Musings on Respect

[Ralph Copleman]

Hi,

Reflections on recent postings here.  Apologies for the length.

1.  We late-coming North Americans (non-aboriginal) have borrowed just about
everything.  And what we have not borrowed, we have stolen.  Sure, we
invented a few things of our own, e.g., pizza, jazz, and that strangest of
all creations, the football half-time show, but they don't add up to much .

Most of the time, we have had no idea what we were taking.  We only thought
our need for it was paramount, and that was (is) always enough
justification.  I think most of us mean no harm, but we have often done harm
just the same.  How did we get this way?  Beats the hell out of me.  And why
are we so often forgiven?  I don't know the answer to that one either,  but
it does seem to happen a lot.  Maybe other folks are waiting to see what
we'll do with what we take, because we have shown ourselves, on occasion, to
be pretty entertaining and clever.

I cannot believe anyone opening space would ever knowingly be disrespectful
of native cultures and practices.  And I think the people for whom we open
space will know that about us more often than not.

2.  What might be an analogous situation to a white (or black) North
American using a Native American talking stick in an open space meeting in
the US?     How about if I, a Jewish American, used a Hindu symbol as a
talking stick in a Japanese setting?  Suppose I told my Japanese clients
that the symbol I was employing represented community or togetherness or
some such thing, and that I learned this during a workshop I took with an
Anglican priest from Maryland, USA.  Truth is, I trust what Harrison has
said and seek to model the respect he invariably shows.  But what the hell
do I really know?  If I'm to stick to my own knitting, maybe I: a) use only
symbols out of my own tradition of whose meaning I am certain; b) have the
client choose a symbol, c) study Indian lore (or any other tradition that
attracts me) really well so that I know what I'm talking about, i.e. become
an expert, or d) use nothing.

3.  What's perceived as wrong almost always takes the perceiver to name it
so.  For example, if I did an open space gig for a Jewish congregation
somewhere and used a Star of David as the "power symbol", I think no one
would say boo.  But if a non-Jew did the same thing with the same group
without first asking permission, I guarantee  somebody would squawk.

Perhaps it has to do with permission, which is, after all, showing respect.

4.  I think I take open space a little less solemnly than many of you seem
to do.  Open space is different space, for sure, and seems somehow more
delicate to many of us on this list.  And yes, it's way more than a meeting
technique, but I'm not certain the "space" I am privileged to "open" is any
more special or sacred than any other place or time, and I may not want to
treat it that way.

5.  Personally I'd rather let go of space than "hold" it.  I'd rather
encourage people "in" it to bend, twist, tear and stretch it, run rings
around it, stomp on it, make new shapes out of it, and conduct all kinds of
experiments on it.  I think we have shown again and again it will withstand
all sorts of attacks and attempts to disrupt it in the name of
machine-model-of-the-system thinking.  It isn't going to break.

6.  Of course, it isn't literal space we're dealing with.  It's people and
spirit.  Opening space is for me an act of showing respect for those who
participate "in" the space.  I cannot think of a better way to show my
respect than to get out of the way and let them (and spirit) do and be as
they see fit.  So, when Harrison suggests we keep looking for pieces to
throw out (i.e. less is more), I take this to heart.

So, tomorrow, for my one-day open space event for the research arm of a
pharmaceutical company, there will be no "talking stick" or "power symbol"
at the closing.  I'll just explain how the circle "works" and let it go.  Or
maybe I'll just stay in my seat and ask if anyone has anything to say in the
time we have left.  I don't know.  I'll see what happens when I get to that
point.  If I decide I need a device, well I usually carry a nerf ball with
me.

7.  But not doing things ­ taking stuff away ­  and doing less means I may
miss some opportunities to lend some real help.  I am an experienced
consultant after all, and they pay me to let them know the truth as I see it
and to help.  How do I give them what I have if I do not fulfill the ritual
with a modicum of structure and maybe some spirit borrowed from a loving
tradition not their own?  How, indeed?

8.  I'm allergic to alcohol and, therefore, I'll never have a two-martini
inspiration.  I'm hoping I'll have my own inspirational breakthrough some
day, and I'm further hoping the secret lies somewhere other than the booze.
So, I have to know, Harrison, do you take cherries with yours, or olives, or
one of those little pearl onions?

Or maybe it's in the toothpick?

Ralph Copleman