Appreciating Another’s Perspective

Nothing compares to a full-moon evening. The reflected light shining through the trees seems magical. But I bet you never considered the way we see the moon in the northern hemisphere is reversed to those in the southern hemisphere.

Check out the header image.

Reflection on this launched me into considering perspective. Experience, viewpoint, and situation alter what we see, how we feel, and who we are. And, as a society, we don’t respect perspective.

And I’m concerned. You should be, too.

For example, if you’ve never parented a child, who are you to give parental advice? Sure, you read all those books and you’ve been around kids and you watched videos or have some (useless) child psych classes under your belt. None of that replaces sleepless nights with a sick toddler. Or watching with an overwhelming panic and need to assert control as your baby boards that school bus that first day of school — or slides behind the wheel to drive that first time.

You can’t appreciate balancing love with discipline. You don’t know what it’s like to tell a part of you, no, you can’t have it, you can’t do it…. You also cannot appreciate the joys of parenting. The moment of those first steps. Or the third grade concert with your child on stage banging on a cymbal. That first peewee football game. Or the day the talent scout comes to his high school game. Her first poem. His first crush. It’s not like owning a pet, so don’t compare the roles. You do not have a chemical connection with a nephew. You do not have the perspective.

Years ago, when my sons were young and under my parental control, my brother would comment on how mean I was. How I was controlling. Unfair. Blah, blah. And I’d tell him: Wait until you have kids. Now? As he’s correcting his sons for whatever chaos they are attempting, he’ll shoot me a sheepish grin. I don’t need to say I told you so. He understands.

It’s all about perspective.

Consider it when watching your favorite team win or lose. Yeah, he dropped the ball. And you have a lot to say. Good for you.

Do you add salt to your food before tasting it? Another no-no. An experienced chef prepares a balanced dish. Taste first. Trust the experience.

You watch that favorite baking competition show and boast how you can do that. Maybe you can. If you’re a talented baker. Be honest and admit you probably can’t. Just go try to make perfect macarons. I dare you.

Because I, too, suffered from perspective disease. The time I baked my first batch of macarons, the shock at the mess I made far outlasted the trip those flat rocks took to get from the cookie sheet to the garbage pail. And I thought: Well, I thought it was easy. But I was wrong. Lack of perspective.

Did I give up? No. Did I blame the pan, the oven, the recipe? No. Did I complain? I’d like to say no. But I did as I poked at the pile of crap in the garbage. I thought it was easy. But that’s the point. My opinion, my perspective, was skewed. And then I searched for perspective. I watched talented bakers’ videos and read successful bakers’ blogs. I learned about temperature and mixing techniques.

And, now, after that study and years (years) of practice, my macarons impress.

Remember the last time you criticized another for artistic preferences? He or she likes a show or book or style of music that you don’t like. You feel compelled to show them the error of their ways. Take a breath. His or her life experience creates a perspective. Another may find a comic funny while you’re offended. Perspective. She loves opera. Perspective. He enjoys rock climbing. Perspective.

You don’t know why that driver is speeding. You have no clue why that barista was unfriendly. You can’t imagine why your neighbor has never introduced himself. You do not know.

Ever been hospitalized? Been truly ill? In chronic pain? Suffered an addiction or mental illness? If you haven’t, keep your opinion to yourself. It’s easy to judge another from outside a physical prison. The same applies for those lucky enough to have healthy genetics. To mock that overweight guy walking on a treadmill while you squat your four-hundred pounds is bad form. No matter your hand position.

Hired to edit a budding writer’s first novel, I found her description of her heroine’s weight-loss struggle unrealistic. With inquiry, I discovered the author was an athlete, a size four, and had never been overweight. Her perspective of struggling with counting calories, binging, and exercising was comical. I noted, “Do you think a woman who has been overweight for her entire life, is sixty pounds overweight, can just start running and compete in a marathon in thirty days? That she lost that weight in thirty days?” The writer decided it was best to interview women who had experienced the struggle. Her story completely changed.

I’ve also seen lack of perspective result in judgement about other’s career or profession, education, economic status, or personality.

I recall a client criticising an adult protective services investigator, charging her with negligence because she had not discovered his elderly aunt’s delicate and dangerous condition. When I pointed out how understaffed the adult protective services division is, and that the investigator handled thousands of people, the critic scoffed. Lack of perspective.

If you can’t say been there, done that, perhaps you should choose silence? Better: Choose observation. Choose to ask questions. Take a position of wonder. Speak from a place of curiosity.

And refrain from enforcing your perspective on others who do not share your reality. Others have not lived your life, felt your feelings, learned your knowledge. Our society has shifted to forcing perspective. That approach will never work. Just like you cannot demand a childless person understands parenting, you cannot demand another adopt your perspective.

Your best route is to educate. Don’t criticise. Communicate.

Instead of mocking grandma for not being able to attach an image to her post, teach her. Does it make you feel important to make another feel less? Do you feel smarter mocking another? And instead of correcting your grandchild for playing video games, how about jumping in and playing a few rounds?

The formula is one of interest, respect, and communication.

Think about this: the purpose of education is to provide diverse perspectives. This is especially true for higher education. In the past ten years, I have listened to students shift from appreciating core courses to demandinguniversities remove core requirements. Core courses like history, biology, geography, communication, and literature are decried. “I don’t need it for my career.” “It’s boring.” “It’s a waste of time.”

Few students appreciate the expansion of perspective these courses provide.

And just like mocking artistic preferences or adding salt to a balanced dish, we have people erasing history. Devaluing wise elders. Altering literature to satisfy cultural demands. Rejecting traditional practices.

Do I feel uncomfortable reading books where the characters are misogynists or racists? Yes. Because I do not share that perspective. Do I find old advertising scary when doctors recommended smoking to cure anxiety and drinking to help a pregnant woman sleep? Yes. Very. Erasing those truths won’t alter those truths. Understanding those perspectives is key to not adopting them ever again.

Take a trip to Australia and gaze at the moon.

It’s all about perspective.