Voice
NYC: Nikon D3s
“Our public life withers when only the most extreme voices get attention. Most of all, democracy breaks down when the average person feels their voice doesn't matter; that the system is rigged in favour of the rich or the powerful or some narrow interest.”
(Barack Obama)
We live in a world high on advocacy.
A short tour of social media will reveal what a loud, opinionated place our world has become, and digital spaces allow opinions to be expressed in ways that wouldn’t be tolerated (or even offered) in face to face conversation.
We protest and shout.
And in these moments we truly ‘miss’ each other; we shout back, mute, block, selectively choose our own sympathetic ‘echo chamber’ or simply turn away.
The challenge is to encourage a different kind of conversation. One that demonstrates respect and care for others, where we listen well and inquire into difference rather than shouting it down.
I’ve been trying to find ways to support quieter voices; to encourage and gently amplify them, and connect them into community.
This feels like work we can all choose. We each have some kind of power or influence; some kind of presence and voice, no matter how weak or fragile, that holds the potential to catalyse change.
Developing our authentic voice is a delicate process. It requires the support of others who are willing to hold and make space; to pause long enough to let embryonic thoughts unfold, to witness us in those first faltering steps towards finding new meaning. In turn, we need to find enough courage to avoid the ‘pressure to speak’ or to mindlessly fill a momentary silence. We can dare to be quiet in a world that seems to demand perpetual noise.
In speaking authentically, we reach for something more than a rehearsed ‘point of view’. Instead, we try to express what is tentatively unfolding within our dialogue, naming something, bringing forth an image, conjuring the potential of the collective. In these moments, our unique voice paradoxically speaks for all.
As our social and political world seems to develop ever deeper fractures and almost binary, polar opposites, I’m hoping that enough of us might find our voice and gently, quietly even, show that community can emerge in different ways.
Of course, I realise there is an inherent contradiction in using my voice to advocate for gentle, respectful listening and inquiry.
But it’s not shouting.
Notes:
You might enjoy ‘Humble Inquiry: The Gentle Art of Asking Instead of Telling’ by Edgar H Schein. Rather than interactions where we tell people what we think, which shuts them down, Schein offers Humble Inquiry as “the fine art of drawing someone out, of asking questions to which you do not know the answer, of building a relationship based on curiosity and interest in the other person.”
Peter Block’s ‘Community: The Structure of Belonging’ (now in a new edition) looks at how many of us long for connection yet remain marginalised. It’s a cornerstone book for anyone involved in bringing groups together.
There are several versions of Martin Buber’s ‘I and Thou’ and Walter Kaufmann’s translation, with his helpful prologue, is among those on my Kindle. The book is rightly proclaimed as a ‘classic’ and forms the foundation for our consideration of human relationship.
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