CONCLUSION

Many of the people with whom I work need to be reminded that “knowledge” and “skill” are not simply two different names for the same thing. “Knowledge” means knowing that something is true, and “skill” means knowing how to do something.

I am no opponent of knowledge acquisition but happen to be far more inter­ested in exploring the many issues associated with skill development.

I have observed in many of the people with whom I work their belief that knowledge and skill are fungible. That is, they behave as if they believe that there is a threshold beyond which accumulated knowledge will somehow become skill. We hope that our program participants will come to see that this is false.

It appears to me that much of the motivation for the belief that knowledge can somehow be turned into skill is rooted in timidity. Many of our program participants are hesitant to “give it a try.” I am sure that some of that is gener­ated by in the anxiety we all might feel when we try a new skill, but there is something beyond that: many people new to the world of small-group conflict facilitation seem to feel that any modest misstep on their part will have explo­sive consequences. With that, they become overly cautious, and often avoid intervening in the hope of preventing catastrophe.

Of course, I certainly do not wish to suggest recklessness on the part of any conflict facilitator, but in my view, little that we might do in that capacity has the explosive potential that many try to avoid.

In fact, when our interventions are inappropriate, they do not explode; they merely “fizzle.” Typically, they pass virtually unnoticed. I will admit that this may be no small blow to the ego, but it is important to remember, that with time, even such a blow can be overcome.

In response to my observation of this tendency toward hesitation in my con­flict facilitators-in-training, I occasionally offer the old joke about the tourists who find themselves lost in midtown Manhattan one misty evening. To their relief, they spot a man beneath a streetlamp on the next corner.

As they approach, they notice that the gentleman seems the ideal person to provide assistance because he is carrying a horn case, and one of the tourists says, “Excuse me, can you tell us how to get to Carnegie Hall?”

The horn player says simply: “Practice, practice, practice.”

And so do I.