When To Rat

The past week has had some bumps in the road of life. For example, it turns out the kitchen sink that finally arrived won’t fit in the cabinet. This matters because we cannot have the countertop measured and then made (a process that will take 4 - 6 weeks) until there is an installed sink.

The Sink Saga has been almost comical — a transit snafu and then misunderstandings about the sink has already delayed countertop measuring three different times.

Ugh.

Yesterday, as we learned of yet another episode in the Sink Saga, Dear Husband noted that he was impressed at how well I handle such things. Instead of getting irate and frustrated, I am sanguine about it all.

Nobody intended to create the Sink Saga, after all.

On the other hand, an IT Person scolds me (unfairly!) in front of my class and I had a meeting with the Head of IT within the day.

Huh.

What is the difference?

I pondered that because pondering is one of my rare talents (or more likely, one of my many annoying habits).

What I decided is that I get fired up about stuff when it has the potential to hurt others if allowed to proceed unchecked.

The only people “injured” by the Sink Saga is us and it is just an inconvenience; that is a situation that calls for patience and the immediate application of Grace.

But when people behave badly such that it might hurt or disadvantage others — and we say nothing — we are giving them permission to continue on that path.

AND we become complicit through our silence — ACK!

Further, what if the person doesn’t know or understand how their behavior or choice is “landing” on others? Is it kind to just ignore it and let them go on to blunder and dig an even deeper hole?

I do not think so.

In fact, I think it is cowardly and unkind to close our eyes to things just because it is scary to confront them. After all, don’t we all want someone to tell us if we are walking around with our zipper down or spinach in our teeth?

And so I got an apology, which is less important to me than knowing more positive IT interactions are likely going forward.

Change is invited when we respectfully offer our experience and perspectives as information to be considered by others. They can still be an ass or cheater if they want, but at least they will be a more informed ass or cheater — and I won’t be complicit through my silence.

So there you go. Do things that will potentially hurt or disadvantage others and your secret is not safe with me.

Be a human and make a mistake that delays my kitchen — oh well. It Happens…

…in Life with Dogs, and Life with Humans.

Answer to My Daughter by Way of My Father

Dear Daughter frequently wonders what strangeness of character allowed me — a high school drop-out with two kids by age 20 — to march off to college and wind up with three degrees, including a Ph.D., from the University of California at Berkeley.

I have never really had a good answer.

Not only did I lack the skills one usually gets in high school college-prep courses, but I also consistently worked throughout my 13+ years of higher education, had multiple life-altering traumatic events along the way — and of course there were those small humans along for the adventure.

Nobody can accuse me of taking the educational easy route — that is for sure.

But I think I now have her answer, and it came from a snowy bike ride to work.

As I drove to the place where I would start my bike commute yesterday morning, I was talking to my dad on the phone. I explained that it was snowing but that I was going to be riding anyway.

There are so many things he could have said.

“Be careful.”

“Won’t it be icy?”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Let me know when you arrive so I won’t worry about you.”

“Why don’t you just drive all the way in today?”

He said none of those things.

Instead, he told me to stick out my tongue and catch some snowflakes. Seriously. That was his response. Catch snowflakes with my tongue.

And with that simple and whimsical statement, I am finally able to answer Dear Daughter’s question.

As I rode my bike and reflected on my dad’s response, I realized that throughout my life his response to every whacky or unrealistic idea I came up with was along those same lines — stick out your tongue and catch some snowflakes.

My father believes in me — and he always has. I cannot remember a time when he tried to instill doubt in my mind about my ideas, decisions, or plans.

Not at all.

And by doing that — by always trusting and believing in me — my dad taught me to be bold, and to believe in myself.

What an amazing gift.

And that, Dear Daughter, is the answer to your question.

I marched off to a major university — ill-prepared and with two kids in tow — because your grandfather told me to catch snowflakes instead of reminding me to be careful.

It really is that simple. And amazing.

Blowing Up the Messenger

It happens every semester - you would think I would be used to it by now.

Students irate when I do my job. Specifically, when I inform them via a grade and comments that their assignment wasn’t actually amazing.

“I always get A’s on my papers.” “Your instructions were not good.” “I am an A student.” “My other professors give me A’s on my papers.” Repeat.

It is hard to hear Unflattering Truth.

I so get it. Truly I do.

If “I am a 4.0 student” understands unflattering feedback as truth, how can he maintain his personal narrative — his very identity — about himself as a student?

He can’t.

And that leaves two options:

1. It is the professor’s fault (WTH does she know?!); OR,

2. I have things to learn.

One might say that presence at a university assumes one knows there are things to learn, but apparently not.

Therefore, Option #1 is the logical choice (!).

Huh.

Humans are so interesting.

And now, Dear Reader, please make a slight substitution — after all, this is a blog about Life — with Dogs.

When a dog does not provide the feedback that we are an amazingly awesome trainer/handler/person/everything by turning in an A+ performance, we have two options:

1. It is the dog’s fault; OR,

2. I have things to learn.

Yep.

The dog’s performance is your grade as a trainer/handler.

Blame the dog and you never get better.

(Important and Relevant Note: Consider bad grades and other human misadventures as evidence that you have not yet died and therefore are still an imperfect human being living on earth with similarly imperfect human beings [and really amazing dogs]. Given that it was just the 36th Anniversary of my mom’s untimely death at age 45 — allow me to say this about that: Lucky Imperfect You!).

There are, of course, other ways to get a desired grade.

A few years back one student decided the way to get a good grade was to buy a paper from an internet site and submit it as her own — in my ETHICS CLASS.

That did not go well.

Sometimes cheating does result in a good grade on an assignment or canine performance. But then you have to live with the knowledge that you are a fraud, an imposter — and basically just a lousy human being.

But change is possible!

Don’t despair!

You — the collective you including me — CAN be a real A+ student or trainer or human (or preferably — all of those).

How?

Just take the C- this time and embrace Option #2.

You will be transformed.

I promise.