Thoughts on The Conversation

By The Conversation, I mean the one Davey and I are going to have. I promised myself I would have this conversation with him before he leaves, and I aim to keep it. I told him I wanted to finally have it, after he's been asking for it for a long time, but I wanted another week. I told him I was doing work - writing, reading, thinking - and wanted a little more time. Ze said to take all the time I need, and reminded me that we don't have to be perfect at it. We. We don't have to be perfect. Not just me. Him too. Us, not being perfect. It's a hell of an idea, nu?

What happened the last time we tried to have this conversation? I got stuck in guilt. Guilt paralyzes me, because I think all the problems of poverty are my fault - or at least it's my fault that I'm acting entitled, and not doing more to stop them. You know what, though? I think it's really fucking high and mighty of me to think that poverty is in my hands, like I could stop it. Lo alecha, etc etc etc.

So what do I *say* when we have this conversation? I need to listen more. Count sentences if I damn have to. Lots of the notes in Betsy Leondar-Wright's Class Matters (a book for middle-class activists) talk about middle class people not listening, or assuming they know everything.

Who do I respond to better: the people who say "I know" or the people who don't, and just listen? Think of Dreama in Prague, or Grandmama in Florida. Even Brooke, from Smith. I tell people how much I love them because they're willing to listen, to learn and absorb and suspend any disbelief they have for even a moment.

I'm not sure what's coming in this conversation, but I need to brainstorm about it over the next couple of days, and focus on communication techniques. I know it's not going to be perfect, but I want him to see I've been working. Even if it's only been a short time. I want him to know I'm going to continue.