One thing I'm learning in these past couple of months is how much my closest ones (who are white, yep, and I'm talking specifically about those who are not already committed to justice and equity) just *don't want to talk about it.*
Talking about what we want from our shared future, talking about policy, talking about leadership, have always felt important to me. But as I've become more informed and impassioned, especially in this last year, the closest ones I'm referring to have actively backed away. They stay present for conversations on the phone, but change the subject very quickly. They ignore almost all written invitations.
I am doing my best to stay invitational, leave space for them to talk, ask open questions. (I fail sometimes.) I keep most of my communication non-political (cat pics! the usual fun or necessary texts!) but I know they feel baffled and sometimes annoyed by the fact that I *ever* bring up social and community issues, and ask them to engage. It's shifting the tenor of these relationships.
I feel...mostly I feel disappointed. In them. In my inability to live up to my own ideals (see above.) In the fact that these relationships, which are important to me, apparently have to change. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to give in, go back to thinking that if we don't talk about social and political issues, then they don't affect us. And to thinking that just thinking about ourselves is enough. I don't miss those days at all, not truly. Not knowing how much damage they did to all of us. I guess I'm saying I understand why so many white folks do miss that, and why they choose to look away again now.
I'll keep trying. Another thing I'm learning is how much time—unpredictable, unmeasurable time—change inside a person, or a family, or a nation, takes. I'll keep reminding myself this is a marathon. Thanks for the inspiration, Garrett.
Oof, that feeling is so real and I totally hear you Tara. If it's any consolation, one refrain I've heard a lot from truly talented organizers is that the ability to have transformative conversations with loved ones/folks closest to us is often MUCH harder than it is for more collegial relationships and/or strangers. It makes sense-- with folks with whom we have shared history, there's so much weighing on every conversation-- other dynamics in the relationship, fear of judgment, etc. It doesn't make it impossible but it does make the change more gradual (which I know you know, but yeah... that is disappointing). I just want to affirm that you're not doing anything wrong. [As a quick aside, sometimes in situations like the one's you're in, I've been able to help kickstart things with the question "hey, talking politics with me is really annoying, isn't it. What do you dislike most about it?"-- maybe that helps unlock some of the walls you're experiencing it, maybe not-- again, though, be kind to yourself... this is hard].
It makes sense that it would be harder to make progress in close close relationships than in ones where all parties have less invested. I appreciate that reminder; thank you.
Ok, I cracked up at that kickstart question. I am *definitely* going to use that! I think one of the things that bugs the folks in question is how serious and intense they perceive political discussions to be. So a joke at my expense is probably going to be a winner.
Thanks to everyone for all the comments and information below -- I wanted to add in one more layer which I've been thinking about a lot, which is the grief/sadness we experience when we start to dig into those conversations and find out that our neighbors, family, friends, etc aren't exactly who we thought they were (and even the grief we experience when we ourselves realize we're not as "good" as we thought we were, but that's a whole other conversation). It's a loss, even if just temporarily, or even just the threat of loss that I find prevents me from digging in a bit more. I bring this up because I've been wondering if this is compounded by the physical and emotional impact of living in a pandemic. We're so desperate for human connection that jeopardizing those ties (especially to those who we are in regular contact with) feels extra sad. Its something I've been navigating. I don't think there is a "right" answer here, but it's another dynamic that I've been experiencing in addition to what your'e sharing here Tara.
This isn't a question starter but it's something I've been thinking about for a long time (and said in an interview here but longer: https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/articles/a-talk-with-antonia-malchik-author-of-a-walking-life/), which is how we ended up in a place where whom a person voted for, or their political ideology, became the most important thing about who they are as a human being. I don't know where to go with that right now, especially as ideology and votes have such massive and obvious effects on millions of lives. But am also reminded that there are times when being Protestant or Catholic could be life or death identities, and similar divisions exist now all over the world.
First off, that's a really great interview and I'm really glad that I've gotten to read it now. Secondly, while I can't point to the origin (my best bet would be the Bowling Alone theory of decline in civic group connections and/or Kruse/Zelizer's theory of 1974 as this dividing line in polarization but I'm just grabbing straws), I totally agree that this is where we're at and it's a mess. And then, we try to change the minds of folks with whom they disagree, we assume they can start at the end point-- like "ok, let me try to get you on board for the Green New Deal or convince you that defund the police is good not bad." While it's great to be urgent and honest about critical issues we care about, what it says implicitly is "the only way you matter to me is if you end up agreeing with me on this issue" rather than building a relationship deep and complex enough that you have a sense of somebody's motivations and fears and that, out of that relationship, you help that person bring a fuller and more loving version of themselves into their politics.
That is beautifully said. I think Bowling Alone's points brought out a lot of this, though I agree it started earlier. One of the things I wrote about in my book (not trying to promote it here, just want to be transparent about my sourcing) is that a big factor is the *physical* silo-ing through highway building and subsidizing suburbs, themes that come up in Bowling Alone, too, especially when he talks about people flocking to mega-churches because they no longer have physical communities where they can gather for other reasons. Chris Lehane, a former political consultant for Bill Clinton, has said that, when Jimmy Carter won the presidency in 1976, “about seventy-five percent of the country lived in voting precincts—neighborhoods—that reflected the general vote, and that was about a one-point election. What you saw in 2012 and 2004 and 2000 was almost a reverse of that,” with an overwhelming percentage now living in landslide districts, which he said has an enormous impact on our ability to find common ground. (That's from a 2013 Commonwealth Club conversation, which I just realized was with the same Steve Schmidt who's now a Lincoln Project person! Wow, that's a change: https://www.commonwealthclub.org/events/2013-03-19/game-change-chris-lehane-and-steve-schmidt)
Anyway, yes, this whole thing about "unless you agree with me I can't have a relationship with you" is one of the cruxes of the issue, though it's easier for me because my family is all fairly progressive-- for friends whose parents and/or siblings are anti-immigrant, anti-LGBTQI it's so much harder because it can be something that negates your very personhood. But I guess that's one of the difficult parts of the conversation to be had, eventually. How their viewpoints affect people they love personally.
A friend of mine here published a paper on difficult conversations. Her main finding was that the conversations were more productive when people's main goal was in maintaining the relationship rather than winning the argument. Which is right in line with what I'm reading as part of your goals with your own project?
These are all such good points, both of you. So glad we are having this conversation!
It's striking me as I read how much I've actually shifted *away* from this thing that I've always tried to value, which you (Antonia) stated as "maintaining the relationship rather than winning the argument. " I haven't done this at all intentionally; it's sort of a function of trying to help or heal or do anything at all in this increasingly separated society you're both describing. Living this way creates more living this way, I guess, even when we're aware of living this way, and we don't like it, it starts to be the air we breathe at some point.
So I'm trying to figure out how to take this forward. Maybe it does make sense to outwardly do as my original FIQ would prefer, and "never talk politics." Meaning neither bring up nor engage with Opinions about specific candidates or broadly-delineated issues. But stay awake to when my FIQ bring up interests or worries, or respond to mine, and use those opportunities to ask them questions and not give them answers...This is very imperfect and theoretical and probably missing a ton...
Well, I think it’s valid to acknowledge how taxing it can be and the need to give yourself some breathers. And I dunno, but maybe there’s some efficacy in showing emotions like sorrow in lieu of anger sometimes? I found myself in that space with a neighbor at one point, involuntarily crying because while I was trying not to disagree but just listen, her viewpoint made me so sad. When that happened it opened a tiny space for me to express something I cared about.
100% this. In fact, I'm so glad you said this, because it reminds me of something I hold very much in common with the folks in question (FIQ): we all agree that each other's politics are not the most important thing about our identities in relationship to each other. Which might be good to affirm more often and more concretely with them than I do.
Same. And it's hard because at some point you have to vote, and vote for someone, and sometimes that vote negates someone else's right to exist or to thrive. Finding a place to struggle with *that* is probably what makes this so hard.
I have read this piece three times and I think I need to read it again. So much to think about. I think the line that is sticking with me/convicting me the most is "Organizing isn’t yelling across a canyon asking people to join us, it’s helping them imagine how beautiful the other side must be and then figuring out how to build the bridge together." You are giving me some hope.
I should caveat that I used to be managing editor at that magazine (it no longer publishes), though I had nothing to do with that particular essay. Sometimes the date of it blows my mind, it seems even more relevant now though it was published before the 2016 election.
One thing I'm learning in these past couple of months is how much my closest ones (who are white, yep, and I'm talking specifically about those who are not already committed to justice and equity) just *don't want to talk about it.*
Talking about what we want from our shared future, talking about policy, talking about leadership, have always felt important to me. But as I've become more informed and impassioned, especially in this last year, the closest ones I'm referring to have actively backed away. They stay present for conversations on the phone, but change the subject very quickly. They ignore almost all written invitations.
I am doing my best to stay invitational, leave space for them to talk, ask open questions. (I fail sometimes.) I keep most of my communication non-political (cat pics! the usual fun or necessary texts!) but I know they feel baffled and sometimes annoyed by the fact that I *ever* bring up social and community issues, and ask them to engage. It's shifting the tenor of these relationships.
I feel...mostly I feel disappointed. In them. In my inability to live up to my own ideals (see above.) In the fact that these relationships, which are important to me, apparently have to change. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to give in, go back to thinking that if we don't talk about social and political issues, then they don't affect us. And to thinking that just thinking about ourselves is enough. I don't miss those days at all, not truly. Not knowing how much damage they did to all of us. I guess I'm saying I understand why so many white folks do miss that, and why they choose to look away again now.
I'll keep trying. Another thing I'm learning is how much time—unpredictable, unmeasurable time—change inside a person, or a family, or a nation, takes. I'll keep reminding myself this is a marathon. Thanks for the inspiration, Garrett.
Oof, that feeling is so real and I totally hear you Tara. If it's any consolation, one refrain I've heard a lot from truly talented organizers is that the ability to have transformative conversations with loved ones/folks closest to us is often MUCH harder than it is for more collegial relationships and/or strangers. It makes sense-- with folks with whom we have shared history, there's so much weighing on every conversation-- other dynamics in the relationship, fear of judgment, etc. It doesn't make it impossible but it does make the change more gradual (which I know you know, but yeah... that is disappointing). I just want to affirm that you're not doing anything wrong. [As a quick aside, sometimes in situations like the one's you're in, I've been able to help kickstart things with the question "hey, talking politics with me is really annoying, isn't it. What do you dislike most about it?"-- maybe that helps unlock some of the walls you're experiencing it, maybe not-- again, though, be kind to yourself... this is hard].
It makes sense that it would be harder to make progress in close close relationships than in ones where all parties have less invested. I appreciate that reminder; thank you.
Ok, I cracked up at that kickstart question. I am *definitely* going to use that! I think one of the things that bugs the folks in question is how serious and intense they perceive political discussions to be. So a joke at my expense is probably going to be a winner.
Thanks to everyone for all the comments and information below -- I wanted to add in one more layer which I've been thinking about a lot, which is the grief/sadness we experience when we start to dig into those conversations and find out that our neighbors, family, friends, etc aren't exactly who we thought they were (and even the grief we experience when we ourselves realize we're not as "good" as we thought we were, but that's a whole other conversation). It's a loss, even if just temporarily, or even just the threat of loss that I find prevents me from digging in a bit more. I bring this up because I've been wondering if this is compounded by the physical and emotional impact of living in a pandemic. We're so desperate for human connection that jeopardizing those ties (especially to those who we are in regular contact with) feels extra sad. Its something I've been navigating. I don't think there is a "right" answer here, but it's another dynamic that I've been experiencing in addition to what your'e sharing here Tara.
Absolutely this.
I do think Pandemic Stress must compound these emotions. For us, and also for our loved ones who probably feel a different sort of grief on their end.
This isn't a question starter but it's something I've been thinking about for a long time (and said in an interview here but longer: https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/articles/a-talk-with-antonia-malchik-author-of-a-walking-life/), which is how we ended up in a place where whom a person voted for, or their political ideology, became the most important thing about who they are as a human being. I don't know where to go with that right now, especially as ideology and votes have such massive and obvious effects on millions of lives. But am also reminded that there are times when being Protestant or Catholic could be life or death identities, and similar divisions exist now all over the world.
First off, that's a really great interview and I'm really glad that I've gotten to read it now. Secondly, while I can't point to the origin (my best bet would be the Bowling Alone theory of decline in civic group connections and/or Kruse/Zelizer's theory of 1974 as this dividing line in polarization but I'm just grabbing straws), I totally agree that this is where we're at and it's a mess. And then, we try to change the minds of folks with whom they disagree, we assume they can start at the end point-- like "ok, let me try to get you on board for the Green New Deal or convince you that defund the police is good not bad." While it's great to be urgent and honest about critical issues we care about, what it says implicitly is "the only way you matter to me is if you end up agreeing with me on this issue" rather than building a relationship deep and complex enough that you have a sense of somebody's motivations and fears and that, out of that relationship, you help that person bring a fuller and more loving version of themselves into their politics.
That is beautifully said. I think Bowling Alone's points brought out a lot of this, though I agree it started earlier. One of the things I wrote about in my book (not trying to promote it here, just want to be transparent about my sourcing) is that a big factor is the *physical* silo-ing through highway building and subsidizing suburbs, themes that come up in Bowling Alone, too, especially when he talks about people flocking to mega-churches because they no longer have physical communities where they can gather for other reasons. Chris Lehane, a former political consultant for Bill Clinton, has said that, when Jimmy Carter won the presidency in 1976, “about seventy-five percent of the country lived in voting precincts—neighborhoods—that reflected the general vote, and that was about a one-point election. What you saw in 2012 and 2004 and 2000 was almost a reverse of that,” with an overwhelming percentage now living in landslide districts, which he said has an enormous impact on our ability to find common ground. (That's from a 2013 Commonwealth Club conversation, which I just realized was with the same Steve Schmidt who's now a Lincoln Project person! Wow, that's a change: https://www.commonwealthclub.org/events/2013-03-19/game-change-chris-lehane-and-steve-schmidt)
Anyway, yes, this whole thing about "unless you agree with me I can't have a relationship with you" is one of the cruxes of the issue, though it's easier for me because my family is all fairly progressive-- for friends whose parents and/or siblings are anti-immigrant, anti-LGBTQI it's so much harder because it can be something that negates your very personhood. But I guess that's one of the difficult parts of the conversation to be had, eventually. How their viewpoints affect people they love personally.
A friend of mine here published a paper on difficult conversations. Her main finding was that the conversations were more productive when people's main goal was in maintaining the relationship rather than winning the argument. Which is right in line with what I'm reading as part of your goals with your own project?
These are all such good points, both of you. So glad we are having this conversation!
It's striking me as I read how much I've actually shifted *away* from this thing that I've always tried to value, which you (Antonia) stated as "maintaining the relationship rather than winning the argument. " I haven't done this at all intentionally; it's sort of a function of trying to help or heal or do anything at all in this increasingly separated society you're both describing. Living this way creates more living this way, I guess, even when we're aware of living this way, and we don't like it, it starts to be the air we breathe at some point.
So I'm trying to figure out how to take this forward. Maybe it does make sense to outwardly do as my original FIQ would prefer, and "never talk politics." Meaning neither bring up nor engage with Opinions about specific candidates or broadly-delineated issues. But stay awake to when my FIQ bring up interests or worries, or respond to mine, and use those opportunities to ask them questions and not give them answers...This is very imperfect and theoretical and probably missing a ton...
Well, I think it’s valid to acknowledge how taxing it can be and the need to give yourself some breathers. And I dunno, but maybe there’s some efficacy in showing emotions like sorrow in lieu of anger sometimes? I found myself in that space with a neighbor at one point, involuntarily crying because while I was trying not to disagree but just listen, her viewpoint made me so sad. When that happened it opened a tiny space for me to express something I cared about.
100% this. In fact, I'm so glad you said this, because it reminds me of something I hold very much in common with the folks in question (FIQ): we all agree that each other's politics are not the most important thing about our identities in relationship to each other. Which might be good to affirm more often and more concretely with them than I do.
Same. And it's hard because at some point you have to vote, and vote for someone, and sometimes that vote negates someone else's right to exist or to thrive. Finding a place to struggle with *that* is probably what makes this so hard.
Yes! And then finding that folks you love *don't* necessarily value the fact that this is a struggle—that's another layer of difficulty.
It's all a rich tapestry ... :/
(Deleted to correct the typo.)
This is tremendous, Garrett, thank you. Exactly the pointers and specifics and reminders I needed to hear for planning going forward.
Thank you Antonia!
I have read this piece three times and I think I need to read it again. So much to think about. I think the line that is sticking with me/convicting me the most is "Organizing isn’t yelling across a canyon asking people to join us, it’s helping them imagine how beautiful the other side must be and then figuring out how to build the bridge together." You are giving me some hope.
Don't know if you've ever read this before, but it's an historical longform essay on similar themes to the LARB review you linked to: http://www.stirjournal.com/2016/04/01/i-know-why-poor-whites-chant-trump-trump-trump/
Oh whoa i hadn't seen that essay yet but it's so so good
I should caveat that I used to be managing editor at that magazine (it no longer publishes), though I had nothing to do with that particular essay. Sometimes the date of it blows my mind, it seems even more relevant now though it was published before the 2016 election.