The Art of Conversation

What’s it like to have a conversation with a friend where you feel like you learn something about your friend, you learn something about yourself, and you see the world in an entirely new way?

I’m grateful to have had a number of conversations like that. One was a conversation with one of my best friends, Andrew. We were in a forest, taking a well-earned moment to rest and talk, and watch our camp groups having fun on a low ropes course we had set up early that morning. The conversation was about how we can make life the best it can be while we are alive. It felt like more than just words, too, because we had just made something together. We had an idea for setting up our own low ropes course, and we made it happen, all in the span of a day. The conversation really changed the way I viewed what true friendship and sharing of dreams can do.

I just listened to a talk by a radio host named Celeste Headlee. She gives 9 tips for better conversations, but said that if you just take one and master it, it will make you a better conversationalist.

I’m doing one of those things right now. “If you want to pontificate, write a blog,” she said. She said that conversations are for listening, for a balance between talking and listening, for push-back and learning.

One other thing she mentioned is harder (for me, at least) to follow.

#6 “Don’t equate your experience with theirs.”

There is legitimate sharing. However, there’s a difference between sharing common experiences and sharing a big celebration or a big loss. In times like those, it’s best not butt in, equating your experience with theirs. Some times, it’s best just to listen, because, “It’s not the same, it is never the same.” And how are you going to understand their unique experience if you’re too busy trying to explain what you felt in a similar, but different, situation? There’s a time and place for the universal. Everyone suffers. And everyone’s situation is a little bit different.

This goes for teachers, too. I’ve heard it from a number of veteran teachers that the best thing to do with your students is to have a conversation.

 

 

Cornel West and Gravitational Waves: Blues and Coalescence

Yesterday, two exciting things happened. Scientists announced at a press conference that something predicted by Albert Einstein — a gravitational wave — was detected. And the same day, I heard Cornel West speak to a packed auditorium at Smith College.

On first glance, these might seem entirely unrelated, except for the fact that they both occurred on the same day. There was another similarity, however: both the scientists who detected a gravitational wave and Cornel West used the same word to describe a profound concept. That word is “coalescence.”

Coalescence is the name for what happens when two or more separate things come together to form one thing.

Gravitational waves can be detected when two massive systems, like two black holes, come together. As they approve, they spin faster and faster, “much like a spinning figure skater who draws his or her arms in close to their body.” Source: LIGO Scientific Collaboration. The frequency of the waves thereby increases until the moment of coalescence, when the two black holes come together as one.

Dr. West used “coalescence” to describe people coming together, realizing their connectedness. And wow, did he connect people. As soon as Dr. Cornel West entered the room, people rose from their seats, giving him a standing ovation. I am embarrassed to admit it, but I said,

“Why are people standing up? He hasn’t even said anything yet.” Which was patently false, and it was a very silly and thoughtless thing to say. Of course Dr. Cornel West had said something already. That’s why he was invited to speak. People knew him because he had said something. Something real and important. And now he was going to speak again.

I have been to one other event I can remember where people gave a standing ovation upon the entrance of the speaker to the stage. The other time was a concert by Yo Yo Ma, who is one of my favorite musicians, and I eagerly jumped up to applaud upon his entry.

After listening to him speak, I understand now why people applauded when Dr. Cornel West walked into the room. He has presence. And he acknowledges people gracefully — it’s clear why he is a respected leader. Dr. West accepted the introductions given to him by two Smith students by giving them a big embrace. He gave thanks to his colleagues doing good work at Smith and Holyoke. He also acknowledged that any of the good he does is only possible because he was loved. Beyond being gracious, Dr. West spoke passionately about injustices present in today’s society. Acknowledging how radical counter-cultural it is given such an environment, he urged the audience to become love warriors.

Throughout his speech, Dr. West dropped names right and left, but he did so in such an invested and appreciative way — both for those he agreed with and those he disagreed with and affectionately imitated or parodied — that I very much enjoyed his lists and associations. He spoke of Ferguson. He spoke of politicians Bernie Sanders and Hilary Clinton. He spoke of feminist Gloria Steinem and poet Sylvia Plath. He spoke of philosophers Socrates and Aristotle. He spoke of writer Franz Kafka.

To my surprise, Dr. West spoke less about politicians than about “blues people:” people who sing sweetly against a backdrop of darkness of which they are painfully and thrillingly conscious. Aretha Franklin, Bob Dylan, Coltrane, and others.

He spoke also of a woman who had lost her son to violence at the hands of white supremacists, who threw his body in a river after they had killed him. She dragged out the body, and brought the open casket to church. The head swollen three times its normal size. When she was told to close the casket, she refused, saying that people needed to see the underbelly of our society. Dr. West pointed out that this courageous woman is the tip of the iceberg. She is one of many invisible and anonymous brave people who are standing up to speak despite powerful interests telling them to shut up. We need to listen if we are ever going to make real peace. Making peace requires love warriors.

Currently, the seamy dark underbelly of our society is all too large. Racial injustice. Social and environmental injustice. Flint, Michigan. Birth defects in the families of veterans after the spraying of Agent Orange during the Vietnam War (Source: U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs). Think of the Vietnamese civilians who were not just exposed to the chemicals, but whose lands and drinking water were directly sprayed and contaminated. Think of the concentrations they were exposed to. We need to shed light on the effect our military has on other human beings. We need to be conscious of and be honest about where our infrastructure is failing the people who are trusting it to be safe for their health. We need to listen to people’s suffering so that we can be conscious and ethical and retain our humanity — the music, the sharing, the spark that connects us and gives meaning to our lives. We need to listen so we can coalesce into an undivided society, for liberty and justice for all. We’ve said “All lives matter” for a long time without it registering. Of course all lives matter. We said “all lives matter” when full-fledged slavery was active in this country. That’s why we still need to remind our country specifically, “Black lives matter.”