We're Not a Country Divided

If I had a dime for each time I heard someone say “I hate people” I’d have sacksful. I’m not sure how this phrase got legs. Traffic is bad, someone cuts you off, and it’s “I hate people.” A social media war breaks out over the latest political news, the arguments on both sides filled with vitriol…” I hate people” you might think.

But do we really hate people? Or is it that we find some behavior irritating, distasteful, and irrational? And what measuring stick are we using to assess others’ behavior? It’s the ruler of our own experience. Our personal schema. And noticing when someone does something that makes us feel angry. If we flip the script, how often do we notice when someone does something good? And if we do notice, do we say, “I love people?”

In the news, on podcasts, and in other public outlets, I often hear another phrase: “We’re a divided country.” This frequent messaging that we’re a land of people who disagree is a gong being hit over and over. We’re reminded daily that we have different opinions, viewpoints, values, and opportunities. Of course we do, we’ve all lived completely different lives. Is the young man who grew up in the mountains of Appalachia going to have the same thoughts and feelings as the young woman who grew up in the busy streets of Manhattan? Is the 93-year-old great-great-grandmother going to see the world the same as the twenty-one-year-old college student?

I hope not.

We’re not a country divided. We’re a country that has lost its desire to learn and listen. We’re a country that is “type first” and “ask questions later.” We’re a country that has made up its mind and makes statements instead of forming inquiries. What happened to asking questions? What happened to curiosity?

This is what I love about children. (Well, I love many things, but their curiosity is the one thing that always fills me with joy). Sure, it’s annoying when your child asks “Are we there yet?” or “Why does this happen?” or “Why can’t I have another cookie?” like a broken record. Our frustrated response to our children of “Because I say so” shuts down the conversation, leaving a teaching and learning moment behind. I remember when my son was little. He would ask questions like “What is the tallest building in the world?” or “Who is the oldest living person?” We’d look it up together and learn.

What if we approached conversations like wide-eyed children, seeing the world as a place to discover instead of a place we’ve made up our minds about? And how might this improve our mental health? How might it feel better to switch from having our heels dug in on our own stance on an issue to learning more about the other person’s story that undergirds their beliefs? This approach takes the onus off of our shoulders to be the one who knows absolutely everything about anything. But what do we really know? It’s closer to nothing.

If we’re honest with ourselves, we’re not frustrated as much by others’ values and opinions that are different from ours, we’re frustrated by their perceived lack of flexibility. Can’t they just “see it our way?” Doesn’t this mean we’re also inflexible?

If you’re someone who is disinterested in discovering why people think and feel the way they do, you might want to stop reading this newsletter now and accept that if you believe this country is divided, the hard truth is, you’re part of the problem. Keep those heels dug in. Stick to your guns, you self-righteous know-it-all (I say this with a loving smile on my face). We can all be self-righteous know-it-alls, but we can be something else. Something more. Something better.

If you’re someone who would like to change this narrative, to send new messages about coming together and being (more) united, read on.

Being (more) united does not mean agreeing. It does not mean someone sees things our way or affirms our thoughts and opinions. It means we take the opportunity to listen. We tell ourselves we can see how they arrived at their conclusions without taking their truth on board. We accept their inflexibility as part of their story, their background. We hope by asking questions and showing interest in learning their story that we’re planting a seed.

The workplace is a breeding ground for water cooler disagreements. The news offers us new and polarizing things for daily interpersonal conflict. We get baited. We get triggered. We may not have the resilience to resist. We become tangled. Then, we decide we’re only going to engage people who agree with us. Make life easy. Unfriend and block all those disagreers.

Pause. Take a deep breath. Offer a question instead of a statement when an office mate opens the door for disagreement. “Would you tell me more about your thoughts on that?” “What brought you to that conclusion? I’m genuinely interested.” Pass the ball. Use curiosity to do the work.

We argue to be heard. We disagree to reinforce our stance. We keep our country divided as if we want it to be divided. We don’t ask questions. We don’t listen to understand. We listen just enough to ready our own mental troops. And if we’re going to be (more) united, we must change course. We must shift our sails.

But first, we have to ask ourselves if we want to grow united. I know I do. And I know that in order to find common ground with someone, I must ask them about themselves. I must, in good faith, show genuine curiosity about their journey to this place where they’ve made up their mind. I must seek to understand, not pursue holes in their logic I intend to fill. This builds relationships, and it’s in building relationships that we build a united country.

My husband and I just watched Gladiator II over the weekend. The end scene (SPOILER ALERT) had two contingents of the Roman army in a face-off. They were at a crossroad. They could fight each other and keep Rome divided. Or they could acknowledge that those in power were not greater than their collective goal to be a united empire. And, with a little wisdom from Lucius, they envisioned just that.

So, the next time you feel the itch to fight back, recognize it as a chance to unite. Political wars are not greater than our ability to search for meaning instead of answers. There is no absolute truth, only personal truth. Let’s dig our heels in on common ground, what unites us, instead of what divides us. The only way to find that common ground is to widen our eyes and open our minds. To ask. Then, listen with the goal of building a relationship instead of the goal of changing someone’s mind.

It takes some humility, and courage, and practice. We’re worth it.