| top | AnecdotesStimulating short stories in support of communication masteryUpdated/corrections/edits 5/14/12
The Homework StoryThis story goes back to 1973 when I was teaching part-time at the University of Hawaii Speech-Communication Department, Manoa Campus. Students reported on their Instructor Evaluation Forms that they thought they learned more with me than with other faculty members. It was also a time of awesome struggle in my second marriage. Coincidentally, the faculty members were arguing amongst themselves about combining the Speech and Communication Departments. Most disconcerting was the fact that although my students said they learned a lot from me I knew they could not communicate with their parents any better at the end of my course than they could at the beginning—in truth they mirrored me and my wife and the faculty. Whatever we were teaching, thought I, it sure wasn't communication. The results didn't fit my picture of our potential. I left the university and started doing my own thing, to my own standards, as a Leadership-Relationship Communication-Skills Consultant/Coach. Since then I've had thousands of clients, the vast majority through referrals. Although the interim stories are interesting The Homework Story takes place in 1987, 15 years later, with me moving to the Big Island of Hawaii and another part-time teaching position, this time on the Hilo campus of the University of Hawaii. Once again my subject is "Introduction to Speech/Communication." I was very excited about the opportunity. I just had spent fifteen years working with some of the most prominent business persons on Oahu (read, multi-cultural to the max). I had thousands of first-person experiences about the communication skills needed to succeed in the cultural melting-pot of the Pacific basin. I knew I'd be able to do an excellent job. It's my first day. I have a fresh haircut and word-processed outlines. I'm cool and ready to go. The 22 students are great. We have fun introducing ourselves, getting to know each other. Communication courses are like that. I'm on schedule with my 50-minute class and I've left a generous 5 minutes to assign the homework. They leave happy and my next identical class comes in. I'm on a roll. Like the others, they are mostly freshman, from the Big Island of Hawaii's high schools, with three students from the outer islands and two from the mainland. We have a great time. We go over the Class Agreements and after assigning the identical homework (read the first chapter). As always, I end classes exactly on time. It's day two: After about five minutes of small talk I asked them to form into small discussion groups and share what they got from the reading assignment. As I walked around it became clear that the majority had not read the first chapter. None had raised their hand (per a class agreement) to say so. H'mm, I could have sworn I communicated. Well, it's my responsibility for not communicating that I meant for them to do the homework. So, I modified my outline, cut short the discussion groups, and allowed myself 10 minutes to assign the homework. This time I made certain they got that I meant it. They reaffirmed their commitment to the Class Agreements, one of which was to do the homework. They left in great spirits. As soon as the second group was seated I asked, "Is there anyone who did not do the homework?" Two thirds of the class raised their hands. I acknowledged those that did and those that didn't. For the remainder of the class I had them do small-group work on a subject I took from the first chapter, the foundation for the remainder of the course. Again I allowed ten minutes to assign the homework. I was certain they heard that I wanted it done. Day three: "Is there anyone who didn't do the homework?" This time about 50% of the class raised their hands. The same thing happened with the second group. H'mm, this is interesting. With both classes I now set aside 15 minutes to communicate the homework. We talked about all the reasons, why they didn't do the homework, and I got their excuses. Day four: About five in each class didn't do their homework. Not always the same students either. I had them choose study partners and they exchanged phone numbers and times to call each other. They agreed to each be responsible for the other doing the homework. Eventually, we spent the whole class talking about what this was about. They shared that most (Big Island) high school teachers don't expect everyone to do the homework, and, that they don't check homework consistently. They just say, "Here's the homework," but they don't mean it. They also confessed that other UH instructors and professors were "not as strict" as I was. The next day two students went to the Dean with tears in their eyes complaining about me. I got a call from the Speech Communication Department Chairman to meet with him and the Dean. They asked, condescendingly, "What are you doing?" [as in, What in the hell are you doing?] I told them I was teaching students how to communicate. They looked at each other and almost in unison said, "No, no, no. Your job isn't to teach them how to communicate. Your job is to introduce them to the subject of communication and teach them about the communication process." My jaw dropped. I felt embarrassed, humiliated, and upset. With a B.A. and an M.A. in Speech Communication I had never made that distinction before. In one crystallizing moment everything became clear to me. No wonder high school teachers have a difficult time getting students to do the homework. No one has ever modeled for them how to produce that result. It's not something that's taught to education majors at the university level. The Chairman continued,
I mumbled something about one of the agreements the students made on the first day—to communicate any upsets with me first—and, that I wished the Dean had asked them, "Have you talked to Mr. King about this?" I knew from their comments, and the fact that I wanted to be right and make them wrong, that it was hopeless. I should have gone to them both, at the beginning of the semester, and asked if they would support my students in honoring their agreement to communicate upsets to the person with whom they have the upset. Duh! As though I didn't know the university faculty communication model (appropriately referred to as the Adversarial Communication Model) supports (behind the back) badmouthing. The Dean then suggested that he and the Chairman sit in on one of my classes the following day. I said that it would be ok as long as they would agree to sit in the circle and participate in the discussions. They both said that they didn't want to be a part of the discussion, merely to sit in the rear and observe. I told them they would influence the student's participation. Unbelievably, they both argued that it wouldn't affect the students. I saw in that moment that I did not have the skills, nor permission, to remind them of something I had been taught in a Freshman speech class, that observers always affect the outcome. I told them that it wouldn't work for me to have them observe. They were upset. The two students transferred to another class. I gave the rest of the students a choice, ". . . a watered-down easy course, or, the best I knew how." They unanimously opted for the latter. I finished the semester and have not been selected to teach again. —by Kerrith H. (Kerry) King
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key to return For seven years I volunteered my services,
four hours a week, at the
est Office of Hawaii. That's another story. This one
is about my experience with Elaine Cronin, the office
manager, whom I hold in high regard. She knows how to
manage. It was a privilege to work with her. One day she gave me a stack of 300 letters
to fold, add two inserts, and stuff into envelopes. She
demonstrated exactly how it was to be done. I was a bit
miffed that she thought I needed a demonstration, but
watched anyway. She then had me do one. She then said, "No.
This way." She showed me that I had not placed the fold of
the letter in the envelope exactly as she had demonstrated.
I was always discovering how unconscious I was around her.
She kept me awake. Having satisfied her that I knew how to
do the job as she wanted it done, she left. About 20 minutes into the job Elaine came
out of her office and asked me to make a copy of something. It's important to know that we were
working at the level of excellence, to get the job done
exactly as communicated. Each job was an exciting
opportunity, not only to serve but to show how great I was.
Can you spell e-g-o? So, I went to the copier, placed the
paper perfectly. I looked at the result. It wasn't centered
left to right. I did three more copies, each one more
towards perfection. I then sped back, like a second-grader
having erased my first chalk board, with my great job done.
She thanked me. She had no idea of the trouble I went
through to do it perfectly. She really didn't care about how
much time it took, just that I did the job. The drama was
mine. I then went back to the table outside her
office and resumed stuffing the envelopes. About five
minutes had passed and she came out and stood watching me
for a few seconds and then, from the middle of one of the
stacks I had done, took out one and opened it. They hadn't
been sealed yet. She took out the letter and showed me it
was missing one of the inserts. It blew my mind. I would
have bet money that I had been doing yet another perfect
job. She then walked over to the copy machine, opened the
lid and to my embarrassment found the master I had left
there, from which I made the copy. And no, she could not
have seen me make the missing insert mistake from her
office. My jaw dropped to the floor. She then said casually, with
no emotion whatsoever, "Go though the stacks and double-check those you've
done." I did and that was the only one I had goofed up on. It was mind
blowing. I couldn't believe what she had done. To be so in tune with things.
I had had enough experiences with Elaine, and other
est staff members, to know it wasn't luck that she
reached into the middle of the pile and found my one error. How did she know to look for the error, the incomplete?
She found herself making a mistake at her desk due to her incomplete job of
supervising me in doing complete work with the copier job. Magic happens in
the space of integrity, when one is committed to doing complete work. —by
Kerrith H. (Kerry) King
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Close your browsers window or press the back key to return The Army hired a communication consultant
to improve communications, specifically between and amongst
the junior officers and enlisted personnel. The consultant asked the Generals how
communication was between themselves and their subordinates.
Almost as though rehearsed they replied that it was "pretty
good." They all said they had an "Open Door Policy." They
sincerely felt as though they were there for their men. The
enlisted men could come in any time and talk about anything. The consultant then asked the middle
echelon officers, the Colonels and Majors, what they
thought. The officers said that they also had an open door
policy for their men and ensured that the policy was kept
all the way down the chain of command. They felt things were
quite good with senior officers, they were however, ". . .
always aware of being diplomatic and respectfully courteous
when talking with them." They all said they were more
spontaneously honest with fellow ranking officers. When the enlisted men were asked what they
thought was the communication problem in the military, they
said they couldn't tell their superiors the truth. They were
always worried about promotions and pretty much kept their
opinions of their sergeants and officers to themselves. The
Open Door Policy? Yes, it's there, but who's going to tell a
Sergeant or a General the truth? Whenever possible, " . . .
you tell them what they want to hear." The point of the story is that no matter what
the leadership of an organization thinks, those dependent upon
management for promotions and survival withhold certain
thoughts, the personal-growth feedback, the stuff that really
counts. There is a communication model that
supports open, honest, and spontaneous communication. It's
not taught at public schools.
—by Kerrith H. (Kerry) King If
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Close your browsers window or press the back key to return My first recess, the first day of second grade in a
new school. We had just moved. My parents had promised me wonderful new
friends, excited to meet me. So far, the response had been cool at best.
No one seemed to notice me at all, and everyone already had friends. So
I sat alone at recess, in a safe shady spot, uncomfortable, anxious,
assessing the mass of students, wondering where my niche was. Then, a loud bell rang. The raucous playground jumped,
and kids jumped down from tires, off swings, running in all directions,
disappearing into different doors along the brick wall. I ran too,
toward a door, following the crowd, but as I got closer I realized it
was younger children streaming into it. Wrong door. I stood still as the
crowd of kids washed over me, looking for a face I knew. They all looked
like strangers streaming by. Suddenly another bell rang, and all at once
the doors closed. There I stood, alone in the silence, in a vast
concrete plain of playground. I faced the red brick wall lined with orange doors.
Maybe twenty doors. Each door looked identical; no words, no pictures,
all the same orange. The silence and the wind, and my grief and fear,
and total aloneness. Would anyone even know I was out here? Were the
doors locked? Alone, abandoned, probably about to get yelled at if
someone did discover me still out at recess. I stared hard at the doors.
I searched within me to see if I knew it, could remember by instinct
which one it was. I felt stupid and ashamed. Everyone else, even those
smaller children, every single one knew which was their door. Every
second I waited in that silence, the terror was building that someone
was about to come out and yell at me, thinking I was bad and skipping
school. Being new, no one knew I was good yet. I did not want to walk
back into the second grade on my first day crying like a child before
all those strangers, having been stupid. But I was crying. I tried to
stop, but it was too late. There was no hiding it now, and no excuse for
it. Only a medical emergency would do. I picked a door and burst into it, covering one eye
with my hand, into a quiet room full of staring older students, and an
unfamiliar teacher. I felt a twinge of relief that it was not my own
class. "Help" I sobbed to the strange teacher, "I have something in my
eye!" Put out but concerned, she called on a boy and told him to take me
to the nurse. He was gruff and contemptuous, but he escorted me through
the labyrinth of halls to the bright office without requiring from me
even a word, which suited. He left me there, with a real nurse, wearing
a white outfit and everything. She had me lay down on a paper-covered
cot while she tended someone else. My heart sang. I breathed in the
cooling air-conditioned air, and the mint/disinfectant smell, and was
comforted.
When she came to speak with me her manner was gentle,
but when she said, "What's wrong?" I was undone. I cried and could not
speak. She waited awhile, then began to question me. "Did you fall? Cut
yourself on something? Twist an ankle?" Sobbing, I shook my head, but
one part of me was waiting for her to name some hurt that fit. "Do you
have to use the bathroom?" I paused in my crying, and realized that I
did. So I went, and after I splashed my face in cold water, and
collected myself somewhat. I came out. "I had something in my eye, but I
cried it out." I felt bad lying to her, in her clean bright space, but
better than having her, my only ally, know how stupid I was. She
assessed me coolly, then said, "Very well, you may return to your
class." "I don't know the way!" I said instantly, about to cry again
thinking of the dark maze, twists and turns and strange doors. "I will
take you," she said, and did.
But the next day I had the same problem, and was back
on the paper couch after an identical incident. I did this for about a
week, until I managed to latch on to someone I could recognize from my
class at the end of each recess, and stay on their heels until I was
through the correct orange door. The nurse wised up, of course and began
to ask things like, "Is there a class you have now that you don't like?
Math, maybe?" But after I evaded the interrogation, she always escorted
me back to my classroom. I never told anyone the real reason. —
by Kim Wilkinson, Board Member, Community Communications. If
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return Several years ago I arrived at that it was hopeless.
The more I learned the less I knew. It hurt deeply. It shattered my
Yankee can-do-attitude to the very core, so much so that I checked in to
a Zen monastery in Japan. I had entertained thoughts of retiring there.
It's not by accident that on either side of the door
to many Zen temples are two fierce looking guardians. The one called
Paradox the other Confusion. The point being that to experience
enlightenment one must pass through (choose to experience) both. It was
no secret that I was escaping and seeking refuge. I rationalized that I
enjoyed serving so what better place to retire to than amongst people
committed to enlightenment? The monastery surpassed my mind's picture of
what one should be like. It was exquisitely beautiful and serene; to
this day I often tear up in appreciation of the simplest of meals.
This story takes place one chilly morning. One thing I
hadn't counted on, after living 13 years in Hawaii, was the crisp cold
mornings atop Mt. Koya. Each morning I'd sit in the sun on a wooden porch
overlooking a carp pond. The water trickled down into the pond from a
near vertical dew-covered hillside. For me it was quite close to heaven.
This particular morning I was doing what I called meditating, and not
very good, because I was easily distracted by a gurgling, slurping noise
made by some leaves that were stuck in a wire strainer at the edge of
the pond. The wire-covered overflow pipe was to prevent the water from
getting too high. The sound and activity engaged me as I sat warming
myself. I was attempting to Zen the leaves away without success and the
noise continued to echo in the amphitheater-like surroundings.
I hadn't been there but a few minutes when Happy
Heart, that's as close as I could get to the translation of the Zen
Master's name, came out. He looked at me and then towards the gurgling
noise. Without a word he slowly turned and went back inside. No less
than two minutes later two monks came out, took off their sandals, and
within seconds they had waded into the frigid water and removed the
leaves. The reverence with which they did this task was such that it was
clear they were merely giving the leaves another place to play. The two bowed towards me and left and then Happy Heart
came out. He looked at me and I looked at him. And though an observer
could have seen that not a word was exchanged, what I experienced was
the most profound acknowledgment in my life. It was the first time I had
ever been in the presence of what I call greatness or knowingness and
not felt as though I had a long way to go. He was there to serve and
honor me. I was deeply moved. I wish there was some incredible moral that I could
end this story with other than I was there to serve and in turn was
validated. I left the monastery shortly thereafter. One of the reasons I left? It has nothing to do with
the truth but it's interesting, at least to me. It became clear to me
that a Zen Master considers himself to be a success if he can replace
himself before he dies. It's not the kind of communication model where
there is room for input or change. The system works, to the degree it
works. My commitment now is to incorporate the best parts of all the
communication models of the world into one universal model, one that we
can all drop into from time to time, especially when it's important that
everyone feel good upon completion of a conversation. —by Kerrith H.
(Kerry) King If
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return Crawling on burnt hands and knees across the
blistering hot sand, his throat rasping in searing pain with each
seemingly last breath, with only a couple hours to go before he reached
town, a miner came across a cabin. In the cabin was a rusty water
pump. The pump handle was in the up position, as though it was waiting
for him. Tied to the handle was a goatskin flask with at least a cup of
water in it. Attached to the flask was this note. Dear Traveler, I know how bad it is for you.
That's why I drilled the well and built this cabin. You may drink
the water and it will see you to safety, or, you can risk pouring it
down this rusty pump so as to wet the leather washers thereby
enabling you to prime the pump and drink your fill and refill the
flask for the next needy traveler. The variables seem obvious. Far from any desert, with
our thirst quenched, we are able to sit righteously and detached and
weigh all the factors. For example, we might think, "It would be stupid
to pour the water down a possibly dry well." "What if the washers were
so dry that they had cracked and broke?" "I know, I'll drink the bag of
water and come back later and replace it." Unbeknownst to the miner there are several fundamental
generating principles at work. The miner drinks the bag of water and
promises himself to return and leave much more than a small flask.
However, he gets bit by a scorpion and dies not 100 yards from town. You
see, he dismissed the thought that while he was gone another traveler
may have needed the water—it's referred to as—survival at the expense of
another. What's the purpose of this story here in a website
about communication? Well, (pun intended) it's about integrity as a
communication variable. When something doesn't go as envisioned one
can't be certain if it has to do with one's integrity or simply a
communication problem until one has eliminated the outcome as being a
consequence of an
out-integrity. "H'mm. lets see.
What could this broken agreement be about?" If nothing comes up it's
most likely about your agreement-making skills. For most, the question
reveals a thought about an incomplete, an unacknowledged perpetration, a
broken agreement with another. For example: Take the case of a mechanic "past due"
for his monthly house rent payment, who opts for his own survival. The
mechanic has valuable tools or a TV that he could sell so that his
landlord doesn't have to sell something to meet his own monthly mortgage
payment to the bank. But the mechanic thinks, "I'll keep my tools so I
can make some money so I can then pay my rent." He doesn't realize that
he has had this survivalist philosophy, this ground of being, of his own
survival being more important than his word, for many years. All
people who file for bankruptcy have this survivalist philosophy. It's
the source of their failure.
In the study of communication it's imperative that you
study the subject of integrity. Look now to see what your philosophies
are.
1) Do you think there's a possible connection
between the fact that the mechanic doesn't have enough money to pay
his rent and the fact that all along he's not been committed to
keeping his agreements?
2) Is there anyone who would say you are surviving
at their expense?
3) Do you have any broken financial agreements
that are causing others hardships?
—by Kerrith H. (Kerry) King If
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return —by Kerrith H. (Kerry) King If
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return Once upon a time in the land of Be, where everything
is perfect, there lived a young person. We're not sure whether the
person was a boy or a girl. Anyway, this person had an amazing talent.
Believe it or not they could cause people to do exactly what they were
doing. Now you may smile, or even laugh at this unusual
ability, but it's true. No matter what someone else was doing, this
young magician could snap their fingers and, POW! They could even get
adults to do what they were doing. Actually, most of the time it wasn't
necessary to do the finger snapping. To tell the truth, it didn't make
any "POW" noise either. They just silently intended it. Can you imagine walking down the hallway in school and
someone yells at you, "Hey stupid! Yah, you!." And you saying, "Thanks.
I obviously needed that. Somehow I knew I could count on you to say
that." Or your mother, calling you into the kitchen, and before she can
open her mouth you saying, "Yup , I'll go clean my room." Would that
blow her mind or what? It was cool. Everywhere this young awesome person went
it was the same. In school, with a teacher who was grumpy, they thought,
"I wonder why I caused that? I sure did a good job." At other times, in
fact quite a lot of the time, they forgot that they could cause what was
happening to be happening. For instance, when they got in an argument
with their best friend, who wouldn't let them borrow their bike, they'd
have to stop the argument and remember that they were causing their
friend to be stingy. How can you get mad at someone who's doing what
you're intending them to do? Now you may be thinking, Yah, but why would
someone cause that? Why would someone cause another person to be stingy?
Well, you have to remember they could only cause what was happening to
happen. Actually, you have the same ability, this magical
power. You can choose to be exactly where you are right now, this
moment. Go ahead, choose it, right now. Kind of simple isn't it. Almost
silly, yes? Well, it's not so silly when you see two adults arguing.
It's easy to see both have forgotten they have the same ability; to
stop, listen, and intend for the other to say exactly what they are
saying. If you want to you can spend a lot of time trying to
figure out why something is happening, or why it happened, but it's not
necessary. Really! You don't have to figure it out. When the time comes
for you to know, you'll know. The answer will magically appear as to why
you caused something unpleasant to happen. Until then, just be willing
to know that you caused it because you caused it. Here's your opportunity to be magical. The story's
about end, would you like to have a shot at intending that? Once you
choose to cause what's happening you too get to be magically transported
to the land of Be where everything is perfect. —by Kerrith H. (Kerry)
King If
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return One morning a monk asked his Zen master, "Sir, will
you teach me how to manifest my stated intentions." The Zen master said,
"Sure. Sit down. I'll show you how to cause a dog to poop on that flat
stone in the middle of the yard, on my command. How's that?" The
monk said, "Way cool," or something like that. And they sat down.
As dusk approached, the novice said, "Sir, I don’t
mean to be rude, but you said . . ." The Zen master interrupted him and
said, "Yes. And I will. We’re waiting for a dog to poop on the stone.
When it does, I’ll command it to poop." To manifest a stated intention you must begin by
intending what's happening to be happening, to choose what’s so to be
so. To create something you first must know how to create
nothing. Until you know how to create nothing, the space in which
something is created, you can't be certain you are creating anything.
Until you know how to create nothing life just happens. For example: For most divorced couples love at the
beginning just happened. We know this to be true because during the
divorce process neither knew how to recreate the experience of love—at
will, simply through communication. Some, not all, later discover, that
they had become stuck, each doing his/her
imitation of communication. —by Kerrith
H. (Kerry) King If
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return . . . the motivation behind the
Community Support Group Project. With a clean slate and within minutes of leaving the
correctional facility a parolee, sincerely believing they are intent on
going straight, is usually picked up at the gate by a spouse, family
member, or friend. Quite possibly they are asked, "Would you like to
drive?" They are elated. They accept the offer and cautiously pull out
on to the freeway. The experience of freedom is exhilarating. Soon they
find themselves being passed by those going faster than the posted
limit. They dutifully obey the law resisting the urge to keep up with
the flow. But their passenger says, as though they are joking, "Hey,
you've been inside too long. You're holding up traffic." The
parolee, now trained to follow instructions without hesitation,
unwittingly succumbs to the peer pressure. And so, within minutes of
parole they have been lovingly supported by a true "friend" in breaking
a law, risking a sanction by their parole officer if they get a speeding
ticket. They ask their friend if they can stop off at a book
store because they promised their parole officer they would buy a study
guide for the upcoming Carpenter Journeyman's Test. The friend says,
"Great, I'll treat you to some good coffee at Borders." He buys his book
while his friend buys two cups of coffee and sets them on a table. His
friend then leads him to the magazine rack. He urges him to pick out a
few magazines to read. Not wanting to be a stick-in-the-mud he does as
expected, knowing full well that reading without paying is wrong, and
that he's ripping off not only the merchant but the distributors and
authors. He feels uncomfortable doing it and keeps looking up,
expecting, if not a Correctional Officer, possibly a clerk to ask, "May
I see your receipt please?" The friend notices his furtive looks and
further encourages him, "Relax. Look around. Everyone does it." It
doesn't occur to him that Borders is capitalizing on the unethicalness
of customers—the implied but non-published policy ostensibly generates
more sales. A "Please Browse" sign would support everyone's integrity. The "friend" is unaware that twice now they have
supported the parolee in resorting to the same behaviors that
contributed to his incarceration. Later they will say to others, "Yah,
it's too bad. I could tell he was heading back to prison." The parolee then arrives at home and an old friend
stops by and asks if he wants to go see some of the guys. He eagerly
accepts the invitation. The guys are drinking beer. A few are smoking
pot but he refuse both. Everyone laughs but they understand and
seemingly accept his decision. However, they keep kidding him, and
offering him tokes, trying to assure themselves he's still one of the
guys. Later, when a few whom he respects have left the party, he finally
has one beer and just two tokes. Later, on the way home, the driver of the car casually
mentions that they don't have car insurance. This is a given for perhaps
a third of his old friends so it's "no big thing." It's always been that
way. The parolee just gets it, unaware of the friend's unethical dump,
the unconscious test, to see just how straight the parolee is going to
go. Silence assures the uninsured perpetrator that the parolee is still
the same old accepting friend. At home, sitting around the kitchen table, his mother
mentions how helpful his brother has been while he's been away, "He let
me claim he lives here so I could get more food stamps and welfare
money." Again, silence is complicity. It is unthinkable to say
anything about the fraud. It's always been that way with one thing or
another. Nothing really serious, nevertheless, both illegal and
unethical. Each perpetration throughout the day eroded the
experience of wholesome integrity that was there earlier in the morning.
Each complicity having its own consequence. Each perpetration begs to be
acknowledged to prevent compounding consequences. Not having anyone to
clear with, to acknowledge the day's perpetrations, the parolee falls
asleep, but it's not the healthy sleep of a person committed to
integrity. He is neither whole nor complete, "But what the heck," he
mutters to himself dozing off, "nobody else is either." If
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return With military precision (pun intended) one can count
on an academy scandal every few years. They take turns—the Navy, then a
few years later the Army. Lately the Air Force is having a "rape"
scandal. What follows is a point of view not reported elsewhere. It's
written by a retired Army airborne
infantry officer. For many this is going to be extremely uncomfortable
to read. It has to do with responsibility, cause, intention, and
communication.
Following is an overview of the latest scandal: A
female cadet reported that a senior male cadet had raped her, not once
but repeatedly throughout the semester. When the female cadet finally
reported the incident about 40 other female cadets came forward and said
that they too experienced similar, and worse, repeated treatments by
many senior male cadets.
The behavior of the male cadets is so reprehensible it
makes it difficult to get to responsibility, to cause, in the matter.
What has yet to be reported is the equally reprehensible out-integrity
of each of the "victims" and of the Commandant, the one responsible for
communicating and supporting the academy’s code of
honor.
America’s military academies operate from what’s
referred to as a Code of Honor. Specifically: "A cadet will not lie,
cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do." It outlines exactly how to
handle perpetrations. If
a cadet observes another cadet or staff member breaking a rule, the
cadet has agreed (pledged his/her word) to confront the rule-breaker and
ask him/her to report themselves. If the perpetrator refuses to report
him/herself they must be told that they leave the observer no choice but
to report them; or else, and here’s the biggie, both the perpetrator and
the observer will be punished, possibly expelled. So we ask: How can a male upper classman make even
sexual overtures, let alone rape in the form of sex-at-my-command (a
most heinous misuse of control and power) towards a junior female
classmate, except with the fear of knowing with absolute certainty that
it will be reported? We also ask: If both the victim and the perpetrator
are equally bound by the same code of honor what choice does the female
have but to handle the infraction (the first leer, the first untoward
communication) as pledged by her word of honor? Would she even want to
belong to an organization in which, if she reported such intolerable
behavior, she was not believed? Did each female cadet not give her word
to the Commandant of the Academy that she could be absolutely trusted to
support the code? And finally we ask: Who communicated to the male
cadets that such behavior was acceptable? It was—unbeknownst to most
everyone—the Commandant himself. How do we know? We know by the results
he produced using his leadership-communication skills.
It was in fact unconsciously communicated non-verbally. Within a few
conversations during a typical three-hour communication consultation
with a communication-skills coach the Commandant we would discover that he held (and most likely
still holds) unacknowledged biased and sexist views. Now here's the irony. The subject of non-verbal, to
include unconscious intentional communication, is not part of any
academy's leadership-communication curriculum. It wasn't until I left
both the Navy and the Army, and the university education system (see
about) that I even heard about the
subject of leading (communicating) from intention. I first heard about
it in the business world as part of a communication workshop curriculum.
It was not covered at all in any of my B.A. or M.A. speech-communication
curriculums. Not even to this day do universities cover such important
communication variables as acknowledgement, withholds, integrity, and
perpetrations—the variables that a communication-skills coach knows with
certainty are the source of all
communication breakdowns.
This leads to the question: Why isn't this advanced
communication model taught in our military academies and taught to
education majors in universities nationwide? The answer is: A Commandant, Chancellor, University
President, and a communication-skills coach, him/herself, must operate
from impeccable integrity. Few leaders, professors, teachers can afford
such luxury. A totally honest teacher is perceived as a threat to most
everyone else in today's leadership positions, in part because his/her
students must agree to go absolutely straight, to include cleaning up a
lifetime of perpetrations, from cause (zero blame). In the
presence of someone who operates from integrity any out-integrity soon
reveals itself. Herein lies (pun not intended) the rub, and the cause
of the pattern of the repeating military academy scandals. The code of
honor is not communicated. It is not delivered with intention for it to
be honored, therefore it’s only understood. It's neither gotten nor
recreated.
Note: It would take a Communication-Skills Coach
about three days (9:00 am - approx. 2:00 am) each day Fri, Sat, and
Sun (a weekend-long intensive) to communicate the code to an academy
student body, its staff and administrators. A communication-skills
coach is someone who has spent as much time studying/teaching
communication as anyone has spent in his/her specific field
including medical doctors. Most college graduates (including
education majors and mental health professionals) acknowledge that
with few exceptions they've only taken the required "intro to the
fundamentals and principles of communication" courses; I know of no
university that teaches interpersonal communication to any degree of
skill, let alone mastery; none require proficiency in more than one
communication model. What’s so is, most academy commandants are stuck
somewhere in the process of becoming a leader. What you say? A General
is not a leader, they are only trying to be a leader? Yes. They were
promoted without the validation of a communication-skills coach. Senior
officers honestly (and arrogantly) believe that what they call
communication is what it is. The way one can tell that an organization
has a leader is that the agreements/rules are co-created and honored.
This is because a leader communicates the rules as opposed to
"announces" them, "put them out," "tells" or "informs everyone," "says
them," "make them available," etc.. Just as a leader inspires integrity
so too do subordinates have no choice (WHATSOEVER) but to mirror the
out-integrity of their leader. An aura of integrity emanates from a
leader. A leader can tell from experience if there is a withhold or an
unacknowledged perpetration in a relationship. When a relationship
starts from integrity any out-integrity is like a "mote in thine eye."
It begs to be acknowledged (verbally communicated) and cleared.
For example: The majority of parents miss their
child’s first lie. Most adults have yet to be acknowledged (caught) for
their own first lie. You might ask, why is the change (obvious to an
objective observer), from a countenance of innocence to a look of guilt
on their child's face, missed by most parents? It’s simply because most
parents have so many unacknowledged lies that they have lost their
ability to hear another’s. At some point in time most parents and
leaders lapse into their
imitation of communication.
Put another way, each academy commandant who has experienced a
cheating/abuse scandal has his own perpetration for which he has not
been acknowledged (caught). Cadets have no choice but to mirror their
commandant's integrity. There are no exceptions to this phenomenon. The
prevailing military communication model supports leaders hiding
his/her perpetrations (accumulated during childhood and their previous
command experiences) for fear of not being promoted. Few generals have
acknowledged to anyone the deceits they perpetrated that caused their
superiors to think of them as clever and resourceful.
Here’s an example of a few minutes of a proposed three-day
weekend-long leadership-communication skills workshop to be given at the
beginning of each academy year. It would be titled, "The Honor Code of
Conduct—a communication workshop." It would be facilitated by the
Commandant and a non-military communication-skills coach. It would
include the following: "Let's begin. Will the following individuals
please go to the rear tables, there is an incomplete on your Academy
Application. Note to the reader: Communication can not take
place when there is an unacknowledged error, perpetration, or
withhold in the space. 98% percent of all applications
have one or more errors (to include a
"lazy/accidental/purposeful" omission) on them. It's not only
that the cadet applicant made the error—that's what applicants
do—it's that the staff is so unconscious that they did not catch
it. Such sloppy work creates disrespect. With few exceptions a
poorly performing subordinate has one or more errors on their
paper work, beginning with the application form. The following takes place some time on day two: ". . . now I want to speak directly to you female
cadets. If a male cadet in any way imposes himself sexually upon you
and you don’t report it, you will be expelled. Now this is not
hypothetical. It will happen. Some senior male cadet who needs to be
caught for a life-time of sexist communications and unacknowledged
perpetrations, will impose himself upon you in some fashion. We can
absolutely count on this happening. What I need to know now is
whether or not I can trust you to ask the cadet to report himself to
a senior cadet who will report it to a staff member who in turn will
report it to me; if I can’t trust you to do that then the military
doesn’t want you. Leave now [a pause here for any to leave]. We do
not want covert saboteurs in the military. Silence condones. To be
an officer you must be willing at all times to not have the job. If
you become attached to graduating then you will fail the Commandant.
You will compromise your integrity. You will have thwarted and
sabotaged the Commandant. We already know the male cadet of whom we
speak doesn’t deserve to be an officer. What's also true is the
female who attracts and rewards by silence such behavior is also not
fit to be an officer. We don’t need another "tail-hook" incident in
which you, yes you, let something slide, for fear of . . . for
reasons. You either maintain your integrity or you have your
reasons. Men, you are making the same agreement with me. If
a female cadet makes a sexual advance towards you then your
responsibility is to stop it mid-communication. For example: You would say, "This doesn't feel
good." If she says, "I got it." and stops, then you've both
honored the code. The incident does not need to be reported. If
however she argues, or blames you, and leaves you not feeling
whole and complete, then your agreement is to ask her to report
herself. To not is to intend it. Note: When you report yourself it does not
necessarily mean you will be punished. Most often a verbal
acknowledgment, without any repeat of similar behaviors, will
complete the incident. We are going to spend this whole weekend going
over just what the code of honor means. The floor is open for
discussions throughout out the 51-hour "Honor Code of Conduct—a
communication workshop." No one leaves except that all are clear. To
not share a thought this weekend is as good as deciding to not be an
officer. I need and want to hear your philosophies your belief
systems. I don't care what they are. What's important is that you
have the courage to share them verbally with all of us rather than
communicate them non-verbally throughout your career. If you hide
your thoughts you are as good as washed out. What follows is an out-pouring (each cadet
standing and sharing with everyone) all the thoughts and beliefs
you can imagine; workshops continue past midnight until everyone
gets that their thought about men or women have been acknowledged. More about the Air Force's honor code:
Here's a headline from the Honolulu Advertiser:
(5/15/04)
Air Force Academy head takes blame in test cheating
scandal Here it is, only a few months later and we see that
the Commandant is still using his old leadership-communication model. Still recovering from the rape scandal cadets once
again unconsciously draw our attention to the academy's leadership. It's
a shame because the source of the problem is not the cadets. Leaders
lead and subordinates follow. Like children the cadets are doing exactly
what they are supposed to be doing. Most students try to do as little as
possible—in this case, study. Leaders know this; however, those in
the process of becoming leaders (the academy staff) cannot tell
when a cadet (a subordinate) is jerking them around pretending to play
the game. Cadets have absolutely no choice but to mirror the integrity
of the leader of the organization.
In this case, Lt. General John Rosa, the present
Academy Superintendent, is missing the leadership-communication skills
it takes to communicate the code of honor. Cheating is a powerful communication of disrespect.
For some it's a way of bringing to someone's attention the fact that
something is wrong. The Superintendent has become stuck doing his
imitation of communication. The cadets are presently faced with a
dilemma. They are bound by oath to support their Commander-in-Chief yet
at some level it's possible that a few hold the belief that something about the
U.S. invasion of Iraq is out-integrity; therefore, getting expelled for
cheating is ironically the most ethical, albeit unconscious, way of
getting out of the responsibility of leading men in a battle they don't
agree with. A part of an American's psyche is that a man's home is his
castle. We just don't assassinate other presidents. There are other ways
of communicating that will produce the desired result. —by Kerrith H.
(Kerry) King If
you liked this story please press the "I liked . . ." button. Upon
pressing the button the page will refresh as though nothing happened.
Close your browsers window or press the back key to return Picture if you will that you have been floating around
in the universe for as long as you can remember, just floating along,
taking in the mind-blowing scenery. And, that you have been alone.
You’ve always been alone and as far as you know you are the only one in
the universe. It could very well be this scenario isn’t far from the
truth but that’s a bit existential for this simple story about
acknowledgement. Notice we can’t continue the story with, "And then one
day . . ." because there are no days or nights, there’s not even time as
we know it. So, all of a sudden, literally from nowhere, you see
something different off in the distance and it’s coming towards you. It
generates confusion and excitement. It’s new. The closer it comes the
more experiences and emotions it triggers. Then the reality of what
you’re seeing strikes you; it’s something that looks pretty much like
you. As this other you approaches it triggers a flood of thoughts and
questions. Once it’s within hailing distance you say, "Hi." But
Self #2 doesn’t reply, it just ignores you. And so you repeat
your greeting but a bit louder, "Hi. Are you real?" A flood of questions follow, "Do
you see me?" "Can you hear me?" "Am I
real?" Still no reply, and as it
floats by and off into stellar darkness you yell out desparately,
"Where are you going?" Not a nod, not a gesture, nothing. Now you’re left with gazillions of
thoughts and for the first time ever you are incomplete. A part of you
seems to be missing, and definitely something has been added. You are
out-integrity for the first time ever; you've had your first
interaction, your first communication, that was not mutually satisfying.
It will affect you and all your communications for life, such is the
power of an incomplete relationship. The End. Actually there’s lots more, because it poses
the question of whether or not you are real; without another to
acknowledge you you can’t know for certain, such is the power of a
simple acknowledgement. A nod, a smile, a purposeful avoidance, even a
condescending put-down, assures you that you are having an effect, that
you are real.
So, before we drift away from each other, I say, yes,
you are real. Yes you are having an effect, especially your non-verbal
communications, and yes, you are entertaining me as in causing me to
think in your direction, (a reaction to the experience and thoughts that
have been triggered between us).
You do have my attention;
I teach and write stories for you. Without you I am nothing. And,
the biggie, yes, I love you. —by Kerrith H. (Kerry) King For more about acknowledging read —
communication breakdowns. If
you liked this story please press the "I liked . . ." button. Upon
pressing the button the page will refresh as though nothing happened. This story is about teachers and communication and
what appears to be a silent conspiracy in support of mediocrity. It's assumed that all university speech-communication
professors know how to teach education majors to communicate subject
matter, yet each year, for the past two decades, more and
more University of Hawaii freshman have required remedial classes to
teach them what they were supposed to have learned in high school. It
begs the question: “What’s happening, why aren’t university and high school teachers
teaching as we know they can?” What follows sheds some light on this phenomenon; its
purpose is to trigger conversations that will eventually make a positive difference. We begin with a truism. Most college graduates
admit that their sp-com (speech-communication) classes were by far the easiest
(the least challenging, requiring the least amount of studying). Some might acknowledge that
sp-com teachers are the nicest, (read, easiest to con). Likeable and
nice, absolutely, however, "easy" is the exact
opposite of what it will take to produce the results we say we want. For example: Most who have a degree in teaching do not
yet know how to create an agreement that consistently produces all
homework handed in on time and neatly. Why we ask? Part of why is because such a curriculum addresses the
correlation between personal integrity and results. The majority of
educators are dragging into each student interaction a lifetime of
accumulated
perpetrations for which they have yet to
be acknowledged (caught). A person who operates from integrity can
experience another's out-integrity. A student whose family doesn't
operate with integrity is always looking for someone they can respect,
someone they can't con. When a student experiences an educator who is
out-integrity it triggers unconscious
disrespect. Such a relationship is not inspiring. A student who is
out-integrity (one with hundreds of unacknowledged perpetrations)
automatically mirror a teacher's out-integrity, each using the other
as a means of restoring their respective integrities Another part of the why has to do with ego.
College education majors graduate with an understanding of ego but their own is
unacknowledged and intact. Few have had the profound realization that
they cause all
breakdowns in communication. A
Teacher, having confronted (acknowledged) his/her ego, will call a
communication-skills coach and ask for support getting into
communication with a student and the ones who send their child to school
without the homework done. Those in the process of becoming Teachers
will (like an arrogant self-righteous husband prodded by his spouse,
refuse to stop and ask for directions) fail a student, honestly
believing that it’s partly the student’s responsibility for not
learning, whereas a Teacher will ask a coach, before it’s too late,
“What is it about how I am communicating that's producing this result?” It might be tempting to blame teachers however, it’s
not their fault. For one, they haven’t been taught how to communicate
subject matter (no excuses no reasons). Most importantly, each
education major graduates with her/own unique childhood definition of
the word responsibility still intact.
Ask all the teachers
in a school the definition of the word responsibility and you’ll get as
many different definitions as there are teachers; ergo, when a teacher
is asked to explain why a student failed they proffer low-grade scores
along with several other reasons and excuses, but not the truth. i.e. “I
didn’t intend for the student to learn" or, "I failed to get into
communication with the student and his/her parents.” Notice in this
example the "I" point of view with its absence of blaming excuses and
reasons.
This leads to another truism.
A teacher mirrors the leadership-communication skills of his/her
principal. Few principals have participated in a leadership training
program, fewer still have their own leadership-relationship
communication-skills coach on speed-dial. A teacher can go an entire semester doing what he/she believes
to be communication and predictably fail a few students. Seldom do
principals set goals that effectively measure whether or not a teacher
can consistently produce a stated intention; few keep daily track of each teacher's ability to consistently
cause all students to turn in their homework neatly and on time; it’s a
result that requires one to enroll parents in being aligned with The
Homework Agreement. It's obvious from the above that although sp-com
professors know how to teach education majors to communicate subject
matter, they simply don’t. And so once again we ask, why? Let's begin with the fact that sp-com curriculum
descriptions typically include words to the effect, “. . . to introduce
students to the fundamentals and principles of communication.” For an
analogy imagine a surgeon about
to operate on your brain who had merely been introduced to the fundamentals
and principles of surgery. To be clear, this is not only a Hawaii
problem. Instead of addressing the source of the problem
(leadership-communication skills)* universities nationwide have resorted
to requiring remedial courses for incoming freshmen. The problem has
become endemic. Education majors are being loosed on the public without
having mastered the basics of interpersonal communication. One might
infer that there is a nationwide conspiracy among speech and
communication professors to teach watered down courses to education
majors, why else do so few teachers know how to consistently produce,
“homework handed in on time and legibly?” And the answer is, tah da —
fear. Here's more that helps explain our unconscious
commitment in support of mediocrity: Education majors are not taught how to
co-create agreements; few teachers know how to consistently cause
homework to be done on time and legibly. It would take about 60
additional semester hours to produce this result. It verges on
unethical to graduate an education major who has not mastered such a
basic leadership-skill as co-creating agreements. A Teacher knows
that it’s never ever the student's fault.
Most sp-com courses do not cover the four
variables that serve as barriers to the experience of communication (incompletes,
withholds, unacknowledged perpetrations, and acknowledgements).
These variables account for all
breakdowns in communication,
therefore, teachers are unaware of the correlation between their
own personal integrity and outcomes; teachers have not learned
experientially that their unconscious house, their
less-than-satisfying personal relationships and, their withholds and
incompletes with family and friends, affect all outcomes with their
students. A teacher's admonition to do complete work, when delivered
from hypocrisy, gets gotten as a good idea, but because the
teacher’s household and relationships are out-integrity, the wisdom
isn’t experientially inspiring. Most teachers have not acknowledged, or
effectively addressed, their addiction to arguing and
blaming; one seldom if ever reads in a newspaper, "DOE Superintendent
Ms. xxxxxx acknowledges . . . our poor SAT scores and funding and
salary problems, mirror my leadership-communication skills.” The
communication skills it would take to effect satisfactory salaries
and fundings are the exact same skills it takes to communicate
subject matter. Creating/restoring one's integrity (the
single-most important prerequisite for mastering communication) is
not addressed or required in sp-com courses for education majors.
Education majors are not required to honor all agreements, to keep their
relationships clean, to resolve all upsets through to mutual
satisfaction, and to deliver all upsets (zero badmouthing or gossiping) to the person with whom they
have the upset. In other words, as teachers, they advocate, do as I say, not as
I do.
I trust the above is sufficient for you to
acknowledged that there is a conspiracy, a commitment to mediocrity; it
begs the question, how can so many brilliant professors nationwide,
especially from our Ivy league colleges, conspire to not teach what they
know empowers one to manifest his/her stated intentions? It’s not much
of a stretch to infer that our present economy mirrors our unconscious
commitment to mediocrity.
All it takes to move on is simply to acknowledged
what's so (more accurately, what has been so). As with alcoholism, the
first step is denial, "There ain't no stink'n conspiracy!"
It's not even necessary to know why or to figure out who's been in
charge or who's to blame; there's no need for more studies, all we need
are some new conversations in support of the intention to communicate
subject matter. —Kerrith H. (Kerry) King * Leadership
communication-skills: We all have the
same amount of leadership-skills. Some use their skills to forward
others, some unconsciously use their skills to effect mediocrity, and still others use
their leadership-communication skills to thwart and sabotage. The way to
discover what you've been up to is to look at the results those around
you are producing. Each communication
model
produces different results. If
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Send
us your feedback, corrections, comments, or submit a story to be posted. Other recommended readings,
Abuse and
Some Thoughts About Spanking.
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