I’ve always been a direct communicator, both with myself and with others. I know my own feelings and why I feel them. When I have a disagreement with someone, my approach is to talk it out, even if it might be uncomfortable.
That’s why, when I realized I didn’t understand conservative perspectives, I went straight to the Republican Party and asked if there were people who’d talk to me. Whenever there’s a problem to solve or a task to accomplish, I tackle it head-on, making lists and plowing through them. I’m a linear thinker. 🙂
Here in the reserved Midwest, the lighthearted word “coasty” describes louder, ruder, more direct people from either coast. I don’t completely fit the stereotype, which includes Ugg boots and loud cell phone conversations, but I’m subtly different from many Midwesterners in the way I wear my heart on my sleeve and speak up about things that bother me.
But recently, I’ve come across two wise teachers who advocate a different, less direct approach. I want to share their wisdom with you here.
Kwame Anthony Appiah, a Princeton professor of philosophy, was recently interviewed for the Krista Tippett’s Civil Conversations Project in a program called “Sidling Up to Difference.” Appiah happens to be the Ghanaian-British-American whose racially diverse parents inspired the movie Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner. Literally from birth, he’s been an expert on cross-cultural differences!
In this recent interview, he says that sometimes, approaching our differences head-on is less productive than simply spending time together and not talking about those differences.
For example, here’s how he describes bridging the religious gap between himself and Muslims:
Sometimes people think that…the only way to deal with these big differences between religions or around moral questions is to kind of face up to the difference directly. But I think often…sidling up to it is better… [S]idling up to it can be done by not facing Islam, but facing Leyla and Ahmed and Mohammed with whom you don’t talk about religions most of the time. You talk about soccer or you talk about, you know, rock music or whatever it is that you have in common as an interest.
Sidling up is what many of us already do unintentionally. Even me. If I’m chatting with my neighbor at a block party, I’m not likely to bring up the huge “Bush-Cheney” bumper sticker on her SUV. It isn’t always polite to bring up politics, unless we’re sure we hold the same views.
Appiah says this instinctive avoidance of certain topics need not be seen as a failure. We can pick and choose when to talk about touchy subjects. The rest of the time, we can work to build bridges by finding things we have in common.
Parker Palmer gives similar advice in his A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward An Undivided Life. This beautiful book is about creating safe spaces for people to connect with their souls in each other’s presence. He says to keep in mind that the soul is “shy:”
Just like a wild animal, it seeks safety in the dense underbrush, especially when other people are around. If we want to see a wild animal, we know that the last thing we should do is go crashing through the woods yelling for it to come out. But if we will walk quietly into the woods, sit patiently at the base of a tree…and fade into our surroundings, the wild creature we seek might put in an appearance…A circle of trust is a group of people who know how to sit quietly “in the woods” with each other and wait for the shy soul to show up.
One of his book’s chapters is called “The Truth told Slant.” It starts off with Emily Dickinson’s poem about sidling up to Truth:
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant—
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surpriseAs Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind—
When seeking something as deep and vital as the soul or the truth, it can be best to take an indirect, “sidling up” approach. After more than a year of practicing civil discourse, this idea makes so much sense to me. I may be certain that my view is right and yours is wrong—global warming is a fact, people, not open for debate!—but simply telling you that truth is often totally ineffective.
A person will only receive truth when she’s open to it. Often, the best way for me to help you arrive at the truth is not to say it directly, but instead to just give you supportive, loving space. Perhaps I can tell you about my own experience, but it’s still best to do so in a way that doesn’t pressure you.
This is all somewhat different from Reach Out Wisconsin’s approach. We encourage people to talk politics with strangers! We hope the space we provide is safe and friendly enough for people to ask the questions they’re too shy or polite to ask at the block party.
We in Reach Out hope that, at some point in the future, Americans will be able to talk politics without fear of anger or rudeness. But regardless, there will always be great value in the “sidling up” approach too. Even in Reach Out, we coach participants to tell their personal stories, and not only stories about politics: where they’re from, what their family is like, what work they do. Getting to know each other as human beings eases tension.
So it’s okay to sometimes avoid the tough topics. Or maybe even to avoid them most of the time. Work instead on building trust before broaching them—talk about the weather; talk about sports; talk about family and hobbies. That way, when it is time to talk politics, the conversation will go much better.
