An Uncomfortable Conversation With Unexpected Insights
My College Encounter With a Naive But Receptive White Guy
“Not-knowing is true knowledge. Presuming to know is a disease. First realize that you are sick; then you can move toward health. The Sage is his/her own physician.”
Verse 71 — Tao Te Ching
In 1985, as a junior Sociology student at Ohio State, I encountered an intriguing scenario that has stayed with me over the years. This experience, marked by unexpected dialogue and a car ride in a fancy vehicle, unfolded with a hallway neighbor in my apartment complex named Kent.
A towering, bearded figure of a white guy from rural Ohio, he approached me one afternoon after a prompt from my roommate, Brian. Kent's opening words were nervously delivered, highlighting his sheltered upbringing as a farm boy seasoned with a curiosity about my life as a Black student.
My first reaction was surprise. Here was Kent, admitting his ignorance and seeking understanding from someone whose background was worlds apart from his own. So one Friday night we agreed to venture to a local pub for what would be a revelatory conversation. As we navigated topics of race, upbringing, and the stark differences in our childhoods, the evening turned into a rich exchange of stories and confessions.
Kent, raised in a bigoted environment per his admission, listened intently as I shared insights from my life, shaped by educated and socially-aware parents. The juxtaposition was stark and telling. As the night wore on, laden with a flurry of discussions and drinks, I later found myself driving Kent's much-admired car back to our apartment, a symbol of the trust and connection we had forged.
From an Eastern philosophical perspective, our encounter could be likened to the Zen concept of Shoshin, or "beginner's mind." Kent approached me with a beginner’s mind, which is open and devoid of preconceptions, much like a novice Zen practitioner.
This attitude is in my view essential for true understanding and learning. In other words, his ability to acknowledge his lack of knowledge and willingness to learn from someone different from him helped bridge the gap between our respective experiences
Looking back at this moment of connection amidst the cultural and racial divides of our time underscores the profound impact of asking questions and genuinely listening. In a world currently rife with conflict and division, the simple yet profound act of engaging in dialogue—approaching others with curiosity rather than judgment—can help pave the way for mutual respect and understanding.
Eastern philosophy also teaches us about interconnectedness (Pratītyasamutpāda in Buddhism), suggesting that everything is interconnected and our actions influence others. Kent’s initiative to learn about my experience not only affected his perceptions but also enriched my own understanding of others' perspectives.
Our experience also touched on the Taoist idea of Wu Wei, or action through non-action, which means that often the best way to address issues is by not forcing solutions but by allowing understanding and relationships to evolve naturally through open dialogue. As we conversed, there was no forced agenda to change inherent biases overnight; instead, there was a natural, organic flow to our discussion, which allowed genuine change to take place.
The lessons from that evening are increasingly relevant today. In our prevailing divided world, the courage to step out of one's comfort zone and engage with the "other" can lead to transformative experiences. Kent and I, from our vastly different backgrounds exemplify this as we managed to connect on a human level, proving that the walls we build around our identities and histories are penetrable.
These reflections from a seemingly simple college interaction hint at a broader truth: resolution in conflict-laden times might just lie in the humility to admit what we do not know and the boldness to learn about it directly from each other. In doing so, we not only enrich our own lives but also contribute to a more understanding and less divided world.
The Chocolate Taoist is a reader-supported publication. To receive my weekly reflections and aid my independent writing journey, please consider becoming a subscriber or member supporter.
Every little bit counts.
PS: My book is set to release on September 1, 2024. A free copy will be sent to all paid member supporters.
Thank you! Kudos to the white guy (smile) and you. When I hit the road over 40 years ago as a workplace trainer and consultant, my first gig was in a small town in Minnesota, a three-day retreat. I was asked to work with a group of social workers, teachers, and church women who were involved in a movement to support what were then called "displaced homeworkers" – divorced and widowed women who were left financially at sea without their husbands. This group found themselves at odds with the people who espoused a traditional culture in their community, which seemed to be convinced that women should not work outside the home and become independent. Like they should sit at home with their kids and starve? (So strange)
So I was there to teach about conflict management, negotiation, building coalitions, and a big dose of political savvy.
One of the women approached me the second day during a break. Told me how much everyone was enjoying the program. Then she said, "Okay Pat, we are all wondering. You said your maiden name is Wagner. So are you German Catholic or German Lutheran?"
"Oh, I said, "Actually, we are not sure why we ended up with the name Wagner, but my heritage is 100% Eastern European Jew. Both sides." (Since then I realized that Wagner is a great stealth name for a Jew. Learned a lot just listening.)
Silence.
The group reconvened. Word had spread. Very uncomfortable.
I had an inspiration.
"I am not an observant Jew, but I know stuff. I will assume that any question is asked with good intentions, regardless of the content. Do you have any questions?"
The first inquiry from this group of college-educated women:
"When did Jews stop using Christian babies in blood sacrifices?"
I explained about the Blood Libel and such. They nodded and thanked me. From then on, especially when I was presenting in small-town America, even though I identify as a grateful agnostic, I would work into the conversation that I was Jewish and that I did not consider any question anti-Semitic. Lots of interesting conversations resulted.
Even though I am no longer on the road, I still mention I am Jewish to open a door. I use the same strategy regarding my philosophical identity as a libertarian. Has also led to some interesting conversations.
"asking questions and genuinely listening"
So true! As a Christian, I love to hear people's stories and backgrounds! I find people fascinating, every one is so unique and incredibly complex, somehow reflecting God Himself. Being curious and asking genuine questions is a lost art, methinks, as is actively listening and thoughtfully considering what's being said.