The Bowdoin Orient

Let me lead with a quote from Henry David Thoreau:

“It takes two to speak the truth—one to speak, and another to hear.”

I discovered this quote while writing a paper back in my college days (*sigh*), and it has been one of my favorites ever since. It has never been more relevant than it is right now.

As I’ve kept up with the many reactions to the “tequila” party on social media and online news outlets over the past few weeks, I haven’t been able to get Thoreau’s words out of my head.

At this point, I’ve either established a lot of street cred with you for dropping a Thoreau quote or bored you away to Reddit because you don’t want to read another op-ed on ethnic stereotyping. This one will be a little different, I promise.

I think we can all agree that our country is polarized on a variety of social and political issues (note the irony). If you’re unconvinced, watch the next Republican debate, attend a Hillary Clinton rally or go on Brunswick’s Yik Yak feed. To use Thoreau’s words, we are a long way from “speaking the truth.” One coherent “truth,”  at least.

People are very different and think very differently. This is a beautiful and defining feature of our democracy. But these differences in thought can paralyze us if close-mindedness prevails. When a democracy is at its strongest, its people and its elected representatives can coalesce around some semblance of a coherent, unified “truth.” This requires open-mindedness. I think I can say, uncontroversially, that our country has room to improve here.

Our campus is a microcosm of our society, although Bernie Sanders’ favorability ratings and per capita Vineyard Vines ownership are both way higher than the national averages. This means that the Bowdoin community, like the rest of society, has a role to play in mitigating polarization and getting us to a point where we can start “speaking the truth” together.

This article is not going to attempt to define what we should be saying when we finally start “speaking the truth.” I have a few opinions—some are probably right, others are probably wrong. But I’m hoping that you won’t be able to figure out what my opinions are by reading this article. I want to talk about the process rather than the result—the process of getting to the point where we can begin to “speak the truth” together. If we haven’t gone through the process, we can’t claim to know the real “truth,” let alone “speak” it.

So I’ve decided to unscientifically break down Thoreau’s quote into a few steps—three, to be exact—to help with that process.

Before getting into the steps, I want to note that I think they are useful for folks on both sides of the aisle.

Step 1: Find a “two.”

“It takes two to speak the truth.” This means we can’t do it by ourselves. So first things first, find a “two” to help.

Who is a “two?” It could be someone with a different skin color or someone who comes from a different socioeconomic background or someone who hails from a different country. Or, in the context of recent events, someone who thinks or feels differently about the “tequila” party.

There are plenty of “twos” out there, even on Bowdoin’s campus. Finding a “two” isn’t difficult, but looping them in for Step 2 and Step 3 certainly is. It takes a lot of courage.

Step 2: “Speak.”

As Thoreau says, it takes “one to speak” when “speaking the truth.” But we should let our “twos” do the speaking for now. Step 2 is really just here to get us to Step 3.

Step 3: “Hear.”

This is the most important and most difficult step of the three.

“Hearing” what our “twos” say to us is an essential part of the process. Or better yet, instead of simply “hearing” our “twos,” we can listen to them. Only when we listen to our “twos” can we begin to understand their perspective. We don’t need to agree with our “twos,” but we do need to understand them. If we don’t understand our “twos,” then we won’t be able to speak a coherent “truth” together.

When we’re with our “twos,” we might “hear” new information from them. By definition, our “twos” are different from us in some meaningful way, so they will probably say something we haven’t thought of or felt before. New information can come in the form of facts or feelings. Both are valid kinds of information and deserve our attention.

Our beliefs are founded on our information. Beliefs aren’t permanent because information isn’t permanent. The only way our beliefs become permanent is if we stop listening and stop accepting new information from our “twos.” When the new information we receive challenges our existing beliefs, it becomes especially hard to accept, but that doesn’t make it any less worthy of our consideration.

In my view, what comes next is the hardest part of all.

Our “twos” might say something in conversation that we find to be particularly repulsive. If this happens, it can be a great learning experience, so long as we keep listening. When our “twos” talk to us about their beliefs, the “what” often precedes the “why.” If we begin speaking over our “twos” or start thinking about our next point to make right as we hear the “what,” then that means we aren’t actually listening to the “why.”

Passion and level-headedness are not mutually exclusive, although they often seem to be. Empathy isn’t born out of a shouting match or making someone feel wrong or stupid for the beliefs they hold. If we do this to our “twos,” we will only generate resentment, make our “twos” shut down and inhibit the productive exchange of information. This makes the already-long process of building empathy even longer.

Bowdoin students and alums are the brightest and most compassionate people I know. If we can’t handle Step 3, then there’s no way society can.

Last thing: if you decide to start practicing these steps and begin to find people out there to listen to, don’t stop after your “two.” Go find a three, a four and a five too.

Because I think Thoreau is wrong. It doesn’t take two to speak the truth.

It takes us all.