Don't Rush the Silence

I agreed to be interviewed in class about a romantic relationship.  Yes, in class, as in, I was sitting in a chair in the middle of the class while someone asked me personal questions about my ex, our relationship, and what it felt like to leave him.  My classmates were doing a study on re-entry into the U.S. for students after having a romantic relationship abroad, and they needed to practice an interview.  

At first hesitant, I quickly embraced my exhibitionist side, and began to enjoy the reflection, story-telling, remembering, and re-living that my interviewer graciously facilitated.  After the interview, the class gave feedback, and someone said that at times, it seemed that I was thinking about my answer and could have said more if my interviewer had not asked the next question.  Yes, I said, I’m an introvert, so I tend to process more than I speak, so if you are interviewing introverts, especially:  Don’t rush the silence.

We learned to use silence when interviewing as a way to learn more about our subjects.  My group is studying the link between creativity and travel for artists in the Brattleboro area.  I interviewed a puppet maker who makes monsters and puts on shows in his backyard.  He told me the story of the first scarecrow he ever made.  It was epic.  The sticks, bailing, and twine.  The magical way the scarecrow’s face became sinister after they boy drew it.  Wrestling with the scarecrow.  Forgetting him in the forest.   And, of course, the scarecrow’s revenge.  The moon was full and the fog was thick.

My artist told good stories.  For me, they were a foundation to build a comfort level thick enough to support a meaningful silence.  After which, we began to talk about experiences that were not yet shaped into neat narratives.

We studied multicultural teamwork in our foundations course, where we were designated to teams based on diversity and then required to spend time together, discuss ideas together, give presentations together, and write a paper together.  We learned about different communication styles that we might encounter doing international work, for example, typical speaking patterns during meetings.  In American meetings, one person starts speaking as soon as the previous person stops.  In some African countries, people interrupt each other and speak over each other.  Three conversations happen at the same time, yet somehow the work gets done.  In Japanese meetings, members leave a brief silence between people speaking.  Silence is a natural and expected form of non-verbal communication.

The latter of these reminds me of my comparative religious studies when an analysis of art crystallized cultural value differences.  There’s a famous Chinese painting of a majestic waterfall cutting its way down a mountain, surrounded by trees and forest.  There are twelve tiny men on different levels of the mountain who represent twelve tribes.  We compared that painting to an American self-portrait.  In the Chinese painting, man is small in relationship to the grandeur of nature, and man is in community, in his tribe.  In the American painting, individualism rules, and the mind rules the body. 

Chinese art is also known for its “negative” space, with a significant portion of the art remaining white.  That white space represents a way of looking at the world.  It seems to recognize a fullness and meaningfulness that many of us living in the modern world would rush to fill.  Is it a fullness of possibility…of what may be?  Or is it a fullness of what is?  Perhaps its fullness is timeless, giving it a power that is ethereal.

Unfortunately, modernity rushes us all.  Many people don’t make time for white space in their lives.  Perhaps silence is too frightening in its timeless nature.  It forces us to recognize that, in the grand scheme of things, we are not a self-portrait.  On the contrary, there is so much more to this world than we will ever begin to understand.