The Fine Art of Speaking Up

I'm a middle-of-the-road person, inclined towards a live & let live philosophy. Much of the reason for this is because getting whipped up about things takes energy, and I'd rather spend energy doing something like making music or planting roses. Even when engaged in things that I hope will make the world a better place to live, I've habitually gravitated towards feel-good activities.

I've noticed that many middle-roaders share certain characteristics. Temperamentally we're moderate, even laid-back. We distrust drama and may be adverse to conflict even when it's justified. Given the choice between spending a sunny Saturday afternoon agitating for anything, even something we deeply believe in, and sitting in the garden catching up on news with our neighbors, we prefer the latter. I have to confess that I find firecracker personalities both fascinating and puzzling; where do they get all that snap, crackle & pop?

Sometimes live & let live works, especially when a problem is small enough to let it pass. Sometimes, though, a failure to speak up is a cop-out Choosing to do the right thing might cause momentary discomfort. I had one of those moments not long ago when someone I was with made a mean-spirited comment about the people from a certain country. He tossed off the comment in an almost innocent manner; I had the impression that he simply assumed I agreed with him.

What to do? Someone who relishes heated debate (I have friends and family who do) would jump into the ring with fists swinging. I'm not one of those people. But this guy's remark was offensive and untrue. If I let it pass, he'd get the message that it was OK.

I decided to approach it the same way I would with kids. In a neutral tone I said something like "Oh, I know some people from (country). They don't seem like that at all." Then I reminded him of the task at hand, and we slid back into work mode. Since then he hasn't made any more such remarks when we work together. I don't believe for a moment that his opinion of this group of people has changed, but at least he knows that I won't go along with the stereotyping

More than that, he's aware that someone he actually likes and respects, at least on a professional level, doesn't see eye to eye with him This was a remarkable discovery when I made it for myself years ago - I can thoroughly disagree with someone in the political and religious arena but still feel great affection for him or her It's an opportunity that those who only hang with their "own kind" never get to experience.

Sometimes in order to grow, we need to do uncomfortable work. I find that during high-growth times, life often presents me with certain recurring situations, thereby giving me plenty of opportunity to practice the skills needed during the next phase of life. During this past year, the recurring theme has been Speaking Up.

I've learned a few things during the process of practicing disagreement without being disagreeable:

• The key to busting stereotypes is to see people as individuals, not merely as components of a group. Read the comment threads on news websites and you'll see some scary examples of how "-ists" and "-ism" language is used to nurture divisions and fear. I call it "Otherizing." Once someone becomes a part of The Other, it's easy to justify villifying him. We are all much more than a sum of our beliefs and associations.
• People say and do things because it makes sense to them at the time. I have to remind myself of this constantly. No matter how outrageous the belief seems to me, the person expressing it thinks it's true.
  
• A simple statement delivered in a matter-of-fact, drama-free manner can be surprisingly effective. So can referring to personal experience. Last week when a member of a group I'm in made a negative comment about a certain profession, I told her "I know someone who used to be a (job title) and he's a great guy. You'd like him." It put a human face on a divisive issue.
• When all else fails, I use a tactic that my husband and I taught our son: agree to disagree. I think of it as A2D. Simply saying, "We'll have to agree to disagree on that one" gets the message across perfectly. It tells the debater that you don't agree with him but you're not going to fight about it. On the rare occasion that a debate is truly an exchange of ideas, I don't mind sharing and listening. but in my experience, it's more often about power. If I refuse to enter the ring, there's no fight.
  
  Sometimes - on rare occasions - the person with whom I'm dealing isn't interested in seeing me or anyone else as a person, and simply wants to slug away. If the issue is important, I'll accept the challenge, although not without a feeling of annoyance. But I'm finding that most people I encounter don't go that far. Once most of us can see the Other as a human being with a face, a name, a family, hopes and dreams, it's awfully hard to deliver the first punch.

A2D

Summer is the time for class reunions and other events involving getting together with large numbers of people you might not see often. You may have been close at one time but grew apart over the years. Or you might be part of the same extended family but never quite saw eye-to-eye. Judging from the vast amount of literature - books, magazines, websites - on managing social or family-related holiday stress, a lot of people feel trepidation over these gatherings. Much of the stress seems to come from ongoing disagreements over lifestyle, politics, religion and other personal choices.

Although I haven't experienced the intense ongoing conflict that friends have described to me, I've been through a fair number of incidents where I felt uncomfortable and unsure how to respond. During one large event, one person arrived so amped up by a political cause she'd joined that she forced the topic into every conversation, loudly and aggressively. I had the sense that she was (perhaps subconsciously) looking for an argument, and I didn't feel like obliging her. Nor did I want her to leave the event with the impression that everyone felt the same way, which was what would happen if no one spoke up. At a smaller gathering, about 10 of us were sitting around the table, and someone made a statement about a certain group of people in a manner that implied we all agreed.

Both times I was stuck for words. It wasn't until my son, age 12 at the time, confessed to me that he'd had an argument with a cousin over religious beliefs that I decided to come up with better ways to deal with disagreement than either fighting or staying silent. After a lot of experimenting, I've noticed that one simple sentence does the trick most of the time: "We'll have to agree to disagree." I call it A2D.

A2D works because it lets the person pushing the envelope know that you don't agree but that you're not willing to duke it out. Of course, if you enjoy loud debates and stirring things up, it's not an issue. But if you'd rather spend precious time with friends or relatives enjoying their company, it's your right to refuse to argue. It's also your right to be treated respectfully. A2D is the most effective one-liner I've found that gets this message across.

Before heading out to another "do," I coached my son on various ways to respond to aggressive or hostile exchanges arising from differences of opinion. We rehearsed A2D and other scenarios. He felt more confident after that.

People who live outside the lines are especially susceptible to feeling like outsiders within their own family or school. Using A2D eliminates some of the stress engendered by feeling as though you have to defend who you are.