Since arriving here at RISD in June, I’ve been on a journey to understand the nature of our community and the value of teamwork that engages people across all “boundaries.” I put that word boundaries in quotation marks because it’s a word that I’ve never really acknowledged with great emphasis. I truly believe in the power of open, transparent systems that lead to easier sharing of expertise that can leverage the wisdom of the crowd. One core concept that underlies any concept of teamwork and community is the premise of mutual respect.

Imagine you are in a classroom and engaged in a critique. The critique can turn negative or positive in feedback. What determines whether the critique is useful however has nothing to do whether it was all-negative or all-positive — it depends upon whether there was mutual respect between student and teacher, between student and students, and between student and the entire world. Which begs me to often ask myself, “How is mutual respect formed?”

As I google the word “respect,” I find it interesting how there is an Wikipedia entry; it’s promising that there’s no entry for the word “disrespect” — and yet to understand respect we need to understand disrespect. Or more importantly, how we turn disrespect into respect.

Yesterday I spoke with someone on our facilities staff here at RISD about my passion for this term “respect.” She recalled how there was a day when she was mopping one of the hallways in a residence hall, and a student kicked her bucket of water over and it spilled onto the floor. Her immediate reaction was wonder, and asked why he had done this — to which there was a muffled and grumpy response. The conversation was going nowhere, until another student stepped into the hallway and asked the other student to reconsider his attitude, and for him to apologize to the custodial person. He refused and walked away down to the end of the hall, turned, and said, “Okay. I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to eat today as I couldn’t afford to get lunch.”

The custodian replied, “Just because you’re hungry doesn’t mean you should take it out on someone you don’t even know.” She paused, and then added, “I think I found your ten dollar bill that you lost on the floor above. You should use it to get your lunch. You shouldn’t have left it on the floor so carelessly.”

The student quizzically replied, “I can’t take that.” To which she replied, “I’m sure it’s yours so go and eat your lunch.” And he went off.

At the end of her story, the custodian said that this particular student would later open the door for her when she was carrying heavy things, ask how her family was doing, and constantly show concern for her well-being. It was a tale of respect. Mutual respect. It happens every day here in our community. It is founded upon conversations, and giving each other a chance to hear and say their views. It is founded upon the emotional and intellectual philanthropy that lies at the heart of our great school of art and design. And I’m proud and honored to be a part of our RISD.