We know binaries can be problematic. Even if our intention is to place something on a spectrum between two poles — introvert or extrovert; risk-averse or risk-embracing; early bird or night owl, etc., — we still frequently default to binaries. The binary I want to unpack here is the idea that some people love change (enjoying the newness of things, embracing something they haven’t tried before) and others prefer steadiness and consistency.

And while I’m sure it’s true that people have dispositional tendencies towards one of those ways of being, change happens to all of us, no matter where we fall on that continuum. So can someone who falls into the “consistency, please!” camp develop the dispositions of the change embracers?

I say this as a person who perceives herself to be a fan of change. I live in a city where I can eat in a different restaurant every day. I travel to new places with the intention of feeling that alien-ness. I like to grow out and then chop off my hair.

And then I moved.

Because I love change, I thought that I wouldn’t find moving to be as terrible as it’s perceived to be. Instead, it felt like an opportunity: New neighborhood! New couch! New coffee shops!

But also…new routine (still feels like I’m thinking about a lot of little things I didn’t need to think about before). New shower head (still haven’t sorted out how to turn it on without getting splashed with icy water). New grocery store (where’s my favorite yogurt?!).

This recent moving experience helped me develop stronger empathy for the faculty members I work with because more often than not, our conversations are about some type of change. I’ve always been aware of the fact that the people I work with might not be as change-happy as I am, but I took two key things away from my recent experience that I need to get better at practicing myself. I’m going to address one of those here and tackle the second in a future post.

Practice asking for, and accepting, help.

One of the ways to shorthand the role of instructional designers is to say that we “help teachers with their courses.” The problem is, that type of shorthand positions faculty as people in need of help, and no one relishes feeling that way.

Especially me! I will wander the aisles of a Home Depot for hours before asking for help or even accepting the help of the staff who explicitly ask if I need something. “No, thank you! I’m good!” I cheerfully reply, as I scan an aisle for the tenth time looking for extension cords. Until two weeks ago, when I went to Home Depot seeking these two specific types of screws that had vanished from my deadbolt kit, and I was so wrung out by that point that when an employee asked me if I needed help, I said yes and handed him the screws.

Guess what? Once we got to the overwhelming wall of screws, we discovered that this deadbolt apparently required some sort of unicorn screw that didn’t exist in the hundreds of options available in the store. If I hadn’t asked for help, I’d probably still be in that Home Depot, huddled in a corner clutching my (apparently) one-of-a-kind screws.

I love research professor Brené Brown because she’s so right about so many things, but I also cannot stand research professor Brené Brown because she tends to be right about things that make me gut-punchingly uncomfortable. And here’s one of them, from her Oprah’s Lifeclass:

“Here’s the bottom line,” Brown says. “Ready? When you cannot accept and ask for help without self-judgment, then when you offer other people help, you are always doing so with judgment.”

“Really?” Oprah asks.

“Always,” Brown says. “Because you have attached judgment to asking for help.” 

After I read this, I did what I always do with Brown’s work: I tried to refute it, and the more I tried, the more I couldn’t. Do I judge people who ask me for help? Certainly not! I really enjoy helping them; if I didn’t, I’d find a new job.

But when I’m in a complain-y mood, what do I tend to express frustration about? Often it’s the help colleagues are asking me for. It’s the email written in a moment of frustration that I allow to frustrate me. It’s the question asked for the fourth or fifth time, which should be prompting me to think of a better way to respond and is instead eliciting an out-loud sigh.

So if I want to truly empathize with those who don’t like change because it might require asking for help, I need to practice asking for help myself. Even if I love the service element of my job, I’m not going to be good at it until I invite others to assist me when I need it.

And I’m getting there! When a window at my new place leaked during a storm, I called a friend to bring over extra towels and give me second opinion on what might be causing the problem. A good first step.