Midwest Memo
Roadside perspective
by Alan Shultz

Editor's note: Alan Shultz is on vacation this week. This column first ran in the Comet in August 2004.

Black plastic bags dotted the gravel shoulder of I-65 this morning as I pulled the car out onto the highway just past the town of Wolcott. The sun was busy at work burning off a thick white fog and the highway scape included a decidedly moist looking gray pavement. The grass in the meridian and on the shoulders caught my eye. It was a healthy, pleasing green, far greener than I remember for late August, more trimmed and tended looking, too.

Years ago, coming upon a similar scene, I cursed the litterbug who had fiendishly tossed his garbage in bags left in groupings on the side of the road. I pictured this fellow with a big pick-up truck, maybe a helper or two in the back. In the dark of night they cruised slowly along the shoulder emptying their load for free, rather than paying the fee at the dump. But mine was the curse and imagination of a man ignorant of the pertinent facts. And I gladly accepted that label when someone clued me in to the actual truth of the situation. The black bags represented the work product of roadside cleaning efforts by either volunteer or hired workers. The final step in the clean-up process had yet to happen.

My perspective changed when I learned the truth about those black garbage bags seemingly scattered along the side of the road. And so now I look at the same scene, but I look with different eyes. The scene never altered, only my take on it did.

In his book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, author Steven Covey includes a great illustration of the power of perspective. A simple black and white pencil drawing fills the page of this particular illustration.

I used this illustration once in teaching an adult Sunday School class. Just as it was designed to do, the drawing created an immediate division among the members of the class. Upon first viewing, some saw the depiction of a beautiful lady with a feathered hat. This woman had an elegant aura to her. Other students immediately saw the close-up of an old woman with harsh features and a stern countenance. This woman's aura was that of being unapproachable.

The picture being viewed by each student was the same. Some saw one thing, some saw another. With time, some of the students saw both. Everyone at the table saw the power of perspective.

Years ago I attended a workshop at Purdue for writers. One session was devoted to how to form a writers group.

Early in this session the moderator had someone read an essay they had written earlier. When the author was finished reading, the teacher posed the following question to the group: "What do you think?"

Somehow folks assumed that question meant we were to critique the essay just written. Now mind you, we didn't yet

know each other, we didn't

have common bonds other than attending this session.

The first person to speak tore into the piece. He was very critical of many things. He didn't understand this section, he didn't like that part. The next person to speak picked up where the first fellow left off. This word was wrong, that image was incomplete. The third person followed suit in the same critical tone.

It was brutal.

At this point the moderator interrupted us. To this day, I still wonder if the "tear it to pieces" critics were staged or spontaneous.

Now the moderator posed this question: "What if the author only wanted to know what you liked about the piece?"

Ouch.

The groups' perspective immediately changed and folks who had not yet spoken piped up with positive things they liked about the essay.

One simple question and our perspective changed from finding what was bad about something to finding what was good.

Oftentimes it is our perspective that colors how we see things. How fortunate then that we have the power to grow and change in that perspective.