dare to dream

Don't Gossip, and Give Positive Reviews

There are two ideas from Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project that I don't want to forget:  I hope you'll want to remember them too.

Don't Gossip (pg 156) -- When I'm completely fed up with someone or something, I want to vent.  For good reason.  Apart from the emotional release, Rubin explains, "gossip plays an important social role by reinforcing community values:  its makes people feel closer to each other, it unifies people who play by the rules, it helps people get a sense of the values of their community, and it exposes the misbehavior of others....but, it's not kind to do." 

"Another reason", she writes, "not to say critical things about other people is 'spontaneous trait transference.'  Because of this psychological phenomenon, people unintentionally transfer to me the traits I ascribe to other people.  If I tell Jean that Pat is arrogant, unconsciously Jean associates that quality with me.  On the other hand, if I say that Pat is brilliant or hilarious, I'm linked to those qualities.  What I say about people sticks to me."

Sometimes knowing it's unkind to gossip just isn't a strong enough reason not to.  Knowing about spontaneous trait transference pairs nicely with my more abstract and lofty goal of being kind.

2)  Give Positive Reviews (pg 268) -- "Studies show," Rubin writes, "that people who are critical are often perceived to be more discerning...Another study shows that people tend to think that someone who criticizes them is smarter than they are.  Also, when a person disrupts a group's unanimity, he or she lessens its social power." 

She continues, "Although enthusiasm seems easy and undiscriminating, in fact, it's much harder to embrace something than to disdain it.  It's riskier...Enthusiasm is a form of social courage...Giving positive reviews requires humility...A willingness to be pleased requires modesty and even innocence..."

Intuitively I think I knew this, but couldn't articulate that giving negative reviews is a means of gaining power.  Nor did I realize that I sometimes purposely seek out negative reviewers.  I'm not alone.  How many of the contestants on American Idol especially valued praise from Simon "everything-is-a-power-play" Cowell?

Here's a real-life example.  Last year, I worked with Claudyne Wilder on a speech I had to give.  When someone asked if she was good, I started to say - "oh, she's ok."  Which wasn't true.  She was actually terrific.  Under her "positive reviews" tutelage, I made HUGE strides. Why, then, the initial lukewarm response?  Because she didn't have a need to show me how smart she was by criticizing me.  As the research would have predicted, I almost dinged her for it.

There's so much more I could highlight from The Happiness Project, but these were two of my more important a-has.  It was an inspiring read in the tradition of Sarah Ban Breathnach's Simple Abundance.  (Thanks to Heather Bennion for recommending the book.) 

What are your thoughts?

Had you considered that when you say positive/negative things, the hearer transfers that trait to you?

Have you ever secretly derided enthusiasm, like I have, not recognizing it for what it is -- a form of social courage? 

Why is having the humility to give positive reviews so important in helping others achieve their dreams?

P.S. You'll be hearing a whole lotta "brilliant, witty and beautiful" going forward.  May these words stick to both you and me.

15 for 15: Kara DioGuardi

It's been a relief to have a female judge on American Idol with gravitas -- substance and style.

Kara DioGuardi, singer/songwriter/producer manager, grew up in New York, the daughter of a Republican Congressman, studied political science at Duke, planned to go to law school, but then took a job at Billboard Magazine selling advertising.  At one point, she had her own record deal, but it was as a songwriter that she's made it big. 

If (when?) I were to spend 15 minutes with Ms. DioGuardi, here's what I would ask her:

1.  You seem to have had many dreams.  Do you have just one dream?  Or has your dream changed over time?  How have you right-sized your dreams?  Or juggled them?

2.  Political science?  Law school?  How did you get from there to here?  How have your studies and interest in law informed your role as a songwriter/producer?

3.  You are expressive and articulate.  Kind, but direct.  Surprisingly direct for a woman.  Were you always comfortable saying what you want to say? Why?

4.  You've indicated that becoming invisible is an important part of collaborating, to helping a singer write the right song.  How do you do this?  Now that you are a household name, how has the collaborative process changed?

5.  In my '15 for 15' series, I recently interviewed Shane Battier, a fellow Duke alum, who has been described as Lego:  when he's on the court, things magically work.  Is this true of you?  Is there any part of what you do that is integral to the songwriting process, but other's don't seem to recognize or even value it?

6.  Because of your American Idol gig, you are a 'kingmaker turned king'.  In dare to dream parlance, you've shifted from hero of support to hero.  What about this toggle has been a boon?  A bane?

7.  What does your dare to dream team look like?  Who are the 2-3 people that have been crucial to your success and why were they so important?

What would you ask her?

Related posts:

• Fly me to the moon
• American Idol:  Which Judge Are You?
• Fielding a 'dare to dream' team
• A hero of support

 

There's Something About Susan

Hear, hear to all of you that sent me the clip of Susan Boyle. Some have said that Simon Cowell staged this. I wouldn't put it past him. But does it matter? Either way Susan Boyle took a risk.

 

If the heckling she experienced in this seven-minute clip is any gauge, Susan's been dealing with naysayers all her life.  At 47, that's a lot of naysaying.

Yet, there she was -- and is -- out on stage.

Daring to dream.

 ***

Janika Dillon was kind enough to share her thoughts with me in real-time.  Here's her take:

Susan Boyle is so ordinary-looking--and well past the age of most up-and-coming stars, yet she totally knocked their socks off!  How many amazing talents are hidden behind average looks, age, and 'small villages'.  Though who knows what will ever happen with her singing, she had the courage to try out for the show, get on the stage, and do what she does best.

The audience was horrible to heckle her, but I guess that's the reality when striving for a dream for which we don't look the part.  We may be 'too old', 'too busy with young children', 'too inexperienced', 'too poor'. Some of these things we can change, many we cannot.  The quest is to accept our plight, determine if it is still worth trying for the dream, and then navigate our way through the obstacles.

I know a woman in her early 50s out West who is getting a doctorate in clinical psychology. She is amazingly talented and would make an incredible psychologist.  Unfortunately she has received little support from the faculty, while enduring many unkind comments about her age.  Nor did she get an offer for an internship even though she applied and interviewed throughout the country.

In casting about for a way to help decision makers look past her age and see her abilities, she finally decides to rely on her extensive social network.  After a month of calls, visits and e-mails, my friend landed one of the country's most prestigious internships.  She is thrilled to have her chance on the stage, and I think she will be prove just as effective (if not more so) as her younger colleagues.

Thank you Janika for guest-posting on the fly; I look forward to many more posts.

What did you think?

Why did Susan Boyle move you?

Click here to read what Boston Globe reporter Michael Paulson had to say.

American Idol: Which judge are you?

Simon, Paula, Randy.

Each of the American Idol judges has an idiosyncratic approach to critiquing the contestants.

Let's start with Randy.

Randy -- Randy likes to remind both the contestants and the audience of his stature as a producer/musician. Expertise is important, but in telling the contestant that they weren't as good as Mariah, Whitney et al. all of whom he's played with, the critique tends to be more about Randy than the contestant.

Paula -- Paula gives compliments, lots of them. But because her need to be liked is so palpable, she seems to give to get. This only serves to further discount her already discounted opinion -- because she's a woman we expect her to say something nice. Not to mention her often muddled thoughts.

Simon -- Simon gives it to the contestants straight up. They know it and we know it and so we trust and value his opinion. Could he be more kind? Absolutely. Is he any less self-interested than Paula or Randy? Probably not.

But in this single moment -- when the judges must give feedback to the contestants -- providing his honest opinion, and thus maintaining his integrity supersedes asserting his stature or being loved. Ironically, he has become the 'biggest hitter' and most 'beloved' of the three.

I know that it is unfair to reduce people to a single trait or characteristic, but if we consider these judges as archetypes, here's the question:

When our husband, daughter, son, friends, co-workers share their dreams with us, haven't they figuratively just sung, and are now waiting for our critique?

If they are dreaming big, do we applaud them? Or do we tell them them we're not sure that they can realize their goal so as to shore up our own self-esteem? Regardless of why we discourage them, is our commentary more about us than them?

Or, are we so eager to be loved, especially as parents, that we aren't willing to be honest. And thus, over time, we are eroding the value of our opinion? For women, finding the balance between being supportive and 'keeping it real' is especially difficult.

Or do we honor others by giving our honest assessment? With love, mind you -- Simon could use a little more love.

There's probably a bit of Randy, Paula and Simon in all of us, depending on who we're interacting with, how we're feeling about ourselves on a particular day, but in general, who do we need more of?

And who do you need more of in your life?

P.S. A conversation with my friend Mike Kopelman inspired this post. Thanks Mike!

Related posts:
Why we love American Idol
Learning to 'Let it Be'
Rachel, Leah and 'So You Think You Can Dance?'
Et tu, Whitney?
Tie-dye, daughters and dreams

Learning to 'Let it Be'

I was so disappointed by Brooke White's performance last night on American Idol.

After her amazing rendition of 'Let it Be' in early March, she's gone on to have two pretty bad weeks.

Contrast Brooke to David Cook.  After he was roundly criticized by the judges, David went right on picking the right song, the right arrangement.

Why is Brooke, in my opinion, having difficulty?

Because she's giving her power away to the judges.

In the article Do Women Lack Ambition?, Cornell psychologist Anna Fels writes that our cultural ideals of femininity do not include women asking for resources, whether those resources involve time, money, praise.

Until last night, I hadn't considered the possibility that power was a resource.

Yet in trusting the judges more than herself, Brooke has given away her power.

And David Cook hasn't.

Men generally don't.

They listen -- Yes -- but they also seem to do a better job of trusting themselves.

We can learn from them.

Because when we do trust ourselves, we move to the center of our story, becoming the hero....

Like Brooke did when she sang Let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

P.S.  If you want to read some great commentary by vocal coach Macy Robison on each week's American Idol, click here.

Related posts:
Asking for what we want
NY Times:  For Girls, It's Be Yourself...
Why we love American Idol
Doolittle's Leah leave the building
Finding our reality in Reality TV

Parenting and the hero's journey

My friend's daughter will go away to college next year.

Her daughter is bright, hard-working, well-rounded, and could have gone pretty much anywhere, but elected to go to Brigham Young University (my alma mater, by the way), a university that many would consider a second-tier 'safety' school.

The decision has been tough for both.

For Daughter, because she wants Mom to be proud, and the 'safety' school wasn't Mom's first choice.

Source: Growing, Growing by Ashley G

For Mom -- for all moms -- I wonder if it's tough because we are afraid, feel fear?

The fear that we inevitably feel at the start of a hero's journey as we prepare to walk through the unknown?

Except that when it's our children, not us, the fear is heightened because we desperately want them to become more of who they are, and yet we realize that because it is their journey, not ours, we are supposed to be bystanders.

And could it be that this fear makes it nearly impossible for parents not to try and tell their children where to go, what to be?

Knowing my friend and her daughter, had Mom insisted, required, even simply asked Daughter to go to a different school, Daughter would have.

Mom wanted to ask -- oh, how she wanted to.

But she didn't.

She instead courageously walked into her unknown, so that her daughter can walk into hers, and be the hero of her story.

In this unknown, Daughter -- and Mom too -- will no doubt find more of who they are.

Why else might it be difficult to send our children off on their journey?

Could it be possible that our children have become our dream keepers, and so we've become attached to a specific outcome for their lives -- Do you remember the NY Times article about Esther Mobley, and Susan Minot's Evening?

Why does allowing our children to walk through their unknown, allow us to walk through ours?

Unlike American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance, America's Got Talent opens up auditions to a broad array of talent, from animal trainers to stilt walkers, and welcomes both solo acts and ensembles.

But here's what's interesting.

All four finalists are solo acts.

And...

All four are singers.

Yup.

Despite a wide variety of acts that the judges purposely placed in the top twenty -- the voting/dialing/push-buttoning audience has chosen a fairly homogeneous group of finalists -- four singing soloists.

While it is probably true that American Idol has influenced how we vote, there is something much larger at play with America's Got Talent, and all reality TV.

Each is a hero's journey. Each involves thousands hoping to be called to adventure. And as we watch, and participate by voting, we begin to feel that we are on the journey as well.

But we can't be on the journey, unless we can identify with the contestants, and so we find ourselves drawn to and voting for solo acts, rather than ensembles, to people who talk/sing/beat box to us, rather than those who don't. When the contestants speak to us, we can connect with them, and find our voice, even as they find theirs.

We've talked about this before, so now let's analyze the idea further.

Will you quickly listen to the YouTube clips of the four finalists for America's Got Talent?

Who do you identify with?

Terry Fator, Butterscotch, Cas Haley or Julienne Irwin?

Why?

I identify with Terry Fator.

And I'll tell you why, as soon as I ask you this question -- When I say that I identify with him, does that mean that I want to become a ventriloquist, that I want to see him perform live, or join his fan club?

Perhaps.

But because I want to be the hero of my story -- and for you to be the hero of yours -- rather than focusing on the who, I want to focus on the specifics of the why.

And, my gander of a guess is this.

Terry Fator is a man who's been perfecting his craft for decades, laboring in obscurity, wondering on many occasions if he shouldn't just pack up his puppets and go home.

I too sometimes feel that I work very, very hard at whatever I'm working on, and it isn't necessarily acknowledged or valued. And I too want to pack up my puppets, as it were, and go home.

But, Terry Fator didn't pack up and go home. And given how very capable and competent he is, how happy we are that he didn't.

Which is when I begin to wonder -- am I -- are you -- competent and capable too? Far more than we know?

And with that wondering comes a slice of hope.

Delicious and delightful hope.

Who do you admire at the moment? Why?

I can't wait for you to hear 6 year-old Connie Talbot singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

Yes, you'll hear the lyrics the dreams that you 'dare to dream' really do come true, but more importantly, this darling little girl reminds us that we are Rachel.

For those of you not familiar with the biblical story of Rachel and Leah, Rachel is the younger and more beautiful sister who vies for and wins the heart of Jacob. However, because ancient custom required the elder sister marry first, Jacob pays the price of marrying Leah (who also loves Jacob) in order to marry Rachel.

While most young girls would align themselves with Rachel, believing their dreams will come true, most women have come to believe they are Leah, adopting an attitude of acquiescence, taking what is handed to us.

But here's the rub.

To achieve our dreams, Leah's got to leave the building so that Rachel can move in.

Who better to help us remember we are Rachel, both generous of spirit AND capable, than the young girls in our lives?

Melinda was voted off of American Idol this week.

But that's beside the point.

Do you remember how timid she was at her audition?

If you don't, you can watch it on YouTube.

Then listen to and compare her performance of I'm a Woman after she was voted off.

The transformation is striking, isn't it?

In screwing up her courage and saying "It's my story. I'm going to be the hero," Doolittle's Leah has not only left the building, she ain't comin' back.

Because that's what happens when we dare to dream.

I freely admit it.

I love watching American Idol; I've even blogged about Melinda Doolittle.

But the fact is, my love of American Idol isn't novel or newsworthy; I'm one of 30 million plus.

So here's what I want to know:

Why do I -- why do WE -- love American Idol?

Because it's a hero's journey.

Right before our eyes we see hundreds of thousands hoping to be called to adventure, to be chosen to go on a hero's journey, and to obtain the boon. As we watch (and participate by voting), we find pieces of ourselves mirrored in the contestants, feeling as if we too are on the hero's journey.

Which is one of the reasons that Melinda Doolittle has become the frontrunner.

Sure, she can sing, she can really sing. Whether "My Funny Valentine" or "I'm a Woman", Melinda has unexpectedly moved us. Yet, she doesn't seem to know how good she is.

And so we begin to wonder, if Melinda doesn't know how talented she is, maybe we don't know how magnificent we are.

And if seemingly all-powerful Simon has discovered her, maybe we too will be discovered.

And, most especially, if Melinda, even with her quirks, can be called to adventure, and possibly obtain the boon, maybe we, with our own quirks, can be chosen too.

And isn't that a longing we all have?

Do you agree? Why or why not?

P.S. Whether Melinda wins American Idol or not, she will have been successful. By conquering her fear and insecurity, she chose to move to the center of her own life -- to be the hero of her story.

P.P.S. Our desire to be the one called to adventure (the chosen one) also explains why I was disappointed when I wasn't selected to go on Oprah's Miraval week, no matter how deserving those selected are. Just take a look at the story of Jennifer West.

Yes, in sending in the pOstcard I chose to be the hero of my story. But that longing we have for the spotlight to alight on us, to be chosen -- it runs deep!

Finding our Reality in reality TV

Unlike American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance, America's Got Talent opens up auditions to a broad array of talent, from animal trainers to stilt walkers, and welcomes both solo acts and ensembles.

But here's what's interesting.

All four finalists are solo acts.

And...

All four are singers.

Yup.

Despite a wide variety of acts that the judges purposely placed in the top twenty -- the voting/dialing/push-buttoning audience has chosen a fairly homogeneous group of finalists -- four singing soloists.

While it is probably true that American Idol has influenced how we vote, there is something much larger at play with America's Got Talent, and all reality TV.

Each is a hero's journey. Each involves thousands hoping to be called to adventure. And as we watch, and participate by voting, we begin to feel that we are on the journey as well.

But we can't be on the journey, unless we can identify with the contestants, and so we find ourselves drawn to and voting for solo acts, rather than ensembles, to people who talk/sing/beat box to us, rather than those who don't. When the contestants speak to us, we can connect with them, and find our voice, even as they find theirs.

We've talked about this before, so now let's analyze the idea further.

Will you quickly listen to the YouTube clips of the four finalists for America's Got Talent?

Who do you identify with?

Terry Fator, Butterscotch, Cas Haley or Julienne Irwin?

Why?

I identify with Terry Fator.

And I'll tell you why, as soon as I ask you this question -- When I say that I identify with him, does that mean that I want to become a ventriloquist, that I want to see him perform live, or join his fan club?

Perhaps.

But because I want to be the hero of my story -- and for you to be the hero of yours -- rather than focusing on the who, I want to focus on the specifics of the why.

And, my gander of a guess is this.

Terry Fator is a man who's been perfecting his craft for decades, laboring in obscurity, wondering on many occasions if he shouldn't just pack up his puppets and go home.

I too sometimes feel that I work very, very hard at whatever I'm working on, and it isn't necessarily acknowledged or valued. And I too want to pack up my puppets, as it were, and go home.

But, Terry Fator didn't pack up and go home. And given how very capable and competent he is, how happy we are that he didn't.

Which is when I begin to wonder -- am I -- are you -- competent and capable too? Far more than we know?

And with that wondering comes a slice of hope.

Delicious and delightful hope.

Who do you admire at the moment? Why?

Connie Talbot: A Rachel reminder

I can't wait for you to hear 6 year-old Connie Talbot singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

Yes, you'll hear the lyrics the dreams that you 'dare to dream' really do come true, but more importantly, this darling little girl reminds us that we are Rachel.

For those of you not familiar with the biblical story of Rachel and Leah, Rachel is the younger and more beautiful sister who vies for and wins the heart of Jacob. However, because ancient custom required the elder sister marry first, Jacob pays the price of marrying Leah (who also loves Jacob) in order to marry Rachel.

While most young girls would align themselves with Rachel, believing their dreams will come true, most women have come to believe they are Leah, adopting an attitude of acquiescence, taking what is handed to us.

But here's the rub.

To achieve our dreams, Leah's got to leave the building so that Rachel can move in.

Who better to help us remember we are Rachel, both generous of spirit AND capable, than the young girls in our lives?

Doolittle's Leah leaves the building

Melinda was voted off of American Idol this week.

But that's beside the point.

Do you remember how timid she was at her audition?

If you don't, you can watch it on YouTube.

Then listen to and compare her performance of I'm a Woman after she was voted off.

The transformation is striking, isn't it?

In screwing up her courage and saying "It's my story. I'm going to be the hero," Doolittle's Leah has not only left the building, she ain't comin' back.

Because that's what happens when we dare to dream.

Why we love American Idol

I freely admit it.

I love watching American Idol; I've even blogged about Melinda Doolittle.

But the fact is, my love of American Idol isn't novel or newsworthy; I'm one of 30 million plus.

So here's what I want to know:

Why do I -- why do WE -- love American Idol?

Because it's a hero's journey.

Right before our eyes we see hundreds of thousands hoping to be called to adventure, to be chosen to go on a hero's journey, and to obtain the boon. As we watch (and participate by voting), we find pieces of ourselves mirrored in the contestants, feeling as if we too are on the hero's journey.

Which is one of the reasons that Melinda Doolittle has become the frontrunner.

Sure, she can sing, she can really sing. Whether "My Funny Valentine" or "I'm a Woman", Melinda has unexpectedly moved us. Yet, she doesn't seem to know how good she is.

And so we begin to wonder, if Melinda doesn't know how talented she is, maybe we don't know how magnificent we are.

And if seemingly all-powerful Simon has discovered her, maybe we too will be discovered.

And, most especially, if Melinda, even with her quirks, can be called to adventure, and possibly obtain the boon, maybe we, with our own quirks, can be chosen too.

And isn't that a longing we all have?

Do you agree? Why or why not?

P.S. Whether Melinda wins American Idol or not, she will have been successful. By conquering her fear and insecurity, she chose to move to the center of her own life -- to be the hero of her story.

P.P.S. Our desire to be the one called to adventure (the chosen one) also explains why I was disappointed when I wasn't selected to go on Oprah's Miraval week, no matter how deserving those selected are. Just take a look at the story of Jennifer West.

Yes, in sending in the pOstcard I chose to be the hero of my story. But that longing we have for the spotlight to alight on us, to be chosen -- it runs deep!