I attended a management strategies program at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh last week. It was a great development opportunity, and I learned a lot. One of the things we did was the Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator Assessment. Knowing your natural preferences is supposed to help you understand how to interact better in the workplace.
A point of discovery for me was that I am a Sensor rather than an Intuitive. S's tend to be practical, literal and oriented in the present. N's are more theoretical and abstract. As the instructor explained it, S's tend to do very well in school as young children learning lots of stuff and adding it to the great big list of stuff they know. Then they hit a wall in high school.
As a cynic, I was listening with great interest, wondering exactly what could happen in high school that messes it up for the smart little S's. He said all of the sudden you have to think in patterns and discover how things are connected. This challenge came in the form of geometry. He said geometry is so hard for many S's that they somehow muddle their way through high school and end up joining the military, where you actually get to do real work.
I almost cried. Really. It was as though he read my life. I simply did not get geometry. My sister tutored me, I stayed after class for extra help from the teacher and it as though all I heard was, "Blah, blah, blah." I always had pretty good grades, but the teacher gave me an F. I was indigant, and using my advanced verbal skills, I argued for an upgrade.
As I told the teacher, I could have gotten an F by staying home or cutting class. But I made the supreme effort. I attended class religiously, sought help on multiple fronts and persevered. I said I deserved a D- at least, and he bought it.
But it was life-changing. Right about that time I took the PSAT and did very poorly. The Meyers-Briggs dude said that was common as well. We're just as smart, he said, but we see things differently and learn differently. My guidance counselor switched me from the college prep track to the vocational track. I graduated with honors in public speaking but no real math skills, and I joined the Army as a journalist a year later. I went to college after I got out of the Army and did very well. Maybe all I needed was a little more time.
I was stunned to learn that I was not the only one who had this experience. I'm not normally one to believe in all this psycho babble, but the S description was uncanny. I talked to another guy at the training, and he had the same experience. We discussed being uncomfortable, nervous, sweaty and downright ill over word problems. A red train leaves Chicago going 35 miles an hour ...
He said his mother had to keep reminding him it didn't matter that the train was red. All that mattered was how fast it was going. I was like, ooh, a red train? How cool! I wonder who's on board? Where are they going? What are they wearing? Why didn't they fly? I'm all over the place, while the N's can connect the dots and solve the problem.
S's are good at learned skills. But change a variable or vary the pattern, and we get into trouble. This point was illustrated for me in full living color when I arrived at the airport last night.
It was 8:30 p.m. by the time I found my car in the parking garage and hit the road. I was excited that I only took one wrong turn with the bag drag through the labrynth of parked cars and didn't lose much time at all. I have been known to wander for as long as 40 minutes, although I always write down where I parked. Even accounting for traffic, I should be home by 9:30 p.m. at the latest.
There is an ungodly amount of construction going on near the DFW airport. My exit to Fort Worth was blocked, so I had to take another exit heading in the wrong direction. I had no choice. I eventually was able to make a u-turn -- but even then I wasn't sure I was headed in the right direction. A huge hunk of the highway was completely closed, and traffic was bumper-to-bumper on the frontage road.
I endured about 40 minutes of that and then stopped at a gas station to ask if I was on the right road to Fort Worth. The guy gave me directions, which I misunderstood and ended up going back in the opposite direction. I kept driving thinking there would be a sign or something, and there was, but the sign said Dallas. I was getting further and further off track. Finally, I turned around again and followed all the signs for the airport, and it eventually put me back on the frontage road. An hour and a half, and I was right back where I started. Back in the long line of bumper-to-bumper cars.
It's a 30-mile drive, and it took me two and a half hours to get home. It was 11 p.m., and I had cried a river of tears. My husband had stayed up waiting for me. He gave me a big hug and went to bed. I had a beer and sat in my favorite chair dazed and confused. I'm just thinking out loud here, but if they're going to change your whole route home, the least they could do is put up a few signs that clearly outline the alternatives.
This morning I asked my husband if he has ever taken the Meyers-Brigs. He has, and it turns out he is an N. No surprise there. I have a new appreciation for N's, and in the future, I believe I will be more appreciative of his contributions to the driving experience. He sure would have come in handy last night.
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