conflict

Leading by Listening

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Carter Webb: I pride myself on being this great listener, but whenever I meet somebody new, I find I’m doing all the talking.

Sarah Hardwicke: Maybe you’re not a great listener.

Carter Webb: Hmm?

Sarah Hardwicke: Maybe you’re not such a great listener.

Carter Webb: No that’s not it, I’m a great listener.

 

“In the Land of Women” script by Jon Kasdan

 

In “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” Martin Luther King, Jr. famously and compellingly makes the case for nonviolent direct action against injustice to an audience that claims to be sympathetic to the goals of his movement but worried about the discomfort and tension his methods may create. King argues that the purpose of nonviolent direct action is to force attention to an issue that a community seeks to ignore. King further argues that “constructive nonviolent tension” is not something to be feared but is actually “necessary for growth.”1

I have been struck recently in sessions learning from Grace School of Applied Diplomacy Practitioner in Residence Rafael Tyszblat by the emphasis placed on deep listening. This includes paying attention to emotions. Tyszblat is insistent that conflict will necessarily involve emotions and that attempting to suppress or ignore those emotions is not helpful. Listening to those expressions of emotion by others and paying close attention to our own emotions is essential to constructive engagement amid conflict. Those emotions, while they may contribute to tension, if fully engaged rather than suppressed or ignored can teach us a great deal. Tyszblat argues that we are afraid of emotions because of fears they can lead to violence or other great harms, but in fact most often that escalation proceeds from suppressing or ignoring emotions, not from acknowledging and engaging them. Listening is not always easy but may be most important at times when it is most difficult.

A commitment to listening to and hearing others is central to the Vincentian worldview to which we are committed at DePaul. Vincent included meekness or gentleness as one of the primary virtues necessary to those who lived out the Mission.  Vincent’s understanding suggests that honoring the dignity of all leads as much to listening to others as preaching to them, to serving others as much as directing them. We have seen attempts to live out this commitment in recent times through processes of listening and gaining wisdom such as the crafting of the revised Mission statement,2 the Synodal process in the Catholic Church,3 and Designing DePaul.4

Many people feel that they are not truly seen or heard. Our initial response to a reminder about the importance of listening may be “Yes, people should definitely do a better job of listening to me.” People who have been marginalized or ignored in the past may hear calls for them to listen as calls to continue that marginalization. The primary responsibility for fostering a culture of listening must be on those who have power and privilege in any space.

We may see a call directed towards leaders, and think, “Yes, they really need to do better.” That is likely valid, yet everyone in the University community has some kind of privilege, certainly compared to the population of the world. Of course, some enjoy much more than others. The Prophet Muhammad in a famous tradition taught that “Every one of you is a shepherd and is responsible for their flock.”5 We all have spaces where we are in charge, where we are responsible, as a teacher in the classroom or perhaps supervising a student worker. Let us continue to search for ways that we can lead by listening in those spaces, by doing our best to truly hear the experiences, the concerns, and the wisdom of others.

Questions for Reflection:

  • What are essential tools or techniques to being a better listener? What can get in the way of listening to others or make it difficult for us?
  • In our political life, many people express a feeling that their concerns and wishes are not listened to, yet many people also rarely participate in opportunities like public meetings or voting. Sometimes at DePaul there can also be a lot of processes meant to foster listening, but people do not always find participating in them possible or worthwhile. Why do you think that is? What are barriers to meaningful participation? Are there times when lack of participation reflects satisfaction, comfort, or trust in decision makers? Are there creative ways to “listen” to people outside of formal processes in which they may be reluctant to engage?

Reflection by: Abdul-Malik Ryan

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1 https://www.csuchico.edu/iege/_assets/documents/susi-letter-from-birmingham-jail.pdf

2 https://resources.depaul.edu/newsline/sections/campus-and-community/Pages/Mission-Statement-review-process-moves-forward.aspx

3 https://resources.depaul.edu/newsline/sections/campus-and-community/Pages/Synodal-gatherings.aspx

4 https://www.designing.depaul.edu/

5 https://www.abuaminaelias.com/dailyhadithonline/2011/07/03/shepherd-flock/

 

Inspiration for Sincere Dialogue in Difficult Times

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Martin Luther King, Jr., meets with President Lyndon B. Johnson
Lyndon B. Johnson Library, Public Domain

“We live at a time when the world is full of violence, oppression and conflict.” “We live in a time of deep division in our own country.” Perhaps both these statements are true of many times, maybe even all times, but they are certainly true of this one. The communication technologies of our period also can serve to make these realities seem closer to us or harder for many of us to escape, even if we’d like to.

One of the reasons we honor and celebrate certain special individuals is because we hope that in their lives, we can find wisdom and inspiration for our own times. In the span of a few weeks at the beginning of the year, we mark the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr., the celebration of Foundation Day (the commemoration of the start of the Vincentian Mission), and the birthday of Abraham Lincoln. So much could be said about each of these days and the men and the movements they commemorate. Today, let’s consider what they might suggest to us about relationship and dialogue in difficult times.

In reading the highly acclaimed new biography of Dr. King by Jonathan Eig (who happens to live near DePaul’s Lincoln Park campus), I was struck by King’s relationship with President Lyndon B. Johnson. Johnson reached out to King three days after the assassination of President Kennedy seeking his assistance.[1] Johnson was a highly skilled political operator and said he was committed to civil rights but he knew he needed the help of King, who was then at the height of his mainstream popularity and success. They remained in close contact although neither publicized their dialogue, and both were wary of the other. (In fact, both knew that elements of the federal government were spying on King and seeking to destroy him.) King wept after watching Johnson’s powerful address to Congress after the civil rights movement was met with violence in Selma (and after Johnson had met in the White House with Alabama’s segregationist governor George Wallace).[2] The address called Congress and the nation to pass the Voting Rights Act. Despite what they were able to accomplish in this arena, as Johnson continued to escalate the Vietnam War, King would not remain silent, despite the advice of many who considered themselves his allies in the movement.[3]

In his famous “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” King stressed the importance of dialogue and negotiations (along with research to identify injustices and to engage in self-purification). Yet King rejected the idea that direct action was in opposition to dialogue and negotiations. King argued that while destructive violence must always be opposed, the constructive tension created by nonviolent direct action was often necessary to force those in power to engage in dialogue and negotiations with the marginalized. King said that while he initially disliked being the label of extremist, he now embraced the need for “creative extremists” for love, truth, and justice.[4]

While the time and place of Vincent was not one of direct action or of democracy, I would argue that Vincent and the organizations he founded relied not only on service, but also on creative calls through words and actions for those in power to accept their responsibility for those on the margins. The call for the powerful in France to live up to the Christian example and not ignore those in poverty stood in stark contrast to the injustices of French society. When Vincent was transformed from a smart young man who was motivated to make a better life for himself to one utterly committed to serving God and those living in poverty, he did not cut off relationships with the elite and powerful in society. Instead, he continued to cultivate them with the aim of using those relationships to fulfill his mission.

I have also been reading a compelling recent book on Abraham Lincoln by NPR’s Steve Inskeep.[5] While Lincoln, like King, is remembered for his powerful oratory, this book focuses on Lincoln’s relationships and dialogues. Each chapter focuses on a different account of encounters between Lincoln and another person who came from a different background than him and with whom he had a significant disagreement. What stands out in each encounter is Lincoln’s willingness to engage with those with whom he disagreed. The results of the dialogue were rarely about one convincing the other, but Lincoln used the dialogues to understand others better. He was a quintessential politician and believer in democracy, and he could use his understanding of the others’ interests to define priorities and create coalitions to accomplish his most important goals. Although as a politician Lincoln would often choose to remain strategically silent as part of this process, Inskeep’s book takes its title from something Lincoln wrote in a letter to his close friend Joshua Speed. Speed came from a slaveholding family and Lincoln “chided [him] for admitting the “abstract wrong” of slavery but failing to act accordingly.”[6] Still, Lincoln remained in relationship with Speed, signing off the letter with “your friend forever.”[7]

We all have different roles to play in life and in the university. Just as the roles and perspectives of a prophetic preacher leading a movement for social change, a politician in an era of civil war, and a saintly founder of a religious order in an absolute monarchy may differ greatly, we may see our own roles differently based on our positions, personalities, or other commitments. I see in each of these examples a call to remain in dialogue and relationship with others, even those with whom I may have profound differences or disagreements. I have seen a call to sincerity in that dialogue which means a willingness to express difficult truths and to listen to them. Finally, I appreciate the role that constructive, creative tension can play in individual and communal transformation when we are willing to channel that tension into dialogue and negotiation.

I am inspired by the people and spaces in the university that help form students to engage in these types of difficult, sincere ongoing dialogues. Among those with which I am most familiar are the Interfaith Scholars program and the Grace School of Applied Diplomacy, but I know there are many others. What are the ways in which you think DePaul engages these questions best and what are ways in which we might be able to do better?

REFLECTION BY: Abdul-Malik Ryan, Muslim Chaplain and Assistant Director, Office of Religious Diversity, Division of Mission and Ministry.

[1] Jonathan Eig, King: A Life (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2023), 351.

[2] Ibid., 435.

[3] Ibid., 514–30.

[4] See Martin Luther King, Jr., “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” August 1963, https://www.csuchico.edu/iege/_assets/documents/susi-letter-from-birmingham-jail.pdf.

[5] Steve Inskeep, Differ We Must: How Lincoln Succeeded in a Divided America (New York: Penguin Press, 2023).

[6] Ibid., xiv-xv.

[7] Ibid., xv.

Disagreement without Disparagement

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“Never speak disparagingly of those who have contrary opinions.” — Vincent de Paul (CCD, 7:240)

This little piece of counsel from Vincent is certainly tough to apply these days, given our often-polemical public discourse. However, there is certainly some wisdom to be found in his words. Speaking disparagingly of another will rarely lead to any insight or transformation on their part. Rather, such an attack will likely lead to deeper defensiveness and resistance. While a disparaging comment might selfishly bring us a moment of proud satisfaction, it is rarely a means to achieve our ultimate end-goal of a human community that reflects justice and love.

How might we shift our perspective when dealing with others whose contrary opinions or actions stir intense feelings in us? It may be as simple as pausing for a moment of self-reflection before speaking or posting a comment on social media. Even with just a few deep breaths, our anger or bitter emotions can subside somewhat, at least enough to enable us to think more clearly about our objectives. We might even find that the deeper source of our judgment lies within our own psychological projections and anxieties. Or, perhaps we might learn to approach others whose perspectives differ from our own with love. Such a shift can enable us to recognize the ways in which a person is often a reflection of their life experiences, environments, and relationships. Our thoughts and feelings may also change when we realize our own complicity in social, economic, or political systems that have affected the other person – and then we can move our attention and energy towards transforming these systems.

Whatever may be called for in any particular situation, we benefit from Vincent’s wisdom. He seemed to understand that change occurs more often through the power of relationships than through the imagined brilliance of our arguments or the sharpness of our critiques. Which people do you find it most difficult to approach with love and understanding? How might approaching them with a more charitable view, as Vincent might suggest, shift your perspective?

Reflection by:  Mark Laboe, Associate Vice President, Mission and Ministry