butter knives break the ice

Kids learn to navigate adult parties in curious ways. I was no exception. While seated at the big people's table during a formal adult dinner, I made a startling six-year-old discovery.

Butter knives are fantastic spy tools.

Completely by accident (probably because I was playing with my silverware instead of paying attention to my manners), I found that if I placed the flat edge of the knife on my nose, strained my eyes to look into the reflection, and then turned the knife in the direction of the big person I wanted to to spy on...

Voila.

I could see someone behind me. Or beside me. Or across from me. By merely placing the knife on my nose.

Now, I know what you're thinking. I was not really spying. There was nothing discreet about holding a knife to my nose. Everyone was more than aware of my silverware antics. But the adults around me were intrigued. Interested. Even picked up their own knives and tried it. Started laughing. Loosened up.

The frumpy board dinner became a little more fun, and the adults didn't have to be so "adulty" for a few minutes.

Most likely, if you've been with me anywhere - a trip, a board meeting, an obligatory awards dinner, a wedding, sitting beside me on a plane - I have pulled out my butter knife trick. Not because I want to make a scene or cause disruption. More because it breaks the ice.

Meeting new friends or co-existing with people in a formal setting can be stiff. Awkward. Uncomfortable. As an educator I have attended countless conferences and classrooms. I have received hundreds of Skittles and answered questions based on the color of those Skittles so that I could "get to know" the guy next to me who accidentally took a whole hand full because he's never played the game before.

Ice breakers can be odd. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't.

What we really want is to destroy the awkward tension. When a whole new group of people come together, there are so many masks and metaphorical walls in the way it often just remains awkward. And tense.

I have learned that if I am willing to make a fool of myself and grab that butter knife, declaring I am spying on someone at the end of the table (even better if declared in a British accent), then everyone concentrates on my crazy.

Or the knife.

Or trying the knife trick.

Or laughing.

And we easily become entangled in this weird thing. And that "weird thing" automatically becomes an inside joke for the whole crew. Instead of people feeling like outsiders, they are now ALL insiders.

I have taught this "trick" to board members, teachers, students, friends, complete strangers, and my husband (guess how thankful he is?) more times than I can count. Here's the crazy thing. Sometimes we have to make a small sacrifice (or give away spy secrets) to attain an atmosphere of collaboration. To make new friends. To make a meeting tolerable.

Laughing at ourselves, being comfortable with our weirdness and sharing that with others can be a perfect ice breaker. As a kid I didn't realize that my butter knife trick would be such a treasure. As an adult, I'm realizing that there's more to my butter knife trick than annoying my husband (in an adorable way, of course) at every formal event.

It's about connection. Sharing something strange so that we can eliminate the hierarchy in the room. You might have twenty years experience in the classroom or be a brand new teacher -- but that time difference means nothing when it comes to butter knife spying skills.

We might all be in the same department - but we know nothing about one another. So the butter knife can give us something to talk about the next time we see one another. I can hold up the knife from across the cafeteria and we've got something special. Someone might call the police but at least we'll always have our secret spy game.

Your butter knife might be an embarrassing story or the willingness to say "hello" first - but whatever your weapon of choice, the connection is worth it. We are so worried what other people think of us that we miss countless opportunities for friendship, learning, and plain old fun.

You didn't realize you could friends by merely opening a kitchen drawer, did you?