What I love about this idea that 'any comment is better than no comment at all', is that it gives us an opportunity to engage, stay playful if possible (even if we're being challenged), maybe educate. At the least, we know we've had some kind of impact—the results of that impact are not up to us.
Earlier this week, during a small virtual group meeting Anne P
(founder of
Conversations with a Friendly Vegan) said
something that struck me. She said: 'even the most stupid comment is
better than no comment at all'. It took a moment for me to digest
what she said. Then, like a gentle slap to the head—the ah ha
moment—I realized the implications of what she'd said.
She suggested that when we get a comment in response to something
we've said or done, we've connected with that person. Even if the
comment is unpleasant, ignorant, thoughtless, we've gotten their
attention. I think she is right.
I appreciated the simplicity of the idea.
One of the attendees mentioned a situation as she was checking out
at a grocery store. The cashier was someone random. He commented on
her not having meat in her basket, and that she would get sick if
she didn't eat meat. Our shopper was taken aback. Caught flatfooted.
It is hard to know what to say in the moment, especially if one is
feeling challenged by a stranger for her food selection. She opted
not to say anything, but the experience stayed with her.
As we discussed what happened and possible responses we realized it
was a perfect example of 'even a stupid comment is better than no
comment at all'. We considered some possible responses.
'What makes you say that?' 'Tell me more.'
'Thank you for noticing. Are you interested in knowing why I don't
have meat in my cart?'
And, my favorite: 'Are you concerned for my health? that's kind of
you. Tell me more.'
What I love about this idea that 'any comment is better than no
comment at all', is that it gives us an opportunity to engage, stay
playful if possible (even if we're being challenged), maybe educate.
At the least, we know we've had some kind of impact—the results of
that impact are not up to us. Who knows what the cashier might glean
from the exchange. Instead of getting defensive, or feeling the need
to explain, we engage.
We can stay light, playful, and maybe plant a vegan seed of
compassion.
Anne’s Response:
Suzanne, Thanks for writing this! I’m so glad it resonated and I
wanted to take a minute to respond. I’ve had the pleasure of running
tables with you and the idea that any comment at all is better than
no comment is something I learned in those experiences. I didn’t
want to live my life in a constant state of annoyance and, what I
realized, is that my state is not the other person’s fault or
responsibility. Connected closely with the mindset that all comments
are welcome is my decision to presume positive intent.
For example, I’m putting myself as best I can in the mind of the
participant who talked about her experience with the cashier. I may
notice my knee-jerk response to feel annoyed but then I observe that
response, wonder about it and move towards reframing it. The
annoyance comes from my own assumptions and judgments. I might
think, this cashier has some nerve. He’s ignorant. His comment is
nonsense. He’s judging me. Why does everyone have to give me a hard
time? The list of ways I can create a (likely) false narrative in my
head seems endless. But, now, instead of just reacting from these
knee-jerk thoughts, I can stop, listen to myself weave the narrative
and interrupt that process. I can fully accept that I have zero
mind-reading skills so, if I’m going to assume anything, why not
assume the most positive intent?
In addition to the connecting responses you mentioned, I might say
any of the following:
“Hey! You noticed that? Keen eye! Yes, I’ve been vegan for a long
time and I find it such a nourishing way to live. Thanks for
noticing!”
“You know, you remind me of my grandmother who always expressed
concern that I would die of malnutrition. She was very loving and
concerned for my well-being and, just like us, she was taught that
we humans had to eat animals in order to live. But, don’t worry—I’ve
done lots of research and learned that eating this way is actually
one of the healthiest things I can do, for me AND the animals.”
I’m not trying to change that person’s mind because to me, this
seems like a fool’s errand. I’m trying to be honest and I’m trying
to connect with another person. Perhaps within that connection,
there’s room for him to see things in a different way. At the same
time, there’s room for me to grow in my own empathic maturity by
challenging my own assumptions and engaging what one of my favorite
counselors, Carl Rogers, called unconditional positive regard.