There is wide disagreement on any number of issues in American discourse at this time. More than any single issue — the tone of the talk is of concern to me.
I learned this from Rush Limbaugh. I was listening to him one day and he said the name “Clinton,” through clenched teeth, as usual. By “Clinton,” he meant a litany of lies, abuse of power and goofy judgments too obvious enumerate.
As hatred dripped from his voice, my gut reaction was somewhere between disgust and dismay. I remember thinking “Why can’t we have a civil discussion, based on facts?” And then I realized that I do it, too. When certain names were mentioned — Halliburton is a good example — the tone of my voice was not neutral. By “Halliburton,” I did not mean a powerful capitalist endeavor demonstrating the best of American “Can Do” spirit. No. I meant to imply an amoral behemoth with too cozy a relationship with our government. The tone of my voice said it all. And anyone who did not immediately understand what I meant by it and agree with me was part of the problem.
If I want Rush to change his ways, don’t I have to do so, too?
Since that time, I have made a steady effort to understand where people are at — especially if I disagree with them. After all “How the hell can you say that?” and “How did you come to that conclusion?” are more or less the same question — except for tone. I can repeat what I already believe — ever more loudly. Or I can be curious.
Humans are at the tipping point of so many critical decisions. I can’t help but feel that more understanding (obviously) and more wisdom would come out asking the second of those two questions.
Here are some examples from my life. I am generally in the liberal camp yet I can truly respect folks who take a divergent position from my own:
My daughter is getting married to her female partner. I celebrate this. And I understand that “fluid gender roles” seems like a completely startling idea to many people.
I am actively supporting refugee resettlement. And I understand that some people legitimately fear short-term threats to the safety of our communities, as well as longer-term fears that immigrants who get here and have barriers to successful integration will become threats to safety in the future. They are not necessarily hateful people for holding this position.
I am deeply committed to a just and lasting peace in Israel/Palestine. I am empathetic to the fears and true injustices experienced by both peoples there. And I understand that there are folks whose loyalty goes to only one of those groups, the one whom they consider to be The Victim.
It is hard to be respectful to someone when we feel threatened by them. It is hard to be curious when we really want to say “Shut up you and listen to me!” But every one of us — liberal, conservative, or blue — knows how it feels to be told that! That utter lack of curiosity and simple respect will get us to right where we are now. If I am really committed to my position, maybe the best thing I can do is sit down with someone who really disagrees with me! As an added bonus, if we really listen to each other, we are likely to come up with significantly new ways of looking at our challenges and more compelling and creative solutions.
A culture of respectful conversation in disagreement could go a long way to soften minds and hearts around many local issues in our community.
Andrea Cohen Kiener is rabbi at Temple Israel in Greenfield and a certified compassionate listening trainer.