean ‘to look’) with a number of words we hear/use every day – e.g., spectacles, spectator, spectacle, spectacular, speculum, speculate, suspect, aspect, circumspect, prospective, . . . . To respect someone is to look back or look again with genuine interest. To respect someone is to value the more we did not experience at first glance. Respect diminishes violence, prejudice, exploitation, selfishness, abuse. Respect expands community.
Look at today’s ‘to do’ list. We all have goals, objectives, assignments, pending evaluations. When did we last treat such as more important than respecting those around us? What if our eyes had met their eyes? When is it ethically justified to disrespect others?
I remember imagining my disappointed chairperson – after having been brushed aside by his friend -- recasting his recollection of the conversations and experiences they had shared. I remember wondering if his friend and everyone else around the dinner tables where he was maneuvering to be invited understood the score. I remember doubting that genuine discourse would occur around those tables.
Are you familiar with Trina Paulus’ tale about two caterpillars -- Stripe and Yellow – in Hope for the Flowers (1972)? This children’s story has a challenging twist for adults. Stripe does what he sees all caterpillars doing. As soon as he is able, he crawls with mounting excitement to the nearest caterpillar pillar. These pillars tower into the clouds in every direction as far as Stripe can see. The objective – make it to the top of one of these pillars. The method – climb or be climbed. The rationale – no one knows or takes time to think about it. Stripe quickly gets used to pushing and being pushed, to kicking and being kicked, to stepping on and being stepped on. Part way up the caterpillar pillar, he begins to wonder what is at the top. He crawls over a yellow caterpillar. Their eyes meet. They begin to talk as they continue to climb. The more they talk, the less single-minded Stripe and Yellow become. Stripe wonders to himself, “How can I step on someone I’ve just talked to?” He avoids Yellow as much as possible as they climb, but one day she is blocking his only way up. “I guess it’s you or me”, he says and steps squarely on her head. The way Yellow looks at him makes Stripe feel awful – “Can getting to the top be worth that?” He crawls off Yellow and whispers, “I’m sorry”. They decide to crawl down the pillar together – a hard but necessary decision in the search for another way of being.
When their eyes met and they began to talk, Stripe and Yellow experienced respect. The word respect shares a Latin root (i.e., specere which mean ‘to look’) with a number of words we hear/use every day – e.g., spectacles, spectator, spectacle, spectacular, speculum, speculate, suspect, aspect, circumspect, prospective, . . . . To respect someone is to look back or look again with genuine interest. To respect someone is to value the more we did not experience at first glance. Respect diminishes violence, prejudice, exploitation, selfishness, abuse. Respect expands community.
Look at today’s ‘to do’ list. We all have goals, objectives, assignments, pending evaluations. When did we last treat such as more important than respecting those around us? What if our eyes had met their eyes? When is it ethically justified to disrespect others?
Think about it. Perhaps talk to a co-worker.
And what was happening at the top of the caterpillar pillars? Cycle after cycle of desperate/frightened caterpillars clutching their positions until eventually the upward thrust from the caterpillars nearing the top shoved them off/over the side.
