"How can you believe that?” the person asked me incredulously.
Such adversarial responses are typically stoked by either politics or religion. And yes, it was the former that irked my fellow conversationalist.
Anyone who sat by the incendiary fireplace of the 2016 presidential elections is suffering from third-degree emotional and mental burns. The flames, ignored over several decades, have scorched our political discourse on the national scene, in our communities and in our homes.
In late September, I was invited to take part in a two-day leadership retreat. The participants represented a cross section of ages, races, incomes, political views and geography. We came from North Carolina and New Hampshire; we were Bernie-crats, Trumpicans and party loyalists. We were anarchists and institutionalists.
As for an agenda? There was none.
“You might be wondering why there’s no agenda in your packet,” the facilitator began, satiating our noticeable curiosity. “Well, you are the agenda.”
Seated in a stretched-out circle, we looked toward the eye of our ring and saw a set of markers and tear sheets. “If there’s something you want to bring up, write it down and post it on the wall,” the facilitator said.
About a dozen of us darted for the markers, much like participants in “The Hunger Games” pursuing their weapon of choice.
Feverishly, we began to write. Once the ideas reached the wall, the respective authors read their ideas and pitched their importance. In some cases, we strategized and combined two or three related topics, eager to draw the largest discussion group.
We were participating in what is known as Open Space, an organizational brainstorming tool introduced in 1982 by Harrison Owen and David Belisle. Their idea: to “open the space” for partakers to congregate on issues most important to them, rather than responding to a traditional top-down agenda.
For us, Open Space was the vehicle, but more important was the objective: to agitate, to leave our comfort zones, to support civil disagreement and seek potential solutions. Our rules were simple and few: no interruptions. Raise your hand if you want to interject.
“Part of the problem in today’s political and public discourse is no one wants to listen,”
one of the organizers said. “It’s why Facebook and Twitter are so popular: You write whatever you want and you decide who can and cannot read your posts.”
“If you want to truly grow, you need to hear the other view or views,” another organizer said. “You need to be with people who are not like you, who don’t live like you, but instead who have entirely different experiences.”
We talked about the role of religion in a secular society, the Trump-Clinton political imbroglio, racial (in)equality, the Middle East and much more.
On breaks, many of us broke into groups, sharing our life stories and seeking to understand how our past has shaped our views.
It was arguably the most disturbing and exhilarating experience of my adult life. Some ideas and beliefs were so incongruent to my own thinking. And yet that was the beauty: to strain to understand. In some cases, we were able to find common stepping stones. In others, we listened intently, debated passionately and walked away in disagreement.
“Our goal is not to have everyone think the same or to even find common ground,” one of the organizers said. “It’s to build respect and to learn to disagree respectfully.”
In the state of New Jersey, a governor (as of mid-October) claimed he knew nothing about a bridge scandal, even as his innermost circle had resigned, pled guilty or faced trial for carrying out a political vendetta.
In sports, we’ve taken to the airwaves to laud or rail against athletes refusing to stand for the national anthem in protest to what they see as systemic racial inequality.
These cases have two nefarious symptoms:
- The bubble: Don’t let anyone get in the way of your goals, whether they be financial or political.
- One view: Of course my opinion is the right one, and to prove it, I listen to talk shows and newspaper columns that agree with me.
Imagine if our families or businesses operated this way. There is only one way to go from here to there. There’s only one approach to raising my children. There is only one model for growing a thriving business, regardless of external conditions. There is only one experience in life that matters: mine.
What Open Spaces underscores is that to grow professionally and personally, we must be open to agitation.
Mitch Morrison is vice president and director of Winsight’s Retail Executive Platform. Reach him at mmorrison@winsightmedia.com.
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