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Corporate Kool-Aid - PR and Marketing specifically geared towards imprinting the corporate culture and brand as a positive mindset and way of life. In the most successful cases, this is done in such a way that the individual who has "drunk the corporate kool-aid" will, outside of work and uncompensated, serve as a willing and engaged corporate spokesperson, advocating and promoting the corporation's stated views and agenda as a True Believer.
When the people who work for an organization, within a work group, or on a project team commit themselves in enthusiastic harmony to achieve measurably excellent results, we often say of them "Wow! They really drank the Kool-Aid!"
It isn't the actual soft drink we're talking about, of course. Since it's first (terrible) use as such in 1978, "drinking the Kool-Aid," in the corporate sense, has evolved into a broad metaphor for that magical moment when people become energized by and engaged in their work, aligned with the goals they share, and hungry to claim the bragging rights that come with a scorecard full of real, tangible accomplishments.
Engagement, alignment, execution - using two simple recipes, you can custom-mix your own unique batch of "Corporate Kool-Aid" from these four basic flavors:
People who feel they just can't know enough about something, who gather and relish the tiniest details to master a particular body of knowledge, who pride themselves in crossing the t's and dotting the i's and getting everything exactly right... they tend to favor the Cool Blue "Smart Expert" brand flavor of Corporate Kool-Aid.
People who like to get to the point, who enjoy formulating a clear vision of what "done" will look like and then get to work scheduling, tracking, and driving it into existence... these folks prefer the sharp Red "Take Charge" Kool-Aid brand flavor.
People who enjoy rallying the troops, imaginative people who take pride in preparing and presenting innovative ideas in exciting, motivating ways... these people prefer the energizing Yellow "Exciting Party" brand flavor.
People who seek consensus, foster harmonious professional relationships and communities, value fairness, respect tradition, honor and follow the rules... these people prefer the smooth Green "Trusty Partner" brand flavor.
So, what's your personal Kool-Aid brand flavor?
From the point of view of your workplace role or job, read the following descriptions and rank each from 1 to 4, where you feel you most identify with your #1 choice and least identify with your #4 choice.
Fill in your personal Kool-Aid brand flavor recipe card with two scoops of your #1 choice plus one scoop of your #2 choice:
Organizations are people, too. Successfully aligned groups, from the smallest teams to entire companies, define themselves by exhibiting a collective style of behavior that clearly expresses their shared values, beliefs, and sense of mission.
Take a moment to study this table of 16 example organizations.
Starting with the four representative organizations in the upper left (Blue) quadrant of the table, MIT (1), Google (2), the Global Governance Institute (5), and Bloomberg TV (6), all share a general mission of research and knowledge, but each approaches it in a unique way:
Take a look at the example organizations (3, 4, 7, and 8) in the upper right (Red) quadrant:
Consider the example organizations (11, 12, 15, and 16) in the lower right (Yellow) quadrant.
Finally, think about the example organizations (9, 10, 13, and 14) in the lower left (Green) quadrant.
So, what's your company's brand Kool-Aid flavor? From these 16 examples, select one and only one company that you believe most closely represents the "brand" of your company.
Having trouble? Can't decide between two, or maybe even from among three or more?
That's a problem. The leaders of successful companies all agree on the particular Kool-Aid brand flavor of the organizations they run, and they do such a great job communicating this aligned brand promise that, in exercises like this one, 85%+ of the people who work within, buy from, or are served by those organizations pick the same or an immediately adjacent (very similar) company.
So, leaders: take your time, think deeply and carefully about this, talk it over and come to a consensus. Once you, your partners, your Board, and your executive team completely agree on your organization's one specific brand of Corporate Kool Aid, mix and drink a big batch by selecting your recipe from this table:
Congratulations. That's the recipe for your organization's one and only Kool Aid Brand flavor. Make a habit of drinking it, your brand will come through in your words and deeds, and, before long, your customers and the people who work for you will develop a taste for it, too.
Assume a virtue if you have it not. - Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act III Scene 4
From now on, you'll be using your two recipes, your personal and company Kool-Aid flavors, to brew two big pitchers. Here's how I make mine:
I'm the kind of guy who seeks attention, loves to jump to the front of a room and draw engaging pictures that attract attention and communicate interesting ideas, but with the ultimate goal of getting everyone on the same page and working together toward some goal.
That's mostly Yellow with some Red, so I use two scoops of Yellow and one scoop of Red to mix my personal brand pitcher of Kool-Aid.
Working with my partners, I help deliver a service that applies the findings of behavioral research (Blue) to align and engage teams of people in a specialized process of informed self-discovery (...with some Yellow). So, closest to our example of Bloomberg TV, it takes two scoops of Blue and one scoop of Yellow to mix my company's Brand of Kool-Aid.
That's my Kool-Aid Diet. I build positive energy by drinking a full glass of my Personal Kool-Aid Brand early in the morning: that is, I start my day recognizing and celebrating my motivational Yellow and get-er-done Red strengths.
When I get to work, I drink a full glass of my Company Kool-Aid Brand: that is, I tone down my instincts to overtly influence (Yellow) and directly supervise (Red) my clients as I dial up my respect for the knowledge base foundation of my work (a healthy dose of Blue...) and reinforce my faith that, properly organized and carefully presented, this information will lead my clients to a positive and transformative conclusion (...plus a little Yellow).
My partners and colleagues are drinking the same stuff and willingly making similar adaptations. So, as I work with them during the business day, I'm effectively helping myself to a couple more reinforcing big doses of the Company Kool-Aid, and this Kool-Aid effect is doubled when, as a result, we rack up a shared success.
We just love it when our customers - and especially our competitors - say: "Wow! They really drank the Kool-Aid."
_____________________________
Al presents the Corporate Kool-Aid Cookbook (in one-hour interactive lecture and three-hour workshop formats) for various organizations, including Vistage International. If you're interested in scheduling a presentation for your company or organization, contact him at al.cini@teamperformanceworkout.com.
Elaborating on these simple "Kool-Aid" principals in his role as Facilitator at Onward Education and Training, Al combines accepted behavioral science with uniquely effective coaching and improvement techniques to deliver the Team Performance Workout program, which engages and aligns groups or teams and shifts their focus from merely "doing things" to actually getting things done.
"I think if I could have seen the shore, I would have made it."
In the Summer of 1952, Florence May Chadwick set off to swim the 26 miles of ocean that stretches from the coast of California to Catalina Island. After about 15 hours, a thick fog rolled in. She swam for another hour before, unable to see the shore, she gave up and asked to be pulled into one of the support boats that flanked her.
She later learned that she quit just one mile from her goal.
Florence tried again two months later, and, again, a thick fog set in.
But this time she kept going and made it, she later said, by keeping a mental image of the shore in her mind.
"The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision." - Helen Keller
- Helen Keller
Thanks to friend and partner Ric McNally for pointing me to this lesson.
I remember playing outside my home one bright summer morning, a happy little kid running around happily with all of my happy little friends, when my parents approached me with a proposition.
“We're going to the Beach today!” they pronounced through broad smiles.
I was only five years old, had no idea what “the Beach” was, and, besides, I was having a grand time with my friends in our yard, so I politely passed on the opportunity and kept playing.
That's when my parents pulled out their PowerPoint slides.
The Beach Water! As far as the eye can see You can walk or swim in it You'll be completely safe We'll hold your hand We won't let go Sand! As much as you want You can dig holes in it as deep as you like We'll even let you bury us in it Candy and Ice Cream! Amusement Rides!
The Beach
OK, ok, I was sold. I sent my friends home, climbed into the car with my parents, and off we went.
And went, and went, and went. When you're only five years old, a couple of hours trapped in a car is a very significant percentage of your life to date.
So, peering ahead through the windshield, straining to see as far up the road as I could, I tried to spot this Beach I'd been sold. I'd see a house in the dim distance, or a tall tree, and I'd figure Wow! That must be the Beach! A few minutes later, though, we'd motor right past it, so I'd ask:
“Are we there yet?”
At first, my parents would smile and explain that the Beach was farther away, but that we'd be there soon.
So, I looked ahead again as far as I could see, and spotted a telephone pole, or an office building, and figured, “well, then that thing surely must be the Beach.” But we'd drive past it a few minutes later, and I'd ask again if we were there yet, and my parents would repeat, through thinner smiles this time, that the beach was farther away and we'd be there soon.
Our collective patience waned pretty quickly as I asked over and over, until finally, typical salespeople, they ordered me to stop asking and suggested I take a nap.
I woke up as we finally made it to the Beach, which was very hot, and very crowded, with impossibly long lines of sunburned tourists trailing up far ahead of us to every amusement ride. Yes, there was plenty of water, but it was dirty and cold and rough and full of strange people. Yes, there was plenty of sand everywhere, including in my ice cream, on my candy, and especially in my bathing suit and sneakers.
Covered in greasy sunscreen and toasted in the spots we missed, we packed up after a few hours and headed silently back home in our car. As the Beach faded in our rear-view mirror, I put the whole miserable experience out of my mind. Until I grew up.
My professional life sometimes feels like my childhood trip to the Beach. People are selling me the Future all the time, a Future filled with wonderful products and services, a marvelous place where everything works and everyone's happy. We're off to “The Beach!”
It's a bumpy ride, though, so be sure to buckle up.
Questions
"Everything happens for a reason. It is what it is. Whatever will be, will be. Accidents happen."
Sound familiar? They're all common, everyday variations of Murphy's Law: "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong." If you're like most people, you probably drop plenty of phrases like these in casual conversation without thinking much about them.
But let's think about them.
Murphy's Law actually says a lot more about your subjective mental state than your objective situation. It's a way to cope with a very human feeling that, like most people, you hate admitting in yourself as much as you perhaps enjoy celebrating in others: blame. Blame hurts, and that can trigger your instinct to deny facts and rewrite your history
The term "cognitive bias" refers to a family of such coping mechanisms, which are illogical tendencies to custom-tailor reality to better suit your ego. This particular flavor of cognitive bias, claiming personal credit for your successes while attributing your failures to factors beyond your control, is called the self-serving bias. By filtering out inconvenient truths, your self-serving bias helps you to artificially elevate your self-esteem, which, by avoiding the pain of blame for a failure and/or triggering the ego boost that goes with claiming credit for a success, reinforces your biased behavior.
Part of your self-preservation mechanism, your brain is wired to try to control your future, or at least to anticipate and prepare you for it. Therein lies the psychological difference between a promise and a prediction. Your promises commit you to outcomes while your predictions merely involve you in events. A particularly stressful complex of feelings and behaviors, blame happens when things don't turn out as you said they would.
Looking back on a disappointment, did you promise that outcome? Or did you just predict it? Cop to the former and, ouch! You take the blame. On the other hand, if you can somehow pretend to the latter, you can deflect the blame onto your imaginary friend "Murphy."
You learned this as a school child when you promised your English teacher you'd hand her an essay on Friday morning but, OMG! Unpredictably, your dog ate the only copy Thursday night. Can she please give you the weekend to write it again? What did your English teacher teach you when she said Yes?
You grew up and got better at it. One day, as a sales manager, you painted two pretty pictures of the future for your boss: 1) sales for the fourth quarter will be up 15% over last year; and 2) you'll organize the year-end company picnic, which will be held on June 30.
The sun shone bright on the picnic that June 30, but Q4 sales were down 6% from last year. Those blown figures? Well, considering the thin support you got from Marketing, the crappy product design, and a lousy economy, you and your team actually rescued the company by limiting the decline to just 6%. And, hey! Didn't you pick the perfect day for the company picnic?
According to Daniel Pink, author of Drive, you can't buy employee engagement. In fact, when it comes to encouraging people to work hard on brainpower tasks that require broad creativity or focused problem-solving, cash incentives can be more of a de-motivator than a motivator.
Don't believe me? Take ten minutes to watch this enlightening video.
“Bottom line: If we treat people like people, instead of like horses…”
Instead of inspiring excellence, extrinsic monetary rewards can actually discourage excellent work. Research shows that, if you don't pay people enough, they'll feel "ripped off" and stop contributing. On the other hand, if you pay them too much, they can feel they're just the "Flavor of the Day" in an unfair system that's probably ripping other people off and, you guessed it, they'll stop contributing.
First of all, to take money matters off the table and empower your people to focus on their work, your compensation plan needs to be perceived as 1) sufficiently generous and 2) fairly administered. So much for dangling the Almighty Dollar, huh?
Which, according to Pink, leaves you with three behavioral tools that can really pay off in improved performance:
Questions:
People generally think that [harmonious] teams... are better and more productive. But in a study we conducted..., we actually found [that] the cause-and-effect is the reverse of what most people believe: When we're productive and we've done something good together (and are recognized for it), we feel satisfied, not the other way around.
As they work together on a team, people reflexively form subjective, inaccurate impressions about each other. They may perceive threat in a peer's raised voice. They may feel unfairly treated by a leader who seems to smile and joke comfortably with some of their teammates but rarely with them. Result: team members whose interactions with their peers will be aimed at minimizing their personal perception of threat and stress rather than cooperating on accomplishing shared objectives.
Solution: Level the playing field. Give everyone a simple, common behavioral frame of reference for understanding themselves and each other.
In our Team Performance Workout, we use a simple, cost-efficient assessment based on the well-known DISC behavioral model, coupled with a one-hour, personalized coaching session, to level the playing field for a team.
Regardless of their seniority, technical expertise, or position in the organization, nobody ever wins or loses on this behavioral field of play. Based on their personal behavioral style, everyone has unique talents they can choose to contribute, as well as challenges they can work to overcome. In this exercise, where everyone's equal, each individual team member feels safe enough to invest the kind of mutual empathy and respect that can really pay off later in improved team performance.
You can approximate this insightful experience with your team by using the DISC system's four behavioral styles (click to enlarge the image):
Liz is a Natural D (not like a "Mr. Scott") who adapts toward I (like a "Dr. McCoy") at work by becoming less assertive and more expressive and outgoing.
“God doesn't play dice with the Universe.” Thus tweeted the Great Albert Einstein in 1926. And ever since folks have been retweeting his profound revelation about God, straight from the Gospel According to Albert.
Problem is, Einstein didn't exactly say that. Here's what the man actually wrote, in a letter to pioneering quantum physicist Max Born:
“Quantum mechanics is certainly imposing. But an inner voice tells me that it is not yet the real thing. The theory says a lot, but does not really bring us any closer to the secret of the 'old one'. I, at any rate, am convinced that He does not throw dice.”
Turns out Einstein, who by 1926 had earned copious major honors for revealing the architecture of the Cosmic Universe at Large, wasn't really referring to God in his letter at all. The Great Genius was, in fact, confessing his own difficulty in grasping the basic architecture of the Quantum Universe of the Very Small. Biased, perhaps, by his subjective familiarity with a personal Almighty, Albert's “inner voice” had misinformed his perception of the nature of reality's littlest things.
Back in 1926, Einstein strongly believed that randomness in scientific observations resulted from human imperfection in observing and understanding. Make perfect the instruments and sharpen the theory, he figured, and, poof! like a god, you know everything, and can therefore predict the cosmically enormous set of all possible future events, even the very tiniest ones, with 100% certainty.
This Determinist Einstein just couldn't accept what his contemporary particle physicists were demonstrating over and over again in their labs. Where certain behaviors of really little things like electrons and photons are concerned, no matter how smart the physicist or perfect her instruments, making certain kinds of predictions about the outcomes of certain quantum phenomena are, well, just plain uncertain.
So, in his oft-paraphrased and widely misunderstood 1926 letter, the Great Albert Einstein was, duh! just plain wrong – at least about quantum physics, and perhaps even about God, Who may indeed have some sort of Supreme Gambling Problem.
Wait! Don't stop reading. If you're a modern business leader, this story has everything to do with you.
Today's business leaders, of projects and of people, emerge from a fundamentally deterministic management culture wherein every action is believed to have a 100% predictable outcome. This certain world, of course, has its unexpected bugs and breakdowns, but the reliable solution is always process: time-proven repertoires of clearly documented procedures that mitigate the risks of a fault by rigorously squeezing out its pesky uncertainty. “After all,” our inner voice reasons, “aren't people really just like machines?”
The conclusion sounds right, but it's dead-wrong. Unlike machines, people, cursed as they are with Free Will, behave like quantum particles in fundamentally unpredictable ways. Psychologists have long recognized a “Human Uncertainty Principle” of sorts: the more confined people feel by the processes their leaders impose on them, the less predictable their organizational behavior becomes. Business leaders see process as governance, but those so governed often perceive it as tyranny. Especially in the most talented and creative, tyranny triggers rebellion rather than compliance.
Frustrated by process, followers find creative ways to avoid following their leaders. In turn, their leaders, dismissing these little mutinies as failures of their Human machines, sharpen their procedures to tighten the harness and regain control, which only provokes further mutiny. As leaders lend greater and greater weight to following process in order to reduce the degrees of freedom for failure in the groups they manage, they unwittingly generate a psychological “black hole” that ensnares all chances of success as well. Individual efforts stall, projects slip, and neglected infrastructure eventually sputters and fails.
Of course, process certainly plays a role in effective management, but it can't guarantee effective leadership. Go here and begin learning about the non-deterministic, Zen-like principles of Servant-Leadership: that the true path to leading people starts with serving them; that the most effective way to shepherd their efforts is to set them free.
When you come back from reading, try this new kind of “Non-Process” on for size in 2014:
Step 1. Accept intellectually that people behave in non-deterministic ways which necessarily limit your ability to govern their actions.
Step 2. Once you've accepted the basic uncertainty of human behavior, you will naturally begin to question your feelings about your colleagues and subordinates. This fresh uncertainty, while uncomfortable at first, is very healthy. Let it teach you:
Step 3. Beyond articulating the details of tasks, your transcendent role as a leader is to reveal the human value of the larger goals you choose to serve.
Step 4. Once the human value of your organization's goals have been revealed to them, people will drop the heavy baggage of their personal egos and begin to gravitate toward helping you to achieve them. Remember that they aren't following you as a leader; they're following your lead toward something more important than each and all of you. Congratulations! By tapping the source of authentic leadership, you've entered the larger world of the Servant-Leader.
Step 5. Never, ever play favorites. Everyone has value, whether you like them personally or not. Treat everyone with respect and, as you support them, they'll all work hard with you, each in their own wonderfully different way, to help you achieve your organization's goals. (Remember that, on the other hand, you cheapen the work you're trying to inspire when you treat it like a win-lose game. You may think you're being clever, but you undermine your own leadership in the long run when you “play” people for short-term gain.)
Step 6. Full- or part-time employee, contractor, consultant, whatever --everybody's somebody. Be prepared to recognize everyone for the value of their contributions, regardless of what's printed on their business cards.
Step 7. Every organization needs its “operators,” the go-to-guys, the t-crossing and i-dotting detail-oriented folks who devise and follow effective processes. But beware the hidden trap of settling for the merely routine and declaring it “excellence.” Excellence is something more.
Which prompts the most important of questions for any organization or society: what is Excellence?
Is dancing purely a matter of process? Does clear and precise choreography determine the quality of a dance performance? Does putting your feet exactly where and when you're told make you a dancer? Will carefully following a really precise floor chart make you an excellent dancer?
Dancing, especially good dancing, transcends choreography. Excellent dancers exceed the specifications of choreography. They amaze an audience, and pleasantly surprise their choreographer, as they freely capture and ride the spirit of a performance.
Likewise, in all the work we humans do, how can excellence possibly emerge from simply following a process? Can a really good paint-by-numbers Mona Lisa elevate anyone to the level of a DaVinci?
Following process and meeting expectations is adequacy, and adequacy is virtuous. Adequacy has its place.
But excellence is more. Excellence is the miracle of exceeding expectations. Perhaps because we fear failing to repeat it, we sometimes tend to mistrust excellence. So, we shy away from it, perhaps most often by withholding, from ourselves and others, the freedom on which excellence feeds, which it needs to survive.
Here's where old Albert, after nearly a lifetime of saying his share of dumb things, got one absolutely right (Out Of My Later Years, 1950):
“Everything that is really great and inspiring is created by the individual who can labor in freedom.”
Growing up, as I recall, the otherwise festive Christmas holiday season held forth the dreadful prospect of wrestling with a box full of Christmas tree lights.
Ignoring the fact that it's cheaper and easier to replace them each year, perhaps as a matter of honor and tradition, it had become my family's policy that no new tree lights would be purchased until every attempt had been made to untangle and revive the old ones.
In keeping this tradition, I found myself in the same familiar mess every year as I set out to decorate our house with lights. No matter how carefully I may have coiled and packed them away at the end of the previous year, the many separate strands of lights seemed somehow to have found each other during the off-season and hopelessly entangled themselves. This made me angry, as though they'd deliberately, even spitefully, knotted themselves into a perplexing mass of bulbs, plugs, sockets, and wires.
So, as punishment every year, I dealt with them the same traditional way. I shook them vigorously, hoping somehow that the individual strings of lights would repent and separate themselves from each other. When they didn't, I dived aggressively into the middle of the knot, pulled at it from within, stretched it, embraced its confusion and became a part of it. Eventually, one by one, each string of Christmas lights would somehow drop away from the others, until, at last, mission accomplished! But the achievement was always more by accident than design, and never without my fair share of pain.
Still, primates being what they are, even the tiniest and rarest success will strongly reinforce habitual behavior, the bad habits as well as the good. As I looked with pride at the untangled lights, each individual strand now laying on the floor vanquished and submissive (a few literally broken as well), next year's application of the mindless “shake and hope” method, notwithstanding its obvious stupidity, had been assured.
Breaking with tradition is never comfortable, but, one year, for a change, I deliberately calmed myself down and thought about the problem first. I reasoned that, in years past, I had concentrated too hard on the problem's most obvious in-your-face aspect, that infuriating knot of bulbs and wire. In anger, I had traditionally attacked it, literally, from the inside. This may have felt good, but it got me nowhere. After a lot of shaking and complaining, the problem eventually solved itself, but the solution always took longer, and broke a lot more light bulbs, than it needed to. Looking back, my “tradition” was really just the bad habit of injecting energy blindly into a confused situation, hoping for the best. Eventually, when a solution finally presented itself, it was only at random. A paint shaker could have done as well.
That year, a little deliberation made all the difference. Knots, I reasoned, are best untied from the outside, by first finding the parts of each string that aren't in the knot, the ends, the terminal sockets and plugs of each separate strand. One by one, I found and threaded the ends out of the knot. Gradually, the un-knotted ends became longer and longer, as the knot ─ my problem ─ became smaller and smaller, until, eventually, it was gone.
It was tedious and a little boring pulling those ends out of the knot one at a time. Emotionally, this new approach was less satisfying than shaking and tugging at the knot until it finally learned its lesson and fell loose. Still, for achieving predictable results economically, the systematic start-with-the-ends approach beat my traditional flailing-away-at-the knot method hands-down.
Questions to Consider
Things to Do
Once upon a time, hoping that they might learn about colors while haing some fun, the parents of young twins gave each a coloring book, “My Day at the Zoo,” and a big box of crayons. Working separately for many hours, the twins eagerly decorated the many black-outlined animal drawings in their books.
The Operator
At the end of the day, the first twin, beaming with pride, returned her finished book to her parents. She had colored the elephants a precise elephant gray, the horses in various shades of horse-brown, and the birds in many different and very bird-appropriate pastel hues. She had colored every animal picture in her book with obvious care, accurately, smoothly, and consistently, exactly within and never outside of its printed borders.
“What color is this?” the parents asked while pointing to the perfectly colored picture of a canary perched on the branch of a tree. The first twin proudly announced “Yellow!” “And this?” the parents asked, pointing to the tree's branch. “Brown!” she replied. “And this?” they asked of the leaves on the branch. “Green!” said the child with a broad grin.
To her parents' delight, the first twin knew the proper names of every color in the crayon box, too, and even the exotic shades, like periwinkle and cerulean blue. She generalized what she had learned that day as well, correctly identifying the color of the kitchen's new drapes as carnation pink and Dad's necktie as puce. Her parents were very happy. As they had hoped she would, she had learned all about colors.
The Conceptualizer
A while later, the second twin returned with a scribbled-on book full of absurdly colored pictures of bright red lions and deep blue turtles. His baffled parents looked blankly at each other.
“What's this?” asked his parents tentatively, pointing to a purple dog.
“Cool huh?” replied the second twin. “I got that color by mixing the red crayon with the blue one.”
“And this?” asked the parents, pointing to an orange giraffe.
“That's the color you get when you mix the red one and the yellow one,” he replied.
Perplexed, his parents fell silent. Sensing their confusion, the second twin explained, “There are lots of colors in the crayon box, but, here, see?” Using the blue and yellow crayons, he scribbled a few lines across a picture of a cow. “See?” he said again, pointing to the color he had just made. “You can make every different color in the whole box by mixing different amounts of just a few basic colors.” In response to another long, silent stare from his parents, he prompted “See? I made green! Isn't that cool?”
But all his disappointed parents could see was a sloppily colored green cow. “Uh huh… that's… cool...” they muttered through thin smiles, as they silently pondered enrolling him in a Special School.
Encouraging Forests to Hide Among Their Trees
As we travel along our separate paths to professional enlightenment, our journeys' peripheral details tend to distract and even divert us. Not surprising, as, after all, aren't we taught from childhood that great recognition and material reward bloom from the carefully cultivated seeds of knowing the littlest details? A young child, like our first twin, praised by her parents for having just learned and recited the names of the colors of all the crayons in the box, naturally sets about discovering and memorizing the names of all the other colors in her world, too. Eventually, after years of being praised for committing shade after shade to memory, the child, now all grown up, can “ace” a standardized test consisting of multiple-choice name-the-color questions, perhaps to be officially declared a Certified Color Expert (CCE). More recognition, promotion, and material reward ensue, all further proving the value of mastering even the tiniest details.
Yet, aren't the roots of a deep awareness of the human experience of color, which had begun to sprout within the second twin, in the enlightened observation that each can be formed by mixing different amounts of the primary colors of red, green, and blue? Burnt umber's Red/Green/Blue coordinates, for example, are 138, 51, and 36. Likewise, every hue can be expressed as numeric coordinates along these three basic dimensions, and even more profound truths underlie this knowledge, in the physiology of the human eye, and in the physics of light. Perched on the verge of these revelations, with a little encouragement, perhaps the second twin would uncover the few basic laws that govern all these many details? Will his parents find the wisdom to “color” him outside the lines of their own expectations and encourage his quest? Will he brave disappointing his parents and harness the power of his own curiosity to urge himself along in his unorthodox, but more deeply true, pursuit of understanding?
Details, we must master them, but the Truth calls us from beyond them. It waits, masked, behind them. To reveal it, we must risk a deeper way of thinking. And more than merely tolerate it, we must actively encourage such thinking in others.
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