by Tina Whittle
I got into a Facebook kertuffle this 4th of July. It started with the usual ingredients (politics and identity and contrasting ideas about symbology) and ended in the usual place—with neither party having shifted one inch in their opinion.
I got into a Facebook kertuffle this 4th of July. It started with the usual ingredients (politics and identity and contrasting ideas about symbology) and ended in the usual place—with neither party having shifted one inch in their opinion.
It almost makes me want to
stop sharing material that I know will pull some person who disagrees with me
out of the woodwork and into an online spat. I mean, the fact-checking alone
took up more mental bandwidth than I wanted to give something that was destined
from the start to be an irreconcilable clash. The emotional cost was high
too—I'm still treating the cracked molar I got from stress-grinding my teeth.
In the end, I kept asking,
is this how it has to be? Is it at all possible to have a reasonable exchange
of contrasting ideas in a social media context? And if the answer is no—and I
think 90% of the time that's going to be the answer—does that mean we should
nip the bud of such debates? Should we self-censor what we share, curate our
feed so that it's more puppies and sunsets and fewer lightning rods and vinegar?
Maybe. Maybe not. I don't
think misinformation should go unchallenged. But I also don't think we need to
place any investments in the outcome of such challenges. And perhaps we don't always
need to indulge in a protracted back-and-forth that is always going to end where
it began—with two people disagreeing.
Here's what I think we need
to learn to do—we need to learn to listen. I'm not talking about conversation,
or dialogue, or debate. I'm not talking about words that are back-and-forth.
I'm talking about deep, active listening to another human being's story.
A story is not a mutual
exchange. It flows one way. One person gives, and another receives. Our brains
are story-making—and story-processing—machines. It's how we first begin to
understand our world, how we first begin to perceive our own place within it. Stories
provide our greatest meaning-making tool.
All of us here at this blog
are writers (and of course, readers). With every story we participate in,
whether in the telling or the receiving, we strengthen the empathetic muscle of
the world.
I wish I could sit in a big
circle with everyone on this blog, with everyone reading this, and have each
person tell me a story. Such an event would take logistics beyond my pay grade.
In the meantime, however, perhaps a snippet of your life will do.
Care to share something
about yourself or your world? Something big, something small, something
unusual, something true?
Tell me a part of your
story.
* * *
Tina Whittle writes the Tai Randolph/Trey Seaver mysteries. The sixth book in this Atlanta-based series—Necessary Ends—is available now. Tina is a proud member of Sisters in Crime and has served as both a chapter officer and national board member. Visit her website to follow her on social media, sign up for her newsletter, or read additional scenes and short stories: www.tinawhittle.com.
Everyone interprets the world and its happenings according to their own experience and values. Challenges to anyone's beliefs may spur thoughtful reflection, but is more likely to rouse defense, especially in the heat of the moment. Thoughtful listening to one another can be a key to understanding.
ReplyDeleteI agree, KM. Listening, like any skill, can be learned (though some people have a natural talent for it). But I have found most people don't actively listen to other people. Conversations turn into two people taking turns talking. I'm not sure it can happen on social media. I think it takes time and a willingness to go against the instinct to convince or debate. It takes effort and commitment. But I think the rewards are astounding.
ReplyDeleteI currently use Facebook to update readers on my books and to share interesting updates about my family. Right now I have grandchildren visiting: two sets of twins ages 8 and 10, both in the same family. It's a rather unique situation, and I'm glad to share their stories on Facebook since people seem to enjoy them. I have stopped saying anything about the state of the political world because it seems counterproductive these days.
ReplyDeleteAnd I love social media for those things too -- the flowers and the grandkids and the things that connect us in beauty and joy. I also love it as a political tool, and find it useful for sharing information among my like-minded friends (and as a way of bucking us up In These Times). I am not sure if it is productive or not (I suppose that depends on the end result one is after).
ReplyDeleteBut connecting on social media is a thing of breadth, not depth. And I think depth is best served in person AND through stories and books. Science backs me up on this. So does my soul. :)
Like Susan, I use social media to share book related items and what I hope are interesting stories. I long ago made the decision not to get involved in politics. It seemed a no win situation.
ReplyDeletePeople seem to have forgotten the art of conversation - it's a give and take that will hopefully present a different viewpoint and make the participants think or at least understand the opposing side. It's definitely not the my way or the highway deal it often becomes on social media. I know it's possible for that kind of discussion to take place in the written world. In the years before social media we communicated through letters. Few took umbrage.
I agree, Tina, social media is not about depth. It would be fun and enlightening to sit around the WWK campfire!
Even better with a campfire!
ReplyDeleteI do get into politics on my Facebook page and have friends with vastly different views who challenge me.
ReplyDeleteThis is very interesting— it helps me understand different perspectives. I set limits though when people stop being respectful.
We can disagree and still value one another.
I totally agree, Carla. And as one of my friends reminded me, we think the person we're having a discussion with on Facebook is our audience. But they're not. Our audience is the people who are reading our discussion, often silently and without participating. And that's where perspectives get shifted, in that often unacknowledged receptive space. I am always on the lookout for those spaces.
ReplyDeleteI try not to get discouraged but I think the kind of deep listening you write about may be beyond many. Every time I see a group of people (or, heaven help us, a family) out at dinner and their heads are down, facing their phones and not each other - I cringe. We can barely listen to our loved ones, never mind someone who may disagree forcefully with us.
ReplyDeleteThat's why I vote YES to a campfire! Freed of our social media and tech, we may just manage to listen again.
Shari, I have been heartened in the work of my local Beloved Community group, which brings together people of very different perspectives and creates space for them to practice listening and being listened to. In these sessions, there is no back-and-forth, no cross talk (there is a space for that later) but it takes facilitation. Some people take to it naturally, but everyone benefits from practice in both listening AND speaking your truth without worrying that someone will interrupt or argue. That's hard to do too! But I am optimistic at what I am seeing happen there.
ReplyDeleteAlso, yes to campfire!