Understanding the Unfamiliar
Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. - Martin Luther King Jr.
Xenophobia is the fear or hatred of that which is perceived to be foreign or strange. But why are we afraid of what isn’t familiar? In recent months, I have had two potent unfamiliar experiences that have taught me a very important lesson: sometimes all that is required is listening.
The first was a dinner with my now husband and my mom. Jeffery expressed that I had used the term ‘boy’ in a way that was hurtful to him. It felt like a punch to the gut; I should have known better, I told myself. I proceeded to ask him a million questions; when did I say it, how did I say it, can you remember the last time I said it? I could feel my eyes welling up with tears, and he became angry and shut down. I pleaded with him to help me understand what I did so I could not do it again.
The truth here is that I did not know better. The hurtfulness caused by the term ‘boy’ was unfamiliar to me, and it scared me. It scared me because I didn’t want to hurt my husband, and I wasn’t sure I could trust myself not to say hurtful things again. What I failed to do in that moment was listen and respond with empathy to his pain. He was hurting and I was concerned about me, causing more pain for him in that moment. If I could rewind this experience, here is how I would respond:
Jeffery: You used the term ‘boy’ and it’s hurtful.
Me: I am so sorry I hurt you, is there anything else you’d like to share?
Jeffery: I need you to take responsibility for understanding why this term could be hurtful to me
Me: Of course.
What was once unfamiliar can become familiar if we take the time to educate ourselves. Humans are wired to fill in the blanks of the unknown. Your eyes, for example, will see things that aren’t there because your brain wants to make sense of your surroundings. Our minds tend to work similarly. When we don’t have all the information about a situation, person, etc. -- we will “fill in the blanks” by creating stories that seem to make sense. These stories are meant to protect us, but can be much scarier than reality. Taking time to listen and educate ourselves before jumping to conclusions is one way to help us understand the truth about what isn’t familiar.
The second enlightening unfamiliar experience I had recently was with a large group of black and brown women and men, and I was the only white person in the room. We came together to create vision boards for 2020, and found ourselves in a discussion about a frustrating work environment over dinner. Two or three of the women were sharing stories about how leaders at their company were unwilling to get specific about how they plan to hold their teams accountable to diversity goals. I shared how I felt it was particularly challenging to collaborate across the company, but that one project in particular gave me signs of hope. After this brief exchange of words, I felt an intense divide in the room. It was clear I had said something that made them feel that I was an outsider.
After playing these moments over in my mind, I realized that I had made the same mistake I did the first time; all that I needed to do in that moment to empathize and connect with them was to listen. In the past, I have made efforts to connect with others by sharing similar or familiar stories. But what can you do when you don’t have similar stories to share?
If I could hit rewind this time, I would choose a different path. Instead of sharing a story that was a far cry from similar -- in fact, the only similarity was that it was also a frustrating experience -- I would have just sat there and listened. I would have given them the time and space to share their experiences, and showed my support with my body language and energy; not by adding unrelated negativity to the conversation.
As Maya Angelou said, “when you know better, you do better”. Next time, I will know better and can do better.