My Mom recently sold her half of a duplex in Jupiter, Florida. Cleaning out the two-bedroom house, originally owned by my grandparents then passed to my parents, was a trip down memory lane. I kept a few things that were sentimental, and also a few that I thought were valuable.
While poking through the kitchen cabinets, I noticed white Corningware casserole dishes with the blue flower patterns circa 1965, neatly stacked with their clear lids nearby. These were familiar. Any frozen vegetable served to me between the ages of five and fifteen arrived at the dining table in one of these Corningware dishes. They possessed some sentimental value perhaps, but who could possibly want these old, outdated dishes? “Donate” was the determination, and I might have used the word “junk” as I hauled them out to our SUV.
Fast forward to the next weekend, and the first twist. My twenty-two year old daughter, home visiting from Orlando is talking about a dish she will be listing on eBay. Her question: “Dad, do you know why these are so valuable?”
She reaches for her phone to show me a listing, a seller willing to part with a valuable casserole dish, without the lid, for $2,000. I was curious, what was this exotic casserole that commanded such an impressive price. Was it a hand-decorated Russian Faberge? The image came up, and my jaw dropped. Yes, you guessed it. This valuable, exotic dish is the vintage Corningware casserole with the blue flower pattern.
Quickly, I did the math. Three casseroles with lids, four small dishes and one coffee pot, all in the blue flower pattern – that’s over $10,000 worth of Corningware “income” lost. And I was sure the stuff was junk!
Still queasy about that missed opportunity, I rapidly shifted to a radical thought. “If I’m living in a world where Corningware is worth thousands, what else am I missing that’s right in front of me?”
It wasn’t like I was torn between donating and keeping these – an epic struggle that resulted in a “donate” verdict. It much more closely resembled a quick wave of the hand and a quiet compliant that I needed to move them the twenty feet to our car. I was 100% sure these were of zero value, and I was 100% wrong.
Which raises these questions:
- “What assumptions am I making, assumptions where I am absolutely positively sure that something is true, that are in reality completely false?”
- “Do I undervalue things that are familiar to me?”
- “Do I do this with people too, taking for granted their amazing gifts and talents because I see them every day?”
As a human being, it’s to my benefit to be open to what’s going on around me. All too often, I’ve assessed and profiled people, using my logical brain to sort them neatly by perceived strengths and weaknesses. Once determined, this assessment seldom changes.
The problem with this is that people do sometimes change.
A $10 casserole in 1965 could be a $2,000 one in 2020. You and I have people in our lives, you know the ones, who we judged as $10 casseroles in our youth and still consider them as $10 casseroles today. Is that a beneficial approach?
Ok, now for another twist, found after further research this morning. There seems to be disagreement online about how valuable vintage Corningware really is. Casseroles appear to have sold for thousands on eBay, yet antiques experts quoted in other articles say the pieces are only worth a few hundred or much less. Further research is required to make a final determination.
As a leader, it is valuable for me to remember that I don’t have all the answers. In fact, I don’t even possess a fraction of them. Research IS required. What was originally a $10 casserole, now worth $2,000 might still be worthless to me because I don’t recognize the value.
Being present, recognizing and challenging assumptions, getting a 2nd opinion even when I’m sure I’m right. These are skills worth practicing.
What’s worth practicing for you?
Jeff@COOForYou.com
888-588-0357