Tribes

Some months ago, I read an article in Newsweek entitled "What's Your Tribe?" by biologist E.O. Wilson (April 9, 2012 issue). He had much to say about the evolution of tribal (or group) mentality and offered his findings on why humans desire to be part of a social group (the modern day psychological equivalent of an ancient tribe), exhibiting both the good, and not so good, behaviors of belonging.

In my own reflection, however, I didn't get much past the title question. 

I started thinking about what might constitute a tribe for me, and about to what tribe I might currently belong. Wilson had much to say on what draws us to a particular group, and submits his own biological discussion on all the group dynamics encountered, but my thoughts turned to what was, for me, a subtle difference between a group and a tribe.

Wilson stated, "Tribes gave visceral comfort and pride from familiar fellowship . . . A tribe gave people a name in addition to their own and social meaning in a chaotic world. It made the environment less disorienting and dangerous."

His use of the word "visceral" reminded me that one's tribe was more than a group of people who shared an interest; it indicated to me a deeper, more relational link. 

In addition to common enthusiasms, the dictionary ascribes common traits to members of a tribe as well. There's something really fun (and delighting) about getting together with an established group of people for the first time and experiencing the feeling of "Wow, these people are just like me!"  It is deeply comforting. It is familiar. It is orienting.

I felt that way (and continue to) when I went to my first Association for Conflict Resolution conference. Although I'd certainly done my share of research and read publications by many of the people there, when I actually got to meet some of them and had conversations with them, I was able to see the traits of this culture up close: people who so highly prize interpersonal peace that they have made peace building their profession; people who clearly see the obstacles to peace and yet are still dedicated to the education, interventions, and hard work of helping others overcome them; people who are optimistically striving to make peace the new normal wherever they can.

Whether or not you've experienced this tribal encounter in your life, I know you're looking for it --  if for no other reason than to simply find out that you're not the only person you know who feels a certain way about something. (Maybe that's what Wilson means by "a social meaning.") After all, that's one of the driving factors in our on-line social networking, isn't it?

Over the years, I've belonged to many a social group, but my number of tribes is considerably smaller. I can tell the difference. I know when I am simply attending a meeting or an activity -- or just adding another connection to my social networking accounts -- and when I'm getting together with people in my tribe.

The conflict resolution profession is an unusual tribe to belong to and I often see puzzled looks on people's faces when I declare I'm part of it. But, that doesn't really matter to me because, as with having any tribe, it does help make my world a little less dangerous.

Have fun thinking about "what's your tribe?" too!
Kay
www.confidentconflict.com

Going First

Footprints in the Snow by RCH

First: Coming before all others in time or order; never previously done or occurring.

Today is the first Monday, of the first full work week, of the first month of the new year.

I've been thinking a lot about "firsts" today and about what it means to be first.

Being first is often a coveted position among us humans. I remember in elementary school how exciting it was to be first in line. The prestige (well, for elementary school), the fun of being #1 with everybody following behind you. 

Even as an adult, being the point person -- facing a task with no one in front of you -- can be an exhilarating place to be. Lewis Grizzard captured one aspect of this when he said, "If you're not the lead dog, the scenery never changes" (that's certainly true if you're not sitting in the stroke seat in rowing!). Being first is a position that can definitely have its perks.

I maintain, however, that "being" first is slightly different than "going" first. Being first might involve a position of leadership, or moving along a designated path, but when you go first, sometimes it means doing something that no one has done yet -- at least, maybe not in the way you plan to do it. When you go first, you can be jumping into something all alone with no one behind you -- yours might be the only footprints in the snow as you forge ahead through the forest. It can be downright scary.

I'm trying to do something different now in my conflict resolution work -- trying to connect some dots in a new way and communicate that to my colleagues in the field. Lately I've realized that in many ways, I'm going first. I bump into questions and challenges by those for whom these concepts are unfamiliar. I encounter the general resistance to thinking outside the box or changing the status quo. At times it does feel more like blazing a trail than taking the lead.

But when I think of the being first experiences -- the clear vista ahead of me that allows me to expand my ideas, the excitement of being out in front to implement my discoveries myself in a way that I think is good (and especially the part about the scenery changing when you're the the lead dog!) -- I'm able to gain a valuable perspective. One that reminds me that going first can still be quite a ride.

Here's hoping your scenery is changing often!
Kay
www.confidentconflict.com