Tag: discussion

Here’s something radical: We disagree. We can still be friends.

Civil discourse. Sometimes it seems like an impossibility, a utopia, a thing of the past. In the age of instant publication of everyone’s thoughts to a potentially huge audience, and with no way of taking back a rash, thoughtless statement once it’s escaped one’s texting or posting fingers, it feels as if cyberspace (and, thence, real space) is clogged with outrage, name-calling, and sometimes straight-up mean-spiritedness, all because we are drawing battle lines over a variety of hot topics. New blog posts that go viral, legislation, personal experiences all get hashed out in great detail as toes and fingers dig into the lines in the cybersand.

Friendship and lines in the sand: do they mix?
Friendship and lines in the sand: do they mix?

Again, though I don’t write about the really controversial topics on this blog or go into detail about my opinions on some of them, it may be fairly simple to figure out where I stand on certain things. I am religious and conservative. As I said in my previous post, about body image and “feminism,” sometimes people’s conclusions about what I think might be different from what I actually believe, but in general, they’re probably going to be mostly right. But the reasoning and the emotion and compassion and time I’ve taken to draw my conclusions are almost NEVER going to be as cut-and-dried and automatic as some might assume, which is a point I’d really like to make clear.

The past years, for instance, have brought same-sex marriage to center stage in the national consciousness and in legislation. And it’s been interesting to have discussions with friends (and acquaintances and their acquaintances) about the various issues that tie into that hot topic. Various states are still in the process of approving or banning it (or having their voters’ decisions overturned); attorneys general are weighing in; states are introducing legislation that deals with related issues to gay marriage (Arizona’s current potential law trying to safeguard business owners who would like to exercise religious opinions on it is a biggie this week). As all these legalities make their way through the various systems to some kind of eventual, kind-of-final resolution, many still have mighty strong opinions about all the ins and outs.

Again, I won’t talk about all my opinions on this topic. There are some truly good sites out there that do better than I could for all the sides. What’s interesting to me, however, is HOW we present these ideas. And in many ways, it is NOT a pretty picture. It’s ugly out there, folks. Discourse is so far from civil it’s not even on the spectrum sometimes (is it DATcourse? ha ha).

But when I’ve talked about this topic, for example, with friends I adore and respect and think the world of in cyberspace, mostly Facebook, I’ve found that though the discussion can still get a touch heated, it’s still pretty respectful. And so far I’m talking about people who are all of my same religious persuasion and similar backgrounds, I’d roundly say. And we still have very different and strong opinions about all the issues-within-the-issue. Here’s what I love, though: that it stays respectful and devoid of name-calling or (mostly) generalizing. I’ve not changed my mind, and I am sure they haven’t, but we’ve had some interesting discussions and even insights and ideas that were generated. And we walk away still liking and loving each other.

I think about this when I drive sometimes: when there’s a driver who’s been doing something that’s “making me crazy” on the road, it’s once or twice been someone I ended up knowing! And when I know who it is, then my frustration just dribbles right out of me. I think twice now when someone’s really going slowly or ___(fill in the blank) because I wonder, “Could it be someone I really like?”

I wonder if it’s possible to do this more in public discourse. Could we imagine that the people we’re “talking” with in cyberspace, for example, are decent human beings, ones we might be friends with in real life? Can we treat them with the respect due to that kind of relationship? This isn’t a new idea: it’s all about not de-humanizing people. (In extreme situations, severe de-humanization — or objectification, if you will — has led to slavery and genocide.)

I’ve been taught from these discussions and hope I’ve said something that might give someone else “on the other side” a new insight or understanding. And if we were all together in person, I imagine us smiling, shaking hands, and heading out for a nice dinner together, laughing, joking, and just enjoying time together as friends. Now THAT’s pretty radical.

Silence isn’t emptiness; it’s potential

Ever noticed how uncomfortable silence makes most people? It’s as if any unfilled space is a vacuum they must rush in to fill. People abhor it, indeed.

I’ve come to appreciate silence, those golden but seemingly interminable seconds between what most people consider the “active” moments. Because so much really does happen in those quiet spaces between.

I’ll use a church setting as an example. Sunday School teachers often ask questions, because they’re told that’s part of being a good teacher. Typically, however, they’ll make one of two mistakes: they’ll ask a yes/no question or one with only one short “right answer” that’s so obvious and “easy” that everyone feels silly answering it, or they’ll ask a really great thought-provoking question and then shut down any potential for discussion if no one raises their hand within about three seconds. The best teachers, however, are comfortable with waiting and letting their listeners’ minds work, even as silence descends on the group. If given a moment, participants can really create an invigorating or inspiring (or both) discussion.

Think about time you’ve shared with someone you’re either trying to get to know better or with someone you do know well but with whom you’d like to have a kind of serious or challenging talk. When you ask a question, do you sit patiently and quietly, showing with your facial and body language that you support them and respect them enough to give them some time to think and respond in a way that they’ll feel comfortable with? Or do you rush to reframe or redirect or say, “Oh, never mind” or “Don’t worry about it”?

My oldest daughter and I have talked about how many people tend to talk to us and share things with us. I think it’s because we’re active listeners. We’re comfortable with quiet and that space that is silent but most definitely not empty. We’re interested in what others have to say and don’t always have to respond to give our two cents’ worth. And maybe it’s nice to know that people feel comfortable confiding in us, trusting us with their “secrets.”

I’ve also realized that keeping my mouth shut for an extra minute or two when I might be inclined to respond quickly with an easy answer or snap judgment can yield some surprising results and make me glad I didn’t say anything. Just yesterday, my little 6-year-old, who can easily cause some frustration and annoyance in her older siblings (and parents), said to me, “So, there’s this new girl in my class, and she’s really annoying!” I admit I immediately thought, “Oh, really!? Pot, meet kettle.” But I held my tongue. Then she went on to say, “Yeah, she goes around choking people.” What? (Still not sure what exactly “choking” entails, and we’ve made sure to impress on her that if anyone at school is trying to hurt her, etc., to immediately tell a teacher; my point here is that “annoying” in her mind wasn’t quite the meaning I usually attach to it.) If I had responded what I’d been thinking rather than just continuing to listen, she might not have shared that last vital bit of information that allowed us as parents to teach her something important.

Keeping silent has value and can allow us to learn much we wouldn’t know otherwise. Unfortunately, it’s a skill that we don’t emphasize nearly enough in our culture of nonstop information. Turning off the TV, the computer, the smartphone, and other devices has power; turning off our tongues does as well.