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The Timeline Grows Ever Darker...
May. 17th, 2019 09:39 amDo you remember, right after Trump was elected, the article that was first posted on Facebook that everyone seemed to reprint, which was "20 Lessons on How to Survive Fascism"? It's always worth a reread. I've been thinking about that article a lot, on and off, throughout these four years. Some of the pointers are very "big," like the concept of 'don't obey in advance" and "stand out." But, the one I keep returning to again and again is the idea that small talk is valuable. From the article:
Along with the concept that we should cultivate friends in other countries, this is a huge reason why I have been continuing to write to my pen friends around the world.
A lot of what we write to each other would very likely constitute what most people would categorize as 'small talk,' but lately I've been resisting the idea that those kinds of conversations about the weather and gardening and the mundanity of life are, in any way, SMALL.
I think they tend to get minimized because people are impatient. (Also sexism, but I won't get into that right now, but I do think this is very similar to the divide between so called high art and folk art. If it's useful and a woman made it, like a quilt, it's folk art. If a man painted it and it serves no actual purpose beyond beauty, it's high art.)
More and more, particularly with the advent of smartphone where we can have a zillion more interesting conversations in our pocket (and an increasing sense of missing out on something cooler, over there,) people are anxious to get to the "good stuff." They don't want to take the time to lay the foundational chatter. Like today, at my coffee shop, my barista and I had a completely "small" exchange about my Caribou Perks card because I accidentally presented that to be punched at this locally owned shop. She told me she used to work at Caribou and we exchanged a bunch of completely mundane observations about Caribou--it's quality of coffee, the fact that I had a friend who used to manage one back in the 1990s, the concept of "Boo Bucks" (pre-point system stuff) and then, fascinatingly, because we'd gone down this twisty road, we ended up talking about the culture of harassment that my barista left behind in frustration after sixteen years at Caribou. CREEPY things people said to her, etc. It was a fascinating conversation because the other barista, a guy, had similar stories to share, though less about customers being sexually creepy to him specifically. We spent several more minutes trying to decide if what happened to these two at that specific company was endemic to that company or was if there was something about the commercial coffeeshops that fostered certain kinds of people/harassment.
Fascinating.
And not at all 'small.'
Yet, we would never have gotten there if I hadn't patiently engaged in a whole lot of small talk previously. To be fair, by "previously," i also mean months and months of chatting amiably with these folks behind the counter, too.
Some of this, admittedly, is me. I am 100% the sort of person who is genuinely interested in everything about your life. You want to tell me about the day you spent doing laundry; I totally want to hear it, all of it, all the details. Maybe this is part of why I'm a writer. It's certainly a HUGE part of why I'm a reader.
Mason will also tell you that I'm uncannily good at drawing strangers into conversation. He finds it kind of baffling, in the way of teenagers, but he will also tell other people this fact about me with with a odd sort of pride, ala, "You have no idea. I come out from class to go to a doctor's appointment and there's ima, chatting with the security guard, laughing like they're old friends."
That was a fascinating conversation, too, actually, We started by talking about the weather, for real. I made that joke about how the reason we live where the air hurts our faces it because we don't have to deal with giant scorpions and boa constrictors, and that prompted her to tell me about an amazing trip she'd taken with her family (sisters, I think,) to Texas and the weird encounter they'd had with some crows or magpies. She started the story with, "Have you ever seen Alfred Hitchcock's 'The Birds'??" and I knew it was going to be a good story from there.... and all because I spent five minutes LITERALLY discussing the weather.
I doubt any of this this will actually save us from fascism--I mean, it hasn't so far, if today's news is any indication. But, I do think making human connections strengthens one's soul. If nothing else, it keeps me exercising my 'compassion' and 'empathy' muscles, all of which this current administration would really like to gaslight and bludgeon out of us with their constant misinformation and lies.
"11. Make eye contact and small talk. This is not just polite. It is a way to stay in touch with your surroundings, break down unnecessary social barriers, and come to understand whom you should and should not trust. If we enter a culture of denunciation, you will want to know the psychological landscape of your daily life."
Along with the concept that we should cultivate friends in other countries, this is a huge reason why I have been continuing to write to my pen friends around the world.
A lot of what we write to each other would very likely constitute what most people would categorize as 'small talk,' but lately I've been resisting the idea that those kinds of conversations about the weather and gardening and the mundanity of life are, in any way, SMALL.
I think they tend to get minimized because people are impatient. (Also sexism, but I won't get into that right now, but I do think this is very similar to the divide between so called high art and folk art. If it's useful and a woman made it, like a quilt, it's folk art. If a man painted it and it serves no actual purpose beyond beauty, it's high art.)
More and more, particularly with the advent of smartphone where we can have a zillion more interesting conversations in our pocket (and an increasing sense of missing out on something cooler, over there,) people are anxious to get to the "good stuff." They don't want to take the time to lay the foundational chatter. Like today, at my coffee shop, my barista and I had a completely "small" exchange about my Caribou Perks card because I accidentally presented that to be punched at this locally owned shop. She told me she used to work at Caribou and we exchanged a bunch of completely mundane observations about Caribou--it's quality of coffee, the fact that I had a friend who used to manage one back in the 1990s, the concept of "Boo Bucks" (pre-point system stuff) and then, fascinatingly, because we'd gone down this twisty road, we ended up talking about the culture of harassment that my barista left behind in frustration after sixteen years at Caribou. CREEPY things people said to her, etc. It was a fascinating conversation because the other barista, a guy, had similar stories to share, though less about customers being sexually creepy to him specifically. We spent several more minutes trying to decide if what happened to these two at that specific company was endemic to that company or was if there was something about the commercial coffeeshops that fostered certain kinds of people/harassment.
Fascinating.
And not at all 'small.'
Yet, we would never have gotten there if I hadn't patiently engaged in a whole lot of small talk previously. To be fair, by "previously," i also mean months and months of chatting amiably with these folks behind the counter, too.
Some of this, admittedly, is me. I am 100% the sort of person who is genuinely interested in everything about your life. You want to tell me about the day you spent doing laundry; I totally want to hear it, all of it, all the details. Maybe this is part of why I'm a writer. It's certainly a HUGE part of why I'm a reader.
Mason will also tell you that I'm uncannily good at drawing strangers into conversation. He finds it kind of baffling, in the way of teenagers, but he will also tell other people this fact about me with with a odd sort of pride, ala, "You have no idea. I come out from class to go to a doctor's appointment and there's ima, chatting with the security guard, laughing like they're old friends."
That was a fascinating conversation, too, actually, We started by talking about the weather, for real. I made that joke about how the reason we live where the air hurts our faces it because we don't have to deal with giant scorpions and boa constrictors, and that prompted her to tell me about an amazing trip she'd taken with her family (sisters, I think,) to Texas and the weird encounter they'd had with some crows or magpies. She started the story with, "Have you ever seen Alfred Hitchcock's 'The Birds'??" and I knew it was going to be a good story from there.... and all because I spent five minutes LITERALLY discussing the weather.
I doubt any of this this will actually save us from fascism--I mean, it hasn't so far, if today's news is any indication. But, I do think making human connections strengthens one's soul. If nothing else, it keeps me exercising my 'compassion' and 'empathy' muscles, all of which this current administration would really like to gaslight and bludgeon out of us with their constant misinformation and lies.