“Everyone you will ever meet knows something you don’t.” Bill Nye
I used to encourage my students to participate in class discussions by reminding them of what each of their individual experiences would bring to the conversation. Yes, we all are going to read the same piece, but each of you is going to see it differently because of the life experiences through which you filter this new information. And, I’d tell them, if we all talk to each other and listen to each other, we’ll all broaden our perspectives and walk out with a new and fuller understanding. As you can imagine, I had varying degrees of success with that line; but when it worked, it was a beautiful thing! I especially loved it when I learned from the students because their experiences added to my own perceptions.
I’ll never forget the time when a student’s input made me understand a part of a short story that had me totally confused. The story was “The Lesson” by Toni Cade Bambara. In the opening paragraphs, the protagonist, Sylvia, describes the living environment, big-city slums, of herself and her friends. Among other things, she says this group of children find themselves spending much of their time during the day with a woman she calls Miss Moore, “while [their] mothers were in a la-de-da apartment up the block having a good ole time.” La-de-da apartment? Hmmmmm. I’m from Troy, Ohio. The only thing “la-de-da” ever meant to me was something fancy, upscale; but in this context, that definition made no sense at all. I was picturing these fine ladies sitting around eating watercress sandwiches and playing bridge, but that image didn’t jive at all with her other descriptions of winos along the streets and children’s play areas reeking of urine so strongly it would make them gag. So my first couple of times teaching the story I tried to skip over that part. Finally, I had a delightful young man in a class who turned the lens for me and brought that sentence into perfect focus. He was from New York City and knew immediately that a la-de-da house or apartment is the local drug users’ hangout. OH! Now THAT makes sense! Thank you for teaching me!
Real conversation is increasingly rare, especially as more and more of our interactions take place by means of electronic gadgets. Far from seeking to learn what others can add to our own perceptions and how they can broaden and deepen our understanding, we cling tenaciously to our own polarized views and have no desire to hear anything that contradicts or challenges those views. What passes for “conversation” today more closely resembles groups hunkered down behind their own bunkers, lobbing talking points like bullets back and forth—never listening to what’s being lobbed at them, just waiting for a long enough pause to lob their own talking point back. What a tragic state this is! How much smarter could I be if I assumed “Everyone [I] will ever meet knows something [I] don’t” and then eagerly sought to find out what I can learn from each person with whom I’m fortunate enough to cross paths?
Another favorite quote of mine is from Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A sect or party is an elegant incognito devised to save a man from the vexation of thinking.” SO true! Many of us join sects (religious organizations) and parties (political organizations) to have someone else do our thinking for us and all we have to do is parrot the words of our esteemed leaders. It is possible to esteem and learn from our leaders and still think for ourselves. This is one of the things I love about being Presbyterian: we’re actually encouraged to think for ourselves and not simply repeat the company line, but I digress. More on that perhaps in another post. Back to Emerson, if all anyone does in a conversation is repeat the same old tired lines, without ever absorbing and processing any new information, it’s no wonder we don’t really talk to each other any more.
Add to that our need to be “right” and our utter disdain for anyone who sees the world differently and there’s a disaster waiting! We could name plenty of reasons to explain how we’ve arrived at this point: polarized religious and political views, blind following of certain leaders and opinion makers, unwillingness to read and think, laziness, failing education system, prejudice, intolerance—the list is endless.
We can’t even be polite in our disagreement any more. As our communication increasingly takes place from remote locations via the Internet, we don’t have to look our opponent in the eye; so we feel the liberty to say things I can’t even imagine saying to anyone’s face. I was in a Facebook conversation one day when a friend of a friend called me an idiot and suggested I pull my head out of my ass. Even though our standards of courtesy and respect are not what they used to be, I still can’t see someone looking at a total stranger face to face and being that rude and crass. And this attitude is yet another block to our finding out what that other person can teach us. I could have taught that young man some manners, just for starters, along with a few other things. And I could see he had ideas from which I could have learned a different perspective also, if he had been willing to speak calmly and to listen. Instead, I quickly deleted my comments and exited the discussion, since I learned long ago you can’t reason with unreasonable people.
But what a loss for everyone when our default view of human encounters is that anyone who doesn’t belong to my sect, my party, my tribe is fundamentally wrong and I (and my sect, my party, my tribe) are right. And it’s therefore my purpose in life to defend the views of my people against the onslaught of those other people’s lies. But really, what do I have to lose—what do you have to lose—by simply listening? At worst, you’ve spent a few minutes connecting with another human and granting that person the human dignity of being acknowledged and heard. At best, you’ve learned something. Learning is good.