Thalia was light on her feet. As she danced around the island, she invited everyone else in the kitchen to hitch on. She sang…
“Everybody’s doin’ a brand new dance now…
c’mon baby…
do the lo-co-mo-tion.
You know you’ll like it if you just give it a chance now…
c’mon baby…
do the lo-co-mo-tion.”
“Where is that coming from?” asked the muse of many questions. “We haven’t been to a wedding in years!”
“Did y’all know we had grits in the pantry?” Urania asked with a twang.
“Don’t youse know there are a myriad of English dialects spoken across the world…and our minds draw a mountain of conclusions when we hear somebody speak, yah…regardless of what they’re saying?” asked Calliope. “Learned that from lexicographer Kory Stamper—yah.”
“Ahem!” Thalia stopped singing and cleared her throat. “What’s up with the Quaker?”
“Well a reader asked us a question yesterday, remember? He wanted to know more about listening…and voices being heard,” said Urania.
“And don’t forget he asked a question about questions, too!” added Calliope.
“Ohhhh yaaah, ‘market meetings’ from yesterday’s letter…I remember,” Thalia said in her childhood Trivers dialect.
“Well…the questioning reader shared the idea of Quaker Listening Circles with us a while back. Sure, the idea was interesting when we read about it, but it really took shape when we experienced it.” said Calliope. “Tell the people how it works Urania!”
“In a meeting, or gathering, or even…family dinner I suppose, each person gets to share what’s on their mind…we experienced it with a time limit…and there was a prompt question,” said Urania.
“Yes! And it was a simple, open question…What is something you are thinking about?” added Calliope.
“Each person had a turn and could pass if they didn’t want to share,” Urania said.
“And there was no discussion in-between speakers,” said Thalia. “Freeing up minds to listen fully…which is a skill, really, don’t youse think?”
“Yes, and…this letter is getting too long,” said Urania. “Can we answer the question about questions tomorrow?”
“Yes!” said Thalia and Calliope in unison. “There’s a Paczki in that white paper bag with our names on it.”
Today’s title references one of my favorite scenes from the mini-series Band of Brothers.
Well, what good are muses if they only answer one question each day? My self talk for a long time in conversation has been ask, listen, race to my known conclusion or interpretation and then "what question could I ask that the answer would or could change my mind?" There are variations, of course, but the basic idea is to keep me listening and learning. The catalyst for Susan Scott's "Fierce Conversations" was a phrase of David Whyte's "that the conversation is the relationship".
What kind of relationship are you having when no one is listening? What are the consequences of that?
Oh, why aren't you a Quaker? If you're identify as being not one thing does it mean that you are all of everything else?
Where do I start? What are youse guys - youse and the muses - doing with grits? (A two-syllable word in local speak)
I didn’t have my Fat Tuesday hat on, and Paczki was unfamiliar to me so that stimulated a search. Graci.
But help me out here: “Come on, baby, Do the locomotion.” Weddings? Reception dance favorite from back in the day? I was thinking more Polkas and Umpahs! (My best attempt at exhibiting ignorance of regional differences, coupled with overgeneralization) Please don’t tell Thalia of the Trivers twang!
In a serious vein, your treatment of how we interpret, or misinterpret, regional dialects is spot on. That was my impetus for “Polkas and Umpahs” if any excusing is possible. “Oh yaa + Youse = Polka.” The phrase, “Contempt prior to examination,” comes to mind, from William Paley.
In conversation some years ago, a successful engineer commented on his rather unusual diction. In college he had been told to “speak like normal people” if he aspired to success in a business climate with other educated professionals. He struggled and felt less than. Later in his career a respected leader where he worked advised this engineer to “not change a word,” but in fact to accentuate his natural dialect. The leader advised that in doing so, when he spoke the listener would have to pay close attention, causing his words to leave a stronger impression.
His “mouth full of marbles and a southern drawl” did not have a negative impact. He rose to a position that oversaw quality control in a trans-Atlantic organization. “He jes don’t talk right,” some fellow employees would note.