Tag: differences

Healthy Differences

The light turned green, and the SUV in front of me inched into the intersection.

I followed, driving at a reasonable pace but an unreasonably close distance.

What else could I do? Keeping space going to be tricky with this vehicle moving at 2 miles an hour ahead of me. Both my view and my way through were obstructed.

I knew I needed to reach the other side of the intersection before the light turned red. Or else, I’d get t-boned by an oncoming vehicle.

So, once I had an ounce of daylight, I pounced. I cut the wheel and accelerated, heading for a lane to the inside of the SUV. As I did, I craned my neck to stare at the driver of then9tyer vehicle.

A young Asian woman was behind the wheel. She was holding a printed-out pamphlet. And she seemed to be reading intently from it rather than looking at the road.

Reading. A document. While driving!

As I sped away from this unconscionable sight, I had but one thought.

Lord have mercy.

About 200 miles away from this ill-fated intersection, there’s a restaurant with a letterboard sign.

El Arroyo is a known entity in Austin, Texas. A restaurant so famous for its Tex-Mex cuisine that it once was mentioned in a Pat Green song. But that letterboard – and the witty sayings displayed on it – has gained even greater renown.

I’ve shared plenty of those letterboard wisecracks with my friends over the years. But only one has made my simultaneously laugh and wince.

It reads: I’m going to need you to drive with the same energy you pulled in front of me with.

I laugh because of the tone this line implies. I wince because of the experience it illustrates.

You see, Miss Pamplet Reader is far from the only clueless driver I’ve needed to steer around over the years. It seems that a great many people have forgotten their Driver’s Education lessons. Or any kernels of common sense, for that matter.

There are the slow drivers who clog up the passing lane. There are the lost drivers who come to a dead stop in the middle of the road, rather than pulling over. And there are the inconsiderate drivers who turn without signaling or merge without looking.

It’s enough to drive an upstanding citizen to road rage.

Of course, I know better than to go nuclear. So, to spare my sanity, I recite a couple lines from the safety of my vehicle when I encounter these troublemakers.

I drive like I have somewhere to be. You drive like you’re just messing around.

It’s neat and tidy. And it draws a clear lane line between me and the imbeciles I encounter on the road.

If only they stayed out of my lane.

These days, there’s a lot of talk about the dangers of divisiveness.

Perhaps this is a function of modern times.

Misogyny is no longer ignored. Racism is no longer broadly accepted. It seems to be a peaceful, enlightened era.

And yet, polarization is everywhere we turn.

It’s a whirlwind.

The knee jerk responses to our puzzling present are pulls to the extremes. Attempts to stamp out any semblance of dividing lines, or to draw them ever thicker.

Neither option is correct.

You see, differences can be useful in certain circumstances. They can provide needed context and help define model behaviors.

Driver classification is one of those circumstances. If we normalized the foibles of bad drivers, our roadways would become an even bigger mess than they currently are. Calling out poor behaviors is necessary to keep things moving properly.

But differences can be a poison pill in other situations. Dividing on the basis of gender, religion, or ethnicity has never been an optimal decision. Nor has doing so led to equitably productive outcomes.

So yes, nuance is everything when it comes to differences. And when matters more than what.

But how do we know the right moments to lean in – and which moments to pull back?

The answer’s not as hard to find as we might think.

In the early 1960s, the United States Supreme Court faced a difficult case.

The nine justices were asked to determine if obscenity was protected by the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. But the answer hinged on an even tougher question: What exactly was obscenity?

For all the uproar the term brought, no one could quite define it succinctly.

So, in an opinion for Jacobellis v. Ohio, Justice Potter Stewart introduced a threshold test for obscenity. That test was punctuated by seven words: I know it when I see it.

More than a half century later, few people can recall the details of that case. But they can quote that line ad nauseum.

You see, Stewart’s words were both memorable and resonant. And his phrasing would set a template for other tricky definitions.

Culture is one of them.

It’s easy to identify strong cultural tenets. But have you tried explaining what culture actually is, clearly and succinctly?

If so, I doubt you’ve gotten far.

Fortunately, Seth Godin is up to the task. The marketing guru has defined culture with his own seven-word phrase – one that would make Justice Stewart proud.

People like us do things like this.

Godin and Stewart’s phrases should serve as guideposts for highlighting differences. They can help determine when doing so is healthy and when it’s toxic.

For one phase leans into description, while the other tilts toward action.

I know it when I see it relies solely on our snap judgments. It appeases our own sensibilities but hardly goes deeper.

Such a self-serving approach can lead us to divide based on skin tone, faith, or class – all of which can easily turn toxic.

But People like us do things like this answers a higher calling. It commands us to consider collective values and behaviors. And it inspires us to influence others toward them – generally in mutually beneficial ways.

There are exceptions to this principle of course. History is littered with examples of societies that have exploited groupthink to cause great harm. And plenty of cults are built on the premise of People like us do things like this.

Still, on the balance, action-based differentiation is a signal of a benevolent culture. It helps us to strive for better. To lift each other up, rather than put each other down.

That’s a calling that speaks to me.

So, I will continue to keep my eye on the dividing lines when I’m driving, exercising, working, or otherwise engaged in an activity. I will embrace the variety with a full heart and an open mind.

Spotting differences can be healthy. And I’m here for it.

Are you?

Shades of Similarity

The plane turned onto the runway. And in an instant, we were off.

The outer boroughs of New York City appeared out the airplane window, followed by the towns of northern New Jersey.

Looking out at the expanse of suburbia before me, I was struck by its ubiquity.

There were houses with lush, green yards. There were residential roads winding through neighborhoods. There were shopping centers.

And there were schools. Plenty of schools.

The school buildings were mostly nondescript from 10,000 feet in the air. But they were still easy to spot. For abutting them were football fields encircled by running tracks.

A few hours later, the plane descended upon the Dallas area. I stared out the window, relishing the rare opportunity to view my home from the sky.

Yet, what I saw was strikingly similar. Homes with large yards. Residential roads winding through neighborhoods. Shopping centers.

And plenty of schools, abutted by football fields and running tracks.

Now, the scene wasn’t entirely identical. Stifling summer heat had turned the grass from green to a yellowish brown. And those football fields were surrounded by large grandstands — a testament to the Texan passion for Friday Night Lights.

Still, on the whole of it, the scene in suburban Texas wasn’t all that different from the one in suburban New Jersey.

And that similarity — it resonated.

It’s no secret that we live in a polarized society.

We seem inclined to disagreement. And the bickering we take part in can quickly spiral out of control.

As part of this behavior pattern, we tend to divvy up territory. We take the old trope of Red States and Blue States to the max, treating the places that house those with conflicting viewpoints as dens of heathens.

I am no stranger to this principle. Growing up an ardent sports fan, I despised the Boston Red Sox in pro baseball and the Florida State Seminoles in college football. I particularly loathed the fans of these teams, often arguing with them vociferously in person and online.

As the vitriol intensified, I started to shun the cities these teams played in — Boston and Tallahassee. The way I saw it, these locales were saturated with these despicable fans — so they were inherently inferior to my own stomping grounds.

Fortunately, such closed-mindedness didn’t last all that long. Late in my high school days, I visited a cousin who had moved to Boston. To my surprise, I discovered a charming, vibrant city on the bank of the Charles River — a far cry from the hellhole I’d expected.

Then in college, I traveled to Tallahassee to see my favorite team take on the Seminoles in their stadium. Florida’s capital was less charming than Massachusetts’ was, but it still seemed like a pleasant enough southern town.

Surprisingly, I even hit it off with some Florida State fans while tailgating. We shared brews and snacks, if not allegiances.

The experience was enlightening, and it dampened my zeal to judge territory outside my own backyard. Yet, the principle of us versus them never quite went away.

After moving to Texas, I found myself othering the area I’d come from. While I wasn’t a native Texan, I was fully committed to my new home. As such, I felt obligated to prove that I wasn’t a carpetbagger.

Family and friends back north howled at this development. Yet, many of them had questioned my decision to move to Texas in the first place. They had viewed it as a tacit approval for the Lone Star State’s most extreme stereotypes. And this had left a chip on my shoulder.

Over time, I softened my stance. But the environment around me went in the other direction.

Polarization intensified, spurred on by the isolating effects of a global pandemic. Botched responses to extreme weather turned a critical eye on Texas’ infrastructure. And the state’s conservative leaning political decision turned downright radical.

With all these developments, it was hard not to see other corners of the country as different. Sure, I could get food from the same chain restaurants in the Northeast or Midwest that I could in Texas. And people spoke the same language in Denver as they did in Dallas. But how much else was really in common?

It took that airplane flight, and the revelation about high school football fields, for me to realize just how similar we all still are.

It’s a realization that could use a broader audience.

North of the border, the drivers travel at NASCAR speeds. Distances between cities are longer, people are shorter, and temperatures that make shiver leave the locals sweltering.

None of this is true, of course. At least not as written.

You see, Canada uses the Metric system, while that United States does not. And that leads to some novel forms of measurement.

Kilometers take the place of miles. Meters take the place of feet. And Celsius takes the place of Fahrenheit.

People aren’t really shorter, or driving faster, or wilting around in frigid conditions in Canada. It just seems that way if we take Metric measurements at American standards.

We must do some math to reconcile these discrepancies. And yet, millions of Americans have visited our neighbors up north over the years. And relatively few of them have gotten completely waylaid due to the Metric system.

If we can fare so well in a land where the distance markers — and much more — vary from our norms, why can’t we find the shades of similarity in our own nation?

Instead of pitting Texas against New Jersey, for instance, we can note that high schoolers in both states play football on the same sized gridiron.

This shift in focus won’t wipe away our differences. They’re still out there, and they’re too prominent to paint over.

But it can help us avert the toxic spiral of divisiveness. It can keep hyper-partisanship in check. It can take the teeth out of othering.

These are outcomes we should yearn for. More than that, they’re outcomes our society needs.

So, let’s tamp down the rhetoric. Let’s respect our differences. And let’s shift the spotlight to shades of similarity.

It starts with us.

Respecting Our Rivals

Competition is a hallmark of our society. We view our world in terms of winners and losers, haves and have-nots. The moment of truth is upon us in everything we do — for us to achieve our objective, someone else is likely going to fail at attaining it.

However, not all competitions are viewed as equal. Rivalries stand apart on the playing field, in the political arena and in our neighborhood.

Whether due to proximity or competitive spirit, rivalries are notably intense — so much so that foiling a rival’s objective is seemingly more important than obtaining what both sides so desperately seek. As such, angry words are often exchanged and lines are drawn in the sand. No wonder unaffiliated commentators often describe the conflict as “good, old fashioned hate.”

Yes, rivalries are quite the spectacle. We’re drawn to them because they get us hot under the collar. Some would even say they’re a necessary emotional outlet.

But all too often, they go too far.

Recently, the emotional tensions of rivalries have been at least partially responsible for the savage beating of a San Francisco Giants fan in the Dodger Stadium parking lot and the contentious post-election rallies both for and against President-Elect Donald Trump. Going back even further, the Hatfield-McCoy feud wiped out a substantial portion of each family — mostly for trivial reasons.

These tragic incidents have a common theme — unchecked emotion. Opposing sides have viewed their rival as their enemy, and then used that identification to justify actions that crossed the line.

Sadly, these examples are far from the only ones of a rivalry going too far. By glorifying the contentious nature of rivals going at it, our society enables us to go to the point of no return, time and again.

It’s like setting a fire and then dumping a full canister of gasoline on it; the flames are sure to burn out of control.

It needs to stop now.

And it can. We just need to change our perspective.

I understand this well. As a University of Miami alum, I have no warm or fuzzy feelings for Florida State University. Both schools have had a long and contentious football rivalry, but the contempt goes deeper than that. A difference in perceived academic standards and student demographics has helped turn even general discussions about Miami and Florida State into situations where participants must choose one or the other.

Perhaps the most poignant example of this was a phrase I learned as a freshman at Miami: “Friends don’t let friends go to Florida State.”

The salty relationship between the two schools permeated my soul. Long before I put a kibosh on the term, I actively stated that I hated Florida State. I talked a lot of smack and belittled people I didn’t even know just because they wore garnet and gold.

However, things changed slightly by the end of my college days. On Labor Day weekend of my senior year of school, I drove up to Tallahassee to watch Miami and Florida State face off in football. Parking was scarce, and I ended up finding a space in a bank parking lot.

As I set up my tailgating gear, three people who had parked nearby started chatting me up. They were Florida State fans from Fort Lauderdale, and we quickly got to talking about our common home region. Soon enough we were drinking beer together, despite rooting for rival teams.

This situation taught me a lot. I learned that I can have a lot in common with people who make different choices than I do, and that it’s possible to respect my rivals.

I can honestly say that I take a different perspective involving rivalries now. When Miami takes on Florida State each year, you can bet I want nothing more than to see my Hurricanes come away with the W. But I also think about what a blessing it is to see my team share the field with an old rival, with both teams giving it everything they have. I think about how fortunate both Miami and Florida State fans are to inextricably be a part of so many classic games and legendary moments. And I think about how, win or lose, life goes on for both fan bases.

At the end of the day, I’m honored to have the chance to circle the Florida State game date on my calendar every year.

As a client of mine — who’s a Florida State alum — once told me, the Florida State-Miami rivalry is a respectful rivalry. Although there are always going to be quite a few bad eggs out there in the stands, I truly believe that statement to be true.

I think it’s important that we take this perspective with all of our rivalries. Our country is far too divisive right now, and it’s sending us spiraling backwards. Fanning the flames with unbridled contempt does us no good.

We cannot move forward as a unified society if we can’t stand to communicate with those whose views differ from ours. While we might not all have the same perspective, we should at least share common decency to view each other as people, not targets.

So, let’s work on respecting our rivals. For at the end of the day, we all are sharing this planet.