Wisdom Loading…

One icy morning, I saw a friend post on Facebook that they were driving from Moorhead to Hawley (about half an hour’s drive at 70 mph on a good day). On the drive, they saw someone in the ditch. My friend’s take-away was to post: “If you can’t handle it {the roads} then you should stay home. I know how to drive, and I was able to drive 70 (mph).”

 

Note: The speed limit on that road is 65 mph, which is meant for ideal driving conditions.

I was driving on the Interstate that same day. The plows hadn’t been through yet. I was going 35 mph in a 55 mph zone. There wasn’t anyone else on the road until someone appeared on the entrance ramp. There was so much space behind me they could have driven slowly and entered the freeway behind me. Alas, they wanted to enter the freeway in front of me, and as they were speeding up to get in front of me, the speed of the tires made them fishtail right in front of me. They literally spun around right in front of me and flew off into the ditch. I can’t believe I wasn’t injured. I just kept driving (slowly) as if nothing happened.

If I had been driving faster, I probably would have been caught up in their spinout. My friend from earlier may have thought that I couldn’t handle the road, even though it was the person that was entering the freeway at a ridiculous speed for the road conditions. It’s just so interesting to me because this person has been driving longer than I have (he’s older than me) and he still hasn’t figured out that sometimes the reason you end up in the ditch is not because you couldn’t handle the road. Things pop up in front of you. Other cars pull out in front of you when they shouldn’t. I bet my friend has pulled out in front of people when he shouldn’t. And I bet he doesn’t even recognize the danger he’s putting himself and others in.

 

To bring this back to dog training; sometimes we just don’t have the full picture. We may think we can handle something, only to find out later that it is way more complicated than we realized. But if we are too sure, in our word choices, we might alienate the people around us before we even know that we might need their help. If we pre-emptively or incidentally reveal ourselves to be unable to listen, empathize, or conceive of a world where our way isn’t the only way, we may not ever get to hear about experiences that differ from our own. When people hear that you’re sure of yourself, maybe a little judgmental, and have a different opinion, they may never reveal their reality to you.  
 
For example, I was chatting with a colleague about terminology, and our pet peeves about misuse of industry terms. This discussion prompted her to declare that “no trainer is allowed to call themselves a behavior consultant” (untrue – there are professional certifications for behavior consultants). I simply responded, “hmm” and never revealed that I hold one such certification, and am myself, a behavior consultant. I’ve also learned that I shouldn’t go to her for help with my job (I’m new here), because she has shown me that she will confidently say a thing without really making sure she knows the truth.  
 
Stay humble, friends. It’s the only way we can really learn about those around us.

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