I believe one problem may be the key to all the world’s other problems: We to divide the world into Us and Them.
They are less than fully human, so transparently stupid or evil or simply incomprehensible that we need not take Their concerns seriously. And given the way They are, is there anything to be done but to avoid them or fight to make sure that They don’t get their way?
This way of thinking is pervasive, in our politics and in our personal lives. It is often culturally encouraged, and is likely supported by an innate human capacity for tribalism, or favoring one’s in-group. Yet, like the innate human capacity for violent aggression, this is a human trait with high costs. It locks in conflict. It blocks creative problem solving. It shuts off possibilities of collaboration and cooperation. It cuts off our connection to our hearts.
I believe that every conflict-provoking problem we face could be transformed, if only we were able to connect to the humanity in one another.
But can it really change, once we come to see each other as enemies?
I personally experienced a marvellous example of such a change. I had known an NVC practitioner, call her “Liz,” for some time, but we never seemed to hit it off. Finally, one day she showed up in a workshop that I was co-leading, ironically on the subject of transforming our “enemy images.” In the initial go-around, Liz bluntly said that she almost hadn’t come to the workshop because she had an enemy image of me, and thought I probably wouldn’t be a very good teacher. I really admired her honestly, and, with complete sincerity, thanked her for sharing what was going on for her.
The workshop went well. I led people through a process they found useful, and was able to answer some tough questions that Liz had about a challenging relationship of hers. She confessed to being pleasantly surprised by my teaching.
The next time I saw Liz, I went up to her and said, “If you’d be willing to share it with me, it might be valuable to me to understand what impressions led you to have an ‘enemy image’ of me.” Liz and I ended up talking for quite a while. She tried to unwrap her impressions, and I encouraged her with relaxed curiousity. She did not hold out her interpretations as “the truth,” which made it easier for me to hear her. I was in a space of self-acceptance, so I could hear her experiences without getting attached to a story that her interpretations meant there was something horribly wrong with either me or her. I think the fact that I was willing to listen to her about this subject probably contradicted some of the stories she had told herself about me, and allowed her to see me more clearly. For my part, I was grateful for the trust she showed in sharing something difficult, and for the chance to understand her worldview. In the process, something changed for us. We each became more human to the other, and we discovered things to admire about one another.
Since then, Liz and I really enjoy running into each other. Smiles light up both our faces. For me, that smile reflects both my appreciation of Liz, and my delight in the reminder that transforming enmity to friendship really is possible.
This story reflects only one way that transformation can happen. Often, the route to transformation might look quite different. The process might be more unilateral, or take more time. But it can happen. And if I’m right about the key problem our world faces, it’s some of the most important work we can possibly do.