You may have noticed the blog has moved back to Facebook. My husband (who has me beat when it comes to the Internet) told me it was "pain in the ass" to find the blog through Instagram. I should've run this little field study on a test subject before announcing the big move, but I didn't. So here we are.
November was weird. It's funny, sometimes you don't realize what a routine your life is until you break away from it for a while. This is what this past month has been for me. We have a family schedule, we have work schedules, I (try to) keep a social schedule, etc...the wheels just keep on turning.
I recently learned that the term for this is "unconscious competence". When you get so good at or used to doing something that you don't realize you're doing it anymore. Like driving from your house to your office in the morning...sometimes you arrive and you don't know how you got there (let's assume you haven't been drinking). In some ways, a whole life can become this way; a series of similar and repetitive events. Until one day, something changes.
I recently learned that the term for this is "unconscious competence". When you get so good at or used to doing something that you don't realize you're doing it anymore. Like driving from your house to your office in the morning...sometimes you arrive and you don't know how you got there (let's assume you haven't been drinking). In some ways, a whole life can become this way; a series of similar and repetitive events. Until one day, something changes.
November 10th was when things changed for me. It was the first day of a week-long conference centered around Diversity and Inclusion in a charming little Arizona town called Tubac (just north of the Mexican border). I'm both interested and passionate about diversity in the workplace and how it can strengthen a company while empowering employees. I was also interested and passionate about getting out of New Hampshire for a week now that the winter chill has settled over New England.
I spent four days with twenty five other professionals from various companies in this chapel:
I spent four days with twenty five other professionals from various companies in this chapel:
It was amazing.
I'm not going to go through the four days in this post for a couple of reasons. First, it would be impossible to summarize the workshop and second, it would come out all wrong. For a week I was completely outside my comfort zone both physically and mentally. I met new people, had difficult conversations and witnessed the way others perceive the world. It was gritty, it was uncomfortable, and at times the conversations were a bit messy. Obviously, I loved it. If you're interested in learning more here's the link to the consulting group that puts these "experiential labs" on: http://wmfdp.com/
The lab was facilitated by two women and this guy, Bill Proudman:
https://www.womenetics.com/Article/ArtMID/2681/ArticleID/2563/bill-proudman-diversity-partners
The best way to explain my time in Tubac is that when I left, my heart - and my eyes felt a little different.
The lab was facilitated by two women and this guy, Bill Proudman:
https://www.womenetics.com/Article/ArtMID/2681/ArticleID/2563/bill-proudman-diversity-partners
The best way to explain my time in Tubac is that when I left, my heart - and my eyes felt a little different.
Friday morning when the workshop ended I packed up my things and headed to the airport in my rental car. It was about 5:30 in the morning and still pretty dark when I was stopped by border patrol at a checkpoint on the highway.
Needless to say, this is a relatively atypical situation for a girl from New Hampshire to find herself in. I'm accustomed to handing an officer my license and registration when I get stopped, so I didn't understand the man at first when he asked me "Are you a US citizen?" He kinda said it fast and mumbly so I didn't 100% understand him. My response was "What?" To which he replied "I SAID ARE YOU A U.S. CITIZEN?"
Needless to say, this is a relatively atypical situation for a girl from New Hampshire to find herself in. I'm accustomed to handing an officer my license and registration when I get stopped, so I didn't understand the man at first when he asked me "Are you a US citizen?" He kinda said it fast and mumbly so I didn't 100% understand him. My response was "What?" To which he replied "I SAID ARE YOU A U.S. CITIZEN?"
He yelled it. Pretty much in my face. I nervously responded "yes" and then answered a number of questions about where I'd been, where I was heading, and if I had any people that were not easily visible in my vehicle. After a quick sniff (literally, by dogs) of my rental car I was on my way. Just to be clear, I was not at the border of Mexico and the United States... I was already in the country - this was just a random checkpoint.
As I drove off in my rented mini-van, the sun was rising. The morning Arizona sun was lighting the mountains up bright pink and the horizon was orange. I blinked my eyes a few times and reminded myself how there are all these worlds happening every day, all day, outside of the one I know.
I squinted my eyes hard against the early morning glow as I drove...they felt different.
I arrived to the airport on time, returned the car and got through security in enough time to grab a coffee and a bunch of celebrity rags. Why do I only read US Weekly and People when I'm on an airplane? It's like ordering tomato juice. You don't know why you do it, you just do.
When I boarded my flight home I noticed the front row of the airplane was filled with members of the military, all in full dress. There was a woman sitting next to them crying quietly to herself. After all the passengers were on board the pilot informed us that our flight was transporting a fallen soldier back home to New Hampshire and to please stay seated upon landing to allow his widow and escorts to de-board the plane first. The whole flight felt surreal.
When we landed in Manchester the runway was lined with military personnel, police officers and firemen - all standing at attention, waiting for our plane. When the plane finally stopped moving the widow and her escorts stood up, and as instructed, everyone remained in their seats. Then altogether, as though on queue, all the passengers started clapping.
Eventually, everyone was standing at their seats and clapping for the woman as she walked out the door and up the ramp. She turned to nod her head at us and I could see that both of our eyes were full with tears. I've never been that close to bravery or so touched by sacrifice as I was in that moment. I wiped my watery eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, and when I opened them - everything looked different.
I had a fresh set of eyes.
I had spent an entire week trying to understand how people different from myself see the world. But it was my travels home that changed the way the world looked to me. As I sat alone at the baggage claim in a trance-like state reflecting back on the trip I thought to myself - 'So what now? What do I do with these new eyes?'
I'll use them to remind myself that though I may be the star of my own show, there are countless other plays happening every second of every day that bear no resemblance to mine. I'll use them to see that everyone takes the world in differently. I'll use them to recognize the privileges I consider normal and the safety I take for granted. I'll do the only thing a person can do once their eyes have been opened wider...I'll use them to see.
I squinted my eyes hard against the early morning glow as I drove...they felt different.
I arrived to the airport on time, returned the car and got through security in enough time to grab a coffee and a bunch of celebrity rags. Why do I only read US Weekly and People when I'm on an airplane? It's like ordering tomato juice. You don't know why you do it, you just do.
When I boarded my flight home I noticed the front row of the airplane was filled with members of the military, all in full dress. There was a woman sitting next to them crying quietly to herself. After all the passengers were on board the pilot informed us that our flight was transporting a fallen soldier back home to New Hampshire and to please stay seated upon landing to allow his widow and escorts to de-board the plane first. The whole flight felt surreal.
When we landed in Manchester the runway was lined with military personnel, police officers and firemen - all standing at attention, waiting for our plane. When the plane finally stopped moving the widow and her escorts stood up, and as instructed, everyone remained in their seats. Then altogether, as though on queue, all the passengers started clapping.
Eventually, everyone was standing at their seats and clapping for the woman as she walked out the door and up the ramp. She turned to nod her head at us and I could see that both of our eyes were full with tears. I've never been that close to bravery or so touched by sacrifice as I was in that moment. I wiped my watery eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, and when I opened them - everything looked different.
I had a fresh set of eyes.
I had spent an entire week trying to understand how people different from myself see the world. But it was my travels home that changed the way the world looked to me. As I sat alone at the baggage claim in a trance-like state reflecting back on the trip I thought to myself - 'So what now? What do I do with these new eyes?'
I'll use them to remind myself that though I may be the star of my own show, there are countless other plays happening every second of every day that bear no resemblance to mine. I'll use them to see that everyone takes the world in differently. I'll use them to recognize the privileges I consider normal and the safety I take for granted. I'll do the only thing a person can do once their eyes have been opened wider...I'll use them to see.
