Learning to Listen All Over Again

The perpetual distraction of breaking news alerts flying fast and furious is wearing me thin without a bit of exercise. A girlfriend sent me a card with a female skull wearing sunglasses and a bandana head wrap, with the message underneath, “Crippling anxiety is my cardio.”

Meanwhile, my mom mailed me a card with a photo of a long bench and a colorful lineup of rain boots beneath it. The message inside: “We can weather any storm together.”

In the middle of all the political furies rising and swirling to fever pitch, I force myself to breathe and remember that civility is a practice. But first, we must remember something about individual freedom and unalienable human rights.

The other night after dinner, I joined some neighbors for a celebratory slice of home-baked cardamom cake served with fine loose-leaf tea in a modest nod to an annual celebration.

The glow of the lights inside, coupled with the muffled sound of conversation and easy laughter, made it feel warm and inviting.

Not familiar with everyone, introductions were made, and the conversation continued as I learned about the teaching career of a young cinematographer seated next to me. It felt good to get out of the house and meet some neighbors I hadn’t met before. We talked about weather, wildlife, wandering barnyard animals, past lives, and how we found our way home to Key Peninsula, living more or less at the end of the road. We discussed healthcare and, of all things, listened to stories about the Veterans Administration providing excellent service.

One of the women was Chinese, and while she speaks English, she used a translation app on her phone to help keep up with the fast-paced conversation. It was heartwarming for me to see that technology works so well in action and somehow made the world feel smaller in a very good way.

At one point, a subject of recent concern was raised: the gunshots fired by a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent who killed Renee Nicole Good, a mother of three children in Minneapolis Jan. 7. Not everyone at the table drew the same conclusion about whether the agent had reasonable cause to fire his weapon.

Our host voiced his thoughts while the neighbor seated directly across from him disagreed completely. Each man had strong feelings, and it didn’t take long before voices rose enough for a very wise woman to interject, “Please, please let’s not talk about politics here. We’re celebrating.”

To their credit, the men looked at each other, their faces softened, and together they dropped what could easily have escalated into full blown argument.

We each view things through the lens of our own experience. It’s helpful to recognize and consider this when we actively listen to each other.

The wise woman said she had some Chinese in her own background, but no real exposure to cultural traditions herself.

She asked the woman seated next to her if she would teach her how to make Chinese dumplings.

You know what happened next, right? It was all smiles, chatting more about comfort food, freshening our tea, and exploring other subjects with ease. By the time everyone headed home, there were rounds of warm hugs and gratitude for sharing a delightful evening.

Practicing civility opens the door to the possibility of engaging in a more productive dialogue that leads to better understanding.

That simple gathering has been on my mind ever since. It’s going to take time to relearn these lost skills in a world where many expect understanding without offering any.

I believe we can march to our own drummer without demanding purity tests left and right that interfere with our daily lives in public. People managed this for years when the practice was to either refrain from casual discussion of politics or religion in polite company, or to make the effort to exercise the same respect for opposing views they sought for themselves.

Marshall McLuhan was right when he said the medium is the message. We’re all so bombarded by words and images that alter our perceptions and social structures that we can’t get away from them. That cultivated loathing, while profitable for content creators and their platforms, tears communities apart.

It doesn’t have to be this way. We can change it. And on the KP, we already know how. We work together on stuff that matters. We care about our neighbors. We have a track record of success by coming together and giving each other compassion or a little slack in hard times.

Growing up as an immigrant, my mom treasured stability and consistency in her life. She still lives in the home where my sister and I were raised. Maybe that’s where my own aversion to change originated? My mother recently told me she is taking time to dig into her own beliefs, examining where they came from and whether the values formed by them still represent who she is today.

Her politics were naturally those of her parents, and later her husband. She didn’t question those things much, but never once missed her chance to cast a ballot. She voted in lockstep with her party for candidates with the correct letter behind their name.

But now, she can no longer do that, she said.

What did her life experience teach? What message has she learned from living? What does she want to leave behind for others to remember her by?

She’s still working on it, and for once I am eager learn what she thinks.