When I was about 8 years old, I penned a message, secured it in a bottle, and sent it flying into the Atlantic Ocean near my small hometown in Maine. I wondered what was out there. I didn’t expect a response. When I got one (from another 8-year-old boy up the coast), it blew my mind.
I wrote a lot of letters then, mostly using the postal service. I enjoyed the story-telling and expression, asking questions, and the dancing dialogue of different perspectives.
Fast forward four decades. My 8-year-old is a prolific writer and reader. She sends a weekly letter to her Grammy, writes summer letters to her friends in between play-dates, reads many hours a day, and has an inexhaustible curiosity and penchant for clear expression. It helps, I’m sure, that her mom is a prolific and accomplished writer. But I think it’s even more than that: we humans are curious, camaraderous, and communicative.
I enjoy that part of my job – mostly. I engage with people about City-related business almost everywhere I go. No matter the discussion or opinions, I tend to have a positive exchange and learn something. We’re a small town and we depend on each other. We all make mistakes, we’re all unique, and we’re all trying.
The “mostly” above, though, is meant to convey an opportunity for improvement. I know I’m meant to be on the pointy end of opinions and requests due to my role. That’s okay, and I signed up for that. But in my years here, I’ve been both inspired and disappointed by reactions when mistakes are made, things don’t go as expected, or when we don’t agree. Some of this may be explained by context and setting and I’ll admit a bias. For instance, I find that the more anonymous and removed (think online forums/blogs/social media), the more people tend to come in hot, misinformed, and ready to fight. But when we take time to engage directly and truly listen to each other, the higher the chances for success in building understanding – and building community.
I get hundreds of emails and letters each week (although none yet have arrived in a bottle). I’ve been inspired by those who have shown the courage to put ideas on the table, the grace to apologize when their frustrations get the better of them, and the awareness to recalibrate their perspectives when provided accurate information. This leads me to two thank yous and a broader request.
I offer my thanks to those who have stepped back to refine your exchanges with me and my team to build in more respect and understanding. I applaud your grace and self-awareness. I’d also like to thank those of you who have shown up at my informal coffee sessions to discuss whatever is on your mind. Each conversation covers a diverse set of topics and includes even more diverse perspectives. We share, disagree, learn, laugh, and come back for more. Our experience together gives me hope for what this community is truly capable of.
My broader request: show up curious, actively listening, openly sharing, and with a community-minded spirit. Not doing so diminishes our possibilities as individuals, stymies our community’s free and open exchange of diverse ideas, and seriously limits our creative capacity to solve problems together. No one benefits when we’re too stubborn or unforgiving to think beyond ourselves into that oceanic expanse of possibility – or too afraid to express what’s bottled up inside, and it bobs around uselessly forever. Instead, let that 8-year-old curious mind and open heart you still have wonder what’s out there – and be blown away by the kind of response you might get if we commit courageously, kindly, and constructively to writing our story together.