It started in a parking lot. I noticed and greatly admired his old, possibly vintage, car, and told him so as he stood behind it, awaiting his partner outside the grocery store. What I thought would be a very brief chat actually turned out to be a much longer conversation. Of course we spoke of the pandemic and its impact on our lives and those of our family and friends, the weather, and rather quickly turned to politics. We then proceeded a little more cautiously, feeling one another out till we found we were a bit off center from one another: he for one candidate, but not sure this time, and I for the other, but hopeful.
We might have just stopped there, but each of us seemed to want to explore the other’s position a little more. We did, and it didn’t take long to recognize we held quite similar values and expectations, just different ways of imagining who could better bring that about. We reflected on previous presidents and our respective voting record and the reasons why. We both lamented the polarization in our country but didn’t deny the deep divide between others we each knew to be on one hard-held side and another equally so.
We didn’t engage in any conversational poker, each trying to outmatch the other by slamming down a factoid, latest rumor or conspiracy theory. Instead we just explored one another’s likely voting preferences. We ended up exchanging names and wishing one another well.
Of course I was late getting back home. But on the way back I made a resolution. Namely, I would find a way to have one of these conversations each day between now and the November general election. Just one a day. Of course it would be necessary to find a conversational opening that would be neither aggressive nor confrontational, and be ready to be rebuffed. But the fellow’s agreement that we Americans desperately needed to have conversations across differences kept spurring me on.
Yes, it is risky, perhaps even more so than inquiring why a fellow shopper isn’t wearing a face mask. But if we do not take the chance and reach out to see if we have any common ground with all those who bear the same citizenship as do we, what chance do we have collectively or individually?
We in New Hampshire are jokingly said to have made politics our state sport. If so, should we not get into the game? In his new book, Montana Sen. Jon Tester recounts his almost life-long effort to cross divides of class and geography, and in his political life, to understand the issues that keep us truly grounded, as he still very much is in his farm in rural Montana.
Whether it’s a parking lot or another venue, we need to take that first step.