I don’t pretend to be an authority on interpersonal relationship….but I do have a theory or two. And this week, as I watched one argument after another appear on the television in front of me…I just kept saying over and over----This isn’t personal. Why can’t people disconnect their feelings in matters when they don’t agree and merely argue the key points…..without emotion?
It ain’t personal. Don’t call someone stupid because they don’t share your opinion.
It never was personal between then House Speaker Tip O’Neil and President Ronald Reagan. O’Neil and Reagan sparred from sun up to sun down. But after 6:00 p.m…..they got along. O’Neil once called Reagan “Herbert Hoover with a smile,” a clear reference to the Republican President who was in the White House at the start of the Great Depression.
For his part, Reagan was pretty tough on O’Neil too. He once said he got a Valentine from the Speaker on February 14th. He said he knew it was from O’Neil because the heart on the front of the card was bleeding.
At a 1986 dinner, Reagan said of O’Neil----"Our friendship is testimony to the political system that we're part of and the country we live in, a country which permits two not-so-shy and not-so-retiring Irishmen to have it out on the issues rather than on each other or their countrymen."
Not a bad model. It wasn’t ever personal.
I often have to tell people bad news. I’ve fired people from their jobs…..robbed them of their income. It is a horrible task. But I never do it out of personal spite. It was because it had to be done….nothing personal about it.
My most memorable story on this topic goes back to my first day as a college administrator. It was the first day of the semester and I was the new dean over liberal arts. My first call came from Staunton, Illinois where a man identified himself as an adult student taking a course at the local high school. He was very upset.
“Dean, I think you need to can the teacher…Mrs. Smith,” he said to me directly.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because she took two hours last night to explain the armistice that ended World War I,” he said.
“Why is that a bad idea?” I asked.
“Because this is a composition class,” he said. “She’s old and frail. She’s senile.”
After I hung up, I asked my new secretary to give me Mrs. Smith’s file.
My God, I gasped when I opened it. She was 84 years old. I called some friends I knew in Staunton and they confirmed that Mrs. Smith was a 25-year retiree that simply stayed under the radar as an adjunct instructor for three decades and definitely had a few problems with dementia. Nobody complained because she had given out A’s for thirty years,
So, on my second day on the job, I started to head out to Staunton to “let her go.”
I stopped by Mr. Klein’s store in Bethalto where a coffee clatch of locals would entertain one another to start their days.
I cradled my coffee and sat in front of Ed Mense, the local owner of a for-profit cemetery. He asked me what I was up to----and I responded-----“Goin’ to Staunton to fire an 84-year old woman.”
I’ll never forget his response.
“Dreith, we know you and your family,” he said. “Go saw her off at the knees.”
What a way to start my trip. I had called ahead to Mrs. Smith to introduce myself as the new dean and asked if I could stop by to meet her. Of course, she said.
I had to find her home about five miles north of Staunton. It was a small farm house and she met me at the door with cookies. She looked 94.
She asked what brought me up to Macoupin County?
Well, I said, there is a problem. I then very simply stated that I felt it was time for a change in Staunton. She didn’t need to teach English anymore for us.
For an elderly lady….she was very passionate about her firing. It became very personal….and no matter how I tried to explain why this had to be…..she kept up her attack.
Finally, I decided this was getting nowhere.
I said, “I’m sorry. I have made my decision. Thank you for your service. It is time for me to go.”
I walked outside…got into my car….and turned the key. Nothing. The car was dead. She was watching and holding her cookies while standing in the door.
“Please God…make this car start,” I begged the Almighty.
I was not going back in that house.
And I can’t be sure it was God-----or simply the fact that I had a hit-and-miss starter------ but the car finally started. And I was on my way back to the office.
She called countless people….The matter made the Staunton newspaper….”Mrs. Smith released by college”….and students who had been in her classes for fifty years sent her roses…..and me hate-mail.
It was one of the most memorable days in my life. And through it all, I just kept telling myself. This isn’t personal. People who pay tuition to learn grammar deserve to hear about sentence structure….not German reparations.
This story floods back into my mind every time I hear a personal political attack launched by a liberal on a conservative….or visa versa.
Tip and the Gipper were able to do it after hours. They couldn’t agree on much of anything……except this—
To them, it was never personal.
Maybe we would all be served if we remembered that the next time we couldn’t agree with someone.
Argue about ideas……never let it get personal. Oh, and one other thing-----
Make sure your vehicle is not in need of repair if you choose to fire someone at their home.
Just sayin…
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