“Oh Deb, stop being so naïve!”
Those six words. Those impactful six words.
They were mad mumbled many many moons ago. There I was a relatively new academic administrator at a rural community college. I was happily dancing in a world of teaching and learning having crazy-fun. Everything was exciting. Everything was interesting. Everything had an air of college importance. I am not exactly sure of my stage of newness. But, I can say that my work world was full of just pure joy at every turn.
At that point, there was a problem cooking on campus. It was in my area of responsibility which was a bit large at that time. The problem was a bit more than challenging and a bit less than catastrophic. Meaning that the world of student learning was not going to come to a screeching halt, but it was going to be impacted enough to bring the challenge to the attention of several levels of leaders . . . including me. My team was up to bat and I was in the line-up.
As the newest kid on the administrator block, I was armed with a million ideas all of which I thought were tremendous and about a teaspoon full of experience. It was an incredible moment for me and probably a slightly uncomfortable moment for my colleagues.
And my background was coming into play. For . . . as long as I can recall, in both my work world and my personal life, I have always thought that there is no crisis that can not be solved with a little ingenuity and lots of thought and lots of hard work.
For example, I am often perplexed as to why someone hasn’t invented the flying car, or why energy hasn’t been harnessed enough to end dependance on fossil fuels, or why teletransportation isn’t a reality. I think that someone somewhere can solve the health puzzle to the point that we all will live a century and beyond. I think world hunger can be ended, that world peace is possible, and that goodness will win at all times over evil. Again, all solved with a little ingenuity, lots of thought, and lots of hard work.
So, as I approached my first big collegiate challenge as a leader of learning on my campus, I was in the land of thinking big and broad, looking at everything that could be if I just put my mind to it. I am certain that I probably rattled off more than fifty but less than one hundred potential ideas to avert the crisis. And I am certain that all of the ideas were great however, each one needed resources way beyond what was available and reasonable. I was certainly standing on the mountain of dream and was ignoring the world of reality completely.
Hence came those six words – “Oh, Deb, stop being so naïve!”
For a moment, the wind was definitely punched out of my sails. I stopped thinking about what could be with a little ingenuity, thought and hard work. I deferred to someone who had more experience than me. I knew it was time for me to listen, to learn, to appreciate and consider solutions to the challenge via whatever the opposite of naivety is.
Eventually the problem was solved, and to this day, I can’t even remember if it was solved effectively or not. All I can recall is that for a moment in time, I stopped being naïve. I acquiesced. I actually became something new and different, and surprisingly, the world marched on.
It was at that moment, however, that I decided to never again – for as long as I remained in my job . . . for as long as I worked with my colleagues . . . on any project . . . for any reason . . . to ever again stop being . . . naïve.
I figured out that naïve doesn’t mean impossible. It doesn’t mean eternally gullible. It isn’t just pie-in-the-sky thinking. It isn’t a calamity.
For me being naïve opens up doors to whatever is beautiful in the world. It means having the ability to look beyond what might seem unlikely and improbable – and to looks towards all that happens when people focus on all that is positive and possible. It is intentionally ignoring potential roadblocks and setbacks and everything that can and might stop great ideas from growing. It means shutting out negative energy and acting as if it does not exist. It means not only wearing rose-colored glasses, but to love putting them on.
So if in the future, you see me in a flying car or if I randomly teleport to your location, please thank the colleague who called me . . . naïve.
A line is a line . . . until it isn’t.
Deborah Hutti 