As long as we鈥檙e talking
My dad was a great talker. For a man who spent 30 years in personnel and labor relations, the most important thing to him was communication. It was a skill, an art form, a vocation, and a passion; it was the essence of his lively and loquacious spirit. Communication was his credo. 鈥淎s long as we鈥檙e talking ...鈥� he鈥檇 say. Everything would be OK, as long as we鈥檙e talking. It鈥檚 particularly important advice to heed in these times, when people seem more likely to shout.
After years in labor negotiations, Dad had many stories and insights about the art of talking. For example, he knew that contracts were rarely decided in rooms where pounding tables and shouting were the preferred techniques. The ultimate agreement was likely to be confirmed later, across the street from the plant at a tavern, where calm prevailed.
I remember theorizing with Dad that if all the members of Congress lived in the same neighborhood and walked together each morning discussing, debating, and arguing the issues, we鈥檇 have a more perfect union. Even if they didn鈥檛 change their minds, they鈥檇 still like each other a lot more and perhaps even understand the other side.
My dad and his lifelong friend Tom spent years walking our subdivision, arguing over every issue they could find. They鈥檇 often wake the neighborhood, a conservative Roman Catholic Republican sparring with a liberal Protestant Democrat. They didn鈥檛 resolve much, but each was better off, for the walk and the talk. Good things can happen as long as we鈥檙e talking. We hear too often how both sides are 鈥渄one talking鈥� because no progress has been made. My dad and Tom would say they weren鈥檛 even close to done and hadn鈥檛 talked nearly enough.
Dad was always talking, even to himself. I remember riding in the car with him and watching him 鈥渢alk things through,鈥� his hands framing ideas subtly on the steering wheel, and his lips moving ever so slightly as he formulated ideas into words. In fact, it was his gift of gab that scored him his career.聽
He was fond of telling the story of walking across campus at Southern Illinois University when he saw Owens-Illinois was interviewing job candidates, and an old buddy was the rep. Dad, being a gregarious sort, always bopping in and out of everyone鈥檚 day, stopped to chat. After a while, shooting the breeze and chewing the fat, his friend asked him, 鈥淪o, you want a job?鈥澛�
Doing what? Dad asked. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know anything about glass manufacturing.鈥澛�
That鈥檚 OK, came the reply. 鈥淵ou鈥檒l figure it out.鈥� Dad had talked his way into a job, and kept talking his way forward in a successful career.
My father and I had some rules for talking when I was a petulant teenager. For example, we would never go to bed angry. It didn鈥檛 matter how late it was, with me at the bottom of the stairs and Dad sitting at his desk. And it always ended with a hug, no matter how heated the talking had been. We learned a lot by talking and perhaps just as much when we didn鈥檛. When I鈥檇 moved away, for instance, we discovered that email is a terrible way to talk things out. Even the phone can be tough, for there鈥檚 no hug or smile at the end. Talking was also conflict resolution, an essential part of Dad鈥檚 parenting style. To be honest, his insistence on talking it out was kind of a pain when I was a kid and had done something wrong: Can鈥檛 you just ground me and get it over with? No. It was never just a punishment 鈥� it was a learning opportunity.
Dad and I had long, deep, and occasionally contentious discussions as we sought to make sense of the world. When Mom would remark on the intensity of our debates, Dad would play down the seriousness of our tone.聽
鈥淢ichael and I are just solving the problems of the world and figuring out the mysteries of the universe,鈥� he鈥檇 say.聽
Dad鈥檚 lesson is one that all of us can use. Talk. Really talk to each other. And keep talking. My colleagues might cringe at that proposal, knowing I always have something to say. And it鈥檚 been my professional goal lately to do more listening. But I do know that, as long as we鈥檙e talking, there鈥檚 hope.聽
I鈥檝e thought of Dad鈥檚 words often in my job as an educator, especially in working on issues of equity, diversity, and race. My work has been informed by the ideas of Dr. Glenn Singleton, who for聽decades has encouraged having courageous conversations. In doing so, we must be willing to engage and be vulnerable. In doing the tough work of talking it out, we must also willingly accept and expect nonclosure. We won鈥檛 solve the problem in one setting. The conversation is ongoing and endless. At times it may seem fruitless, even hopeless. But it鈥檚 not ... as long as we鈥檙e talking.
