20,000 feet Thoughts
I’m on a plane flying to Chicago. Consistent with everything else in 2021, final exams will be remote, so I’m enroute to move my daughter out of college. Ironic for a trip to the “Windy City,” today there are high wind warnings in Washington, DC. The captain warns us the ride will be turbulent. The pitching and g-forces on our initial climb pull my stomach reminding me of why I hate roller coasters. For a moment, I have a hideous flash that the plane will dive into the ground. Do you ever get that? A sudden image of doom in your mind and for a second, you’re not sure if it’s a premonition or an irrational fear. As quickly as that image fades, another one plays in my head like a projector.
Many years ago, I flying home from business meetings in Atlanta. There was a ferocious rainstorm. The plane suspended all service. Flight attendants were ordered to their seats. Lighting flashed. Rain streaked across the windows. The turbulence was so strong, it felt like the plane was riding the waves in a rough sea. I was sure we were about to die. I tried to stay calm, but was freaking out. Travel was hard. I was working in advertising for the Los Angeles Times, based in DC with a national territory. Presentations in different cities across the United States was stressful and I suffered from a serious case of imposter syndrome. That night, an older Black woman was sitting next to me. We were talking sporadically about the storm and delays and how bad the turbulence was. At some point, she asked me if I wanted to hold her hand. I grabbed that woman like she was a life raft. My memory is that we held hands until the plane screeched into a halt at Washington’s National Airport. We may have even prayed. I haven’t thought about that in years. Not until this mornings’ rough ride.
Last week, former police officer Derek Chauven was found guilty for the murder of George Floyd. I didn’t watch the 9 minute video of Chauven kneeling the life out of George Floyd’s neck. I didn’t watch the trial. I’m old enough to remember the Rodney King riots that burned Los Angels and the racial divide of the OJ Simpson case. I was relieved when the jury found this corrupt cop guilty.
Growing up I was so lucky to know people from different places. My father, a physician, had a lot of friends from work who were from India and Pakistan. His practice was in Trenton and his patients represented different races and cultures. We’re tribal in nature. Studies consistently show that meeting people from different races, faiths, cultures, etc reduces fear and increase levels of compassion. Or in other words, if you grow up surrounded by people who look like you and believe what you believe, you’re more likely to discriminate against them.
Kelli Taylor runs an incredible organization, Free Minds. To oversimplify, her book club works with prisoners on literacy, expression and channeling their emotions. She and her work changes lives. Frequently, she will host a reading, inviting people to read and comment on the poems and stories written by these incarcerated, mostly Black men. After reading one powerful poem, my then 14-year-old-son Matthew jotted down a quick, but encouraging note about how much he enjoyed the work. We were not prepared for the gorgeous note that the author sent back to Matthew through Kelli. The correspondence beautifully connected two very different people. It also crystallized how life changing parenting, education and economics are; and that a stupid, split decision can completely upend your future.
The CEO of an American engineering firm casually remarked to me on day how much he enjoyed working with Qatar. The small nation in the Middle East is not only one of our most important allies in the region, they also boast one of the most educated workforce’s with nearly 60% of women with Masters degrees or higher.
Women approach problem solving differently than men. Having men and women work on projects helps us deliver better solutions for our clients.
That idea stuck with me. Different points of view help us look differently at problems which leads to better solutions. And, this was years after I wrote the line, Differences make us special, and that’s what makes us strong line in the Belly Button Book.
If we all embraced this simplified approach, maybe we could better tackle tough problems of climate change, food/water security, social issues, education…the list is long. Maybe we could start by holding someone’s hand.
