Holding Multiple Perspectives

This sign was in my father’s office when I was a kid. I remember reading it over and over, trying to parse out just exactly what it meant. Then I took it to heart. I memorized it and thought I was pithy when I repeated it back to people who I decided just didn’t understand me. Looking back, I realize that this was my introduction to the concept of multiple interpretations.  

My dad loved language. He was a minister and a poet. He was also very attuned to the fact that his congregation would interpret his sermons in as many ways as there were people in the pews. He loved to preach about the original meaning of words and how the meaning has shifted, intentionally and unintentionally, over the years and with new context. These were my favorite concepts to learn, and my siblings and I all inherited the love of language. 

This love of language started my fascination with the many ways people interpret a simple email or sentence. I started using my favorite aphorism “In the absence of information, people make $@#* up”! I use this as a warning to remind people that, until you inquire, you never know how words land. If I get up in the morning on the wrong side of the bed and read a simple email, I may interpret it through the filter of my anger and immediately react in a negative way. At the same time, if I’m having a great day, a poorly written or terse email won’t bother me, and I will tend to give the writer the benefit of the doubt.  

The same happens with conversations, although the physical clues in a conversation help alleviate some of the uncertainty. Because of this, I often lean toward my good friend (and project teammate) Dan Leahy’s favorite phrase “so the story I’m telling myself is…”. This reminds me that I am interpreting information and lets the person I’m talking to know that I recognize that my interpretation may not be what the person meant. 

Over the summer, I encourage you to join me in practicing looking for multiple interpretations of messages and comments that trigger a strong emotion in you. What is the story you are telling yourself? What other interpretations might you make and how might you ask yourself what that person actually meant. Language can be amazing and complex. I invite you to play with it and see what you can learn about yourself and others. 

From the Desk of Jeni Craswell