I think I’ve always been curious about people. Even as a child, I was interested in what they think and what goes on inside their heads. College intensified this curiosity through my studies in psychology; the more I learned about what made people tick, the more curious I became. People were so interesting. And then something happened a couple years after college that made a permanent adjustment to my curiosity about people.
I was working in a student mentoring organization, and a student on a leadership team was being a huge problem, exuding negativity to the point of being toxic. I thought I was going to have to give an ultimatum.
But I’d been reading First, Break All the Rules, a management book, and one day it dawned on me that the student’s problem wasn’t about having a bad day or having a rough week; it was about the way this person was naturally wired to think and behave. I was having problems with who this student was as a person.
That made me wonder: “Could I find a way to set this student loose to just be exactly who she is, where she’d be celebrated, not criticized, for her nature?”
I suddenly realized that I’d gotten something wrong: at the core, this student wasn’t naturally negative, but naturally strategic. Without even trying, she just saw all the options, all the angles, all the obstacles. So I appointed the student to a new role—something like “Chief Strategist”—and it revolutionized the relationship between the student and the rest of us.
That experience was like looking at a drop of pond water under a microscope for the first time. A whole new exciting world opened up to me. Looking through the microscope, I saw how people are made up of natural quirks and impulses, natural ways of thinking and acting that shape how they engage in the world. People don’t try to think and act in these ways; they just do. My problem-student turned Chief Strategist didn’t have to intentionally look for alternative courses of action or weak spots in a plan; it’s just what she saw when she looked out at the world. How does that happen? How did she become someone who can do that? And where does someone like that fit? Where can that natural tendency become a powerful asset?
There are all sorts of instinctual ways of thinking, like being analytical or decisive or empathetic. There are quirks that cause some people to focus on new possibilities and cause others to focus on the present moment. Without consciously choosing to do so, some people assert their wills while others look for common ground with others.
Like those invisible, one-cell organisms that support earth’s ecosystems, these impulses exist in us at a raw and fundamental level, supporting everything else that happens on the surface. When you take away the degrees and job titles and accomplishments, the intentions to perform in certain ways and the social rules that mold our behavior, what you’re left with are the basic, natural, and unique ways people think and act. And most importantly, these instincts can sometimes be a problem and sometimes be a great strength.
I’m curious about these natural ways of thinking and behaving, and about how they can be harnessed into strengths. But this curiosity isn’t just something that scratches an itch. It’s also a tool that helps discover value in others—and not just generally, like in the sense that all people are valuable, but also specifically, because each person has a unique combination of instincts and therefore has the potential to impact the world uniquely.
I don’t always choose to practice this curiosity. Sometimes I choose to be close-minded instead of curious. When I do, I become a lesser version of the person I want to be, and I think less of people than I want to. I judge them, size them up, decide they need to be different, dismiss them for not being who I think they should be.
But when I do choose to practice curiosity about people, when I look under the microscope and ask, “In what ways could this person’s most natural tendencies become a great gift to the world?” — when I ask this, I’m filled with wonder, and everywhere I look are great gifts.
David Choi, North Carolina
Student of Learning
I was working in a student mentoring organization, and a student on a leadership team was being a huge problem, exuding negativity to the point of being toxic. I thought I was going to have to give an ultimatum.
But I’d been reading First, Break All the Rules, a management book, and one day it dawned on me that the student’s problem wasn’t about having a bad day or having a rough week; it was about the way this person was naturally wired to think and behave. I was having problems with who this student was as a person.
That made me wonder: “Could I find a way to set this student loose to just be exactly who she is, where she’d be celebrated, not criticized, for her nature?”
I suddenly realized that I’d gotten something wrong: at the core, this student wasn’t naturally negative, but naturally strategic. Without even trying, she just saw all the options, all the angles, all the obstacles. So I appointed the student to a new role—something like “Chief Strategist”—and it revolutionized the relationship between the student and the rest of us.
That experience was like looking at a drop of pond water under a microscope for the first time. A whole new exciting world opened up to me. Looking through the microscope, I saw how people are made up of natural quirks and impulses, natural ways of thinking and acting that shape how they engage in the world. People don’t try to think and act in these ways; they just do. My problem-student turned Chief Strategist didn’t have to intentionally look for alternative courses of action or weak spots in a plan; it’s just what she saw when she looked out at the world. How does that happen? How did she become someone who can do that? And where does someone like that fit? Where can that natural tendency become a powerful asset?
There are all sorts of instinctual ways of thinking, like being analytical or decisive or empathetic. There are quirks that cause some people to focus on new possibilities and cause others to focus on the present moment. Without consciously choosing to do so, some people assert their wills while others look for common ground with others.
Like those invisible, one-cell organisms that support earth’s ecosystems, these impulses exist in us at a raw and fundamental level, supporting everything else that happens on the surface. When you take away the degrees and job titles and accomplishments, the intentions to perform in certain ways and the social rules that mold our behavior, what you’re left with are the basic, natural, and unique ways people think and act. And most importantly, these instincts can sometimes be a problem and sometimes be a great strength.
I’m curious about these natural ways of thinking and behaving, and about how they can be harnessed into strengths. But this curiosity isn’t just something that scratches an itch. It’s also a tool that helps discover value in others—and not just generally, like in the sense that all people are valuable, but also specifically, because each person has a unique combination of instincts and therefore has the potential to impact the world uniquely.
I don’t always choose to practice this curiosity. Sometimes I choose to be close-minded instead of curious. When I do, I become a lesser version of the person I want to be, and I think less of people than I want to. I judge them, size them up, decide they need to be different, dismiss them for not being who I think they should be.
But when I do choose to practice curiosity about people, when I look under the microscope and ask, “In what ways could this person’s most natural tendencies become a great gift to the world?” — when I ask this, I’m filled with wonder, and everywhere I look are great gifts.
David Choi, North Carolina
Student of Learning