Last Sunday afternoon, I said, “Sure! Let’s go to Skateville!” We grabbed a neighbor friend and off we went. I was pretty psyched to enjoy this very vintage atmosphere with my kids and get some exercise. I laced up my skates, snapped the plastic buckles on my son’s, and hit the rink.
And then my daughter and her friend spent almost all their time in the arcade. I don’t think they took more than a few laps in two hours.
How often have I told you, or a group I’m training, to practice curiosity, don’t assume… and here I sit seething with all the stories:
I bought an $11 ticket so you could spend money on low-win games that translate to paper tickets that end up costing $14 for a cheap squishy (horrible for the environment, not to mention your skin) and a miniature notepad? Where’s the fun in that? Do you know how many items you typically beg me for that you could have bought with that money? And what about our quality family time on the rink?
To their credit, they did have their skates on, whizzing from game to game, wielding tickets and calculating prize possibilities. But it’s not quite enough. All these layers of my values are getting pinged as I watch them not doing what I had expected.
I managed to stay silent and keep those initial thoughts, fast and furious as they were, to myself long enough to calmly say, “Hey girls, how about leaving the games and coming to skate a bit?”
To which I got a hasty reply tossed over a shoulder as she whooshed to another game: “Are you kidding? The games and prizes are the whole reason we wanted to come!”
YUP. There it was. They were fully living their values, but I had been putting my expectations onto what “fun” and “value for the entrance fee” should look like.
We all came for fun. We all like to skate. But where I walk past the claw game so I can get to the rink, it’s their main event. It’s a place where they get agency and freedom, reward and choice. And opportunities to practice critical thinking and collaboration skills times a thousand.
This is a basic dynamic in intercultural work. It trips us up in relationships all the time. And it’s been very apparent in the past decade+ of polarized discourse and politics in the US. Sharing values does not mean we will live them out in the same way. We might, and when we do, we often don’t notice. It’s only when behaviors surprise us that the tension arises.
The midterm elections were dramatic. I feel relief to have checks and balances restored. I also feel hopeful for policy changes that will honor every human life.
Even as we seek change, I notice a wariness in myself. I know how I would run the country, but I also know that’s not everyone’s ideal. Some people value the skating, others the arcade.
How can we pause, dig into our shared values, and then find ways of living those values that make room for different needs, priorities, and perspectives?
Maybe we don't all need to spend our time in the same part of Skateville. But we do need to figure out how to share the space, respect one another, and make sure everyone has a chance to participate. And sometimes, we may discover that the things we want are more alike than we assumed.
That’s our work as humans. To know ourselves, be curious about others, and build bridges of connection so that we can all feel good.
As for me? I let it go. The girls had a blast. I got to skate a ton. They totally got their money’s worth, with a very different output but just as much value!
And, okay, I’ll admit it. I felt a little vindicated later when I won a rink contest for a free pop. Because I was out there skating, not playing arcade games. Sometimes the little things count. And sometimes, it’s nice when your version of fun comes with a free pop!