The following exchange—taken from the 1987 film Raising Arizona—between prison inmate Hi (played by Nicolas Cage) and his parole board ranks high on my list of memorable dialogues:

Parole board chairman: They’ve got a name for people like you, Hi. That name is called “recidivism.” Repeat offender! Not a pretty name, is it, Hi?

Hi: No, sir. That’s one bonehead name, but that ain’t me anymore.

Parole board chairman: You’re not just telling us what we want to hear?

Hi: No, sir, no way.

Parole board member: ‘Cause we just want to hear the truth.

Hi: Well, then I guess I am telling you what you want to hear.

Parole board chairman: Boy, didn’t we just tell you not to do that?

Hi: Yes, sir.

Parole board chairman: Okay, then.

Like so much in life, this scene is funny because it reflects something true about human nature. The parole board is dubious of Hi’s claims to reform. They don’t see him as someone capable of making anything other than “bonehead” choices. Our perceptions of others, especially people we consider challenging or complex, inform our expectations of their behavior and abilities. You have probably read studies in which school administrators tell teachers their classes comprise either high- or low-achieving students. The teachers believe this assessment and set expectations commensurate with their perception of student capabilities. Though the classes are actually homogenous, as far as previous performance is concerned, the “high-achieving” students outperform the “low achievers.”

We are all prone to categorizing others. This person is stingy. That person is particular. In many respects we can’t help this, nor is there anything wrong with forming perceptions. How can we not? We can enhance the health of our personal and professional relationships by making these perceptions pliable. Doing so extends to others an opportunity to teach us. When we become students of others we allow them to clarify our perceptions. Our relationships are then more authentic because they are rooted in a more accurate understanding of the other.

I find the following thought experiment to be rewarding, especially in reference to my closest friends and family. Fresh aspects of their character and personality broaden and correct my previous perceptions. They are more real to me. I can relate with them in a way that is more authentic and enlivening. I encourage you to think of one person in your life whom you experience as particularly tricky and enigmatic, then:

1. Imagine this person looking you in the eye and saying, “How do you see me?”

2. Formulate an honest response. Go ahead and generalize like crazy. Wrap this person up in a box and assume for a moment this is accurate. Give your brain permission to think you’ve got this person figured out. What you are doing is creating an accurate assessment of your existing perception of this person.

3. Now brainstorm some alternate perceptions. Over-generalized perceptions don’t have room for exceptions. So hunt for them. To do this you have to swivel around the person to gain unique vantage points. In what settings might this person do something that would broaden your existing perception? Picture this person at home, in a car, in a garden, with a pet, on a plane. How might seeing them in these various settings help fill out your perceptions?

4. In the next week note the exceptions to your previous perceptions. You will have to look hard and not be derailed by the experiences that reinforce your original over-generalized perception. Fighting this tendency is your task. This can only enhance how you relate to, and enjoy, this individual.

Look for and expect others to surprise you. Extend to others the invitation to teach you truths about their character and personality. Grant them the freedom to not only correct existing perceptions, but also add new dimensions to your understanding.

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I was halfway through the class period when it happened. It was my fifth and last day with upperclassmen at a local high school. We were discussing sexual decisions, in particular the pros and cons of having sex at an early age versus the pros and cons of waiting.

The door opened and a girl entered who had not been present for any of the other four days. By looking at her I wondered if she was a proponent for some kind of minimalist clothing movement, for the distance from the hem of her skirt to the top of her tube-top couldn’t have been much more than 12 inches. She strutted passed me and sat at her desk.

A few moments later I posed to the class the question, “What are some reasons teens choose to have sex?” Without hesitation, though she hadn’t been present for any of the other discussions, the aforementioned girl raised her hand.

“Because it’s natural,” she said. Her tone was unmistakable. She wanted to skirmish. I recognized this and responded with a good deal of enthusiasm, “You’re absolutely right! Sex is as natural as breathing.” I went on to amplify the truth embedded in her statement: sex is natural. She wasn’t expecting this. She expected a fight. I think part of her hoped I would launch into a monologue about the risks of sex at an early age. Stunned, she sat quietly.

After this we discussed other reasons teens choose to have sex. We then explored the potential drawbacks to this decision. I just asked questions and facilitated discussion among the students.

Then I switched gears. “We’ve discussed the reasons why some teens have sex, and some of the potential drawbacks to that decision. But why would someone choose to wait for sex?”

The same girl raised her hand. I would be lying if I said I didn’t fasten a mental seat belt before calling on her.

In place of the venom that laced her previous statement there was stone-cold sobriety. “I think I would have more respect for myself,” she said. That was it. The room was quiet. I was stunned. I think a good number of her classmates were, as well.

I may never know whether this interaction created any lasting positive change in the life of this teen. But by honoring her statement, oppositional though it was, we didn’t get bogged down in resistance. This freed her to consider alternatives to her position. Had I increased the resistance she would have been stuck.

I’ve heard stories about hunters who discover the carcasses of two deer, their antlers locked together. Unable to separate themselves, the creatures eventually died a tragic, prolonged death. You and I do well not to lock horns with teens. Teens, like the girl in the class, will square up to us and invite us to resist them. Doing so would have devastating implications for our ability to create change.

Teens need to process their ideas. They need us to listen without reacting. Whenever possible, find the truth in a teen’s statement that you can support. You don’t have to agree with him or her in entirety. But by doing so in part you keep alive the conversation and make possible a deeper connection. What can happen in time is that we earn the right to share our valuable thoughts and opinions–and teens just might listen to what we say.

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You’ve probably heard someone say, usually in reference to a meeting he or she attended, that someone at the meeting “had an agenda.” But I don’t think this is exactly what we mean. Everyone has an agenda. We have a sense of what we would like to do, and perhaps a sense of order for how we would like these things to unfold. It is a rare situation in which we can honestly say we have no agenda.

But when we say someone “has an agenda,” we tend to mean that he or she has an idea of how he or she wants things to proceed to the exclusion of input from others. Though others are in the room, the person driving the agenda does not welcome or allow the opinions of these people to mold ideas or alter the course of the conversation. Questions in this setting are a sham, not an earnest solicitation for ideas.

We all cross over from knowing how we want things to go to insisting things go a particular way. When we begin to ramrod our agenda we begin to view others as obstacles. Their questions, suggestions, and comments are of little worth to us at best, gadflies at worst.

I took my four-year-old to the beach last summer for her birthday. My goal was to let my daughter lead our time. The following was my agenda:

1. We’re going to the beach.

2. We’re staying at the hotel where I made a reservation.

3. We’re returning the following afternoon.

I knew somewhere in there we would eat, sleep, play, and read. But I didn’t know when, where, or in what order. If these were business meeting agenda items, I would have succeeded in completing each one.

So on the way to the beach I asked her, “Do you want to check in to the hotel, or go to the beach?” At lunch I asked her what she felt like eating. After dinner I asked her what she wanted to do before it was time for bed. I didn’t have to ask very often. She was more than happy to voice her wishes. If ever she seemed at a loss for what to do, I offered some options. I can’t say I succeeded in reaching my goal with perfection. There were many times I so wanted to do something other than what she wanted. I could feel the heat of my own volition rising to the surface. I was mostly successful in curbing these desires. My hope was that, over the course of a couple days dedicated exclusively to daughter-dad time, my child would sense the profound respect I have for her and her abilities. She is not “in my way,” and therefore not an obstacle to my agenda.

I grieve to think of the times I’ve treated my children and others as barriers to my objectives. We cross the line when we say, “my agenda ought to also be your agenda.” We take a figurative stapler and attach the agenda to another person’s chest. “There,” we say, “this is what you’ll be doing.” We are saying without equivocation, “I know what you want to do, but if I honor that it will detract from what I have planned.”

But we learn best when we can ask questions, raise associations no matter how oblique, and know there will be another there to help us make sense of it all. Many raise the concern that where boundaries are too vague, people wander. This is true. Boundaries are important. But keep in mind that where purpose drives direction there is no need for establishing rigid boundaries. Everyone knows where we’re going. Straying to the right or left isn’t an option. But what we want is the freedom to sort out what we view through the window.

Try this in a conversation, a meeting, or while teaching. Determine the entry point for the topic, have a sense of where you’d like to finish, but leave the process open for others to enter with their own ideas. I’ve conducted weekend retreats in this manner. This is still how I form agendas, or what I prefer to call “items for our conversation.” Everyone knows what we we’re doing and what we hope to accomplish. I intentionally leave the content open-ended so that everyone can contribute toward driving the time. Leaving agendas open creates a vacuum into which human creativity and brilliance can enter. This will make for much more meaningful, enjoyable and fruitful interactions.

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