During the week between Christmas and New Year’s day, my wife and I went to the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina. Near the end of the day, we stopped in one of the gift shops, and we found the plaque shown in the picture with this post. We immediately loved it, and I knew that it would become the object of a series of posts inspired by the message on it. This is the first of those posts.

Accept differences. What a simple, yet powerful concept.

By accept differences, I do not mean tolerance. I have already written about why I don’t want to be a tolerant person.

When I say accept differences, I mean that I see the power in understanding how other people develop thoughts and feelings about certain topics that are different from my thoughts and feelings without lapsing into criticism, condemnation, and moral judgment about them as human beings.

As I see it, accept differences means that I can…

• Accept the person even when I do not accept his ideas, thoughts, and beliefs
  
• Be friendly, cordial, and respectful despite our different viewpoints
• Work with someone to solve a problem even when we disagree about issues unrelated to the problem we are solving.

One day recently, my wife told a teenage girl that she disagreed with the teenager’s choice and the teenager replied: “Mrs. Harris, don’t be hatin’.”

Does disagreement really have to imply hate?

I do not think that my disagreement with a persons behaviors or choices means that I hate her, and I don’t believe that a person hates me simply because she disagrees with me.

Accept differences.

This week, I traveled to Boston to lead a Bud To Boss Workshop for first time supervisors. On my return trip, I connected with a flight in Chicago.

I ran between gates to catch the flight to Indianapolis only to wait at the gate because this flight — like the one I had just taken from Boston to Chicago — was delayed.

Upon boarding the plane, I settled into my seat beside a nice young woman who was also connecting on this flight, and I made a comment about the commuter jet we were on not being built to accommodate people of my height. She replied with a soft laugh, and we struck up a conversation that lasted until we landed in Indianapolis.

During the conversation, I learned that she had gone to school in Indiana and that she now lived out-of-state as a result of her husband’s job. I also learned that through her husband she knew a fairly prominent public figure, and I asked a question about this person’s public versus private persona’s. She responded kindly. I acknowledged her response, and the conversation took another turn.

Seeing each other again at baggage claim, we waved and said good-bye. I enjoyed our conversation and the opportunity to meet this rather interesting person.

My wife picked me up, and I told her about the nice young woman I had met on the plane. Arriving at home, my wife went to bed, and I stayed up a bit to unwind from the trip.

While I checked my email, I began to get curious about the full connection between the person I met and the prominent public figure. With less than two minutes of searching on Google, I learned that she was the prominent figure’s daughter-in-law.

Reflecting on our conversation, I was really happy that I had not said anything derogatory, negative, or judgmental about her father-in-law. Like many public figures, he has a strong personality that can create both strong allies and strong detractors, and it would be easy to pass judgment on him as a person because of his public persona.

In the days that have passed since my interchange on the plane with a person I will likely never see again, I am pleased that I both remembered and followed advice I received long ago:

You never know what the person you just met may have experienced or who they might know. So, just be nice.

As I sat in her American Literature class listening to a discussion of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s classic The Scarlet Letter, her teacher questioned the virtue of tolerance. In his brief comment on the topic, he referenced a talk he once heard by Elie Wiesel.

Elie Wiesel survived the concentration camps and Jewish persecution of World War II. On the day that my daughter’s teacher heard Wiesel speak, another member of the audience asked how he could be so tolerant of other people after all of the hardships he had endured. In his reply, Elie said that he used to try to be tolerant, and that he eventually realized that in his tolerance he was making himself better than other people. So, he now just wanted to understand.

Amen.

I often hear people speak of tolerance as if it is a high virtue. I acknowledge that tolerating someone is better than annihilating them, and I still don’t want to be a tolerant person. Like Elie Wiesel, I want to understand.

I’ll explain my reasoning by using some definitions from Dictionary.com.

Tolerant

1. inclined or disposed to tolerate; showing tolerance; forbearing: tolerant of errors.

In order to be tolerant, I must learn to tolerate.

Tolerate

1. to allow the existence, presence, practice, or act of without prohibition or hindrance; permit.
2. to endure without repugnance; put up with: I can tolerate laziness, but not incompetence.

When I look at these definitions, I see what Elie Wiesel spoke of in his answer. When I tolerate another person, I permit their existence. I endure their presence. When I permit someone’s perspective, I place myself in a superior position to them. When I endure something, I probably find it distasteful, painful, or annoying in some way.

I don’t want to permit other people to have their views. I don’t want to endure their presence. I don’t want to be tolerant.

Rather, I want to understand.

Understand

1. to perceive the meaning of; grasp the idea of; comprehend: to understand Spanish; I didn’t understand your question.
2. to be thoroughly familiar with; apprehend clearly the character, nature, or subtleties of: to understand a trade.

For example, my wife has a “female” view of the world and I have a “male” view of the world. These different perspectives often create different interpretations of events.

I want to live in peace with my wife. I want to live and work with her in a way that allows both of us to be happy with the relationship.

If I learn to tolerate her perspective, I will always carry a subtle judgment of it. I will permit her to be different. (As if she needed my permission.)

If, instead of tolerating her, I learn to understand her, I can live and work with her without the feeling that I am enduring something unpleasant. I can start to see and value what she sees.

In the realm of workplace conflict resolution, this concept applies equally well. When we tolerate other people, we are, in effect, judging them. We are filtering their views and perspectives in a way that says we permit them to exist. (Again, like they need our permission.)

When we understand people, we let go of the judgment, and we start to see people more clearly. We lower the filters and pretense that tend to mark tolerant relationships.

So, I don’t want to be a tolerant person. I want to be an understanding one.