Where can a conversation take you?
(Sam & Sara - 296 Naugle Ave, Patagonia, AZ 85624)
She adored her home
Like no other,
But questions still filled her
About the land of her mother.
I ask a lot of questions of my community - family, friendships, work and school. Most of the time, they are not revolutionary.The pathways are generally clear when I am operating in a space of comfort and familiarity. What are the essential components of a just society? We ask in class at Kroc, and have a peaceful discussion about the utopian society that we collectively envision. Just like Sara, I adore my home, but the questions still fill me.
We have the incredible opportunity to ride on the Amtrak across the country with students of diverse backgrounds.The trip was meticulously planned by Pau Nava and Professor Sarah Federman, for whom I am grateful for every time someone asks them a question, and another question, and another one. Our group is shepherded through train cars, city streets, desert washes and challenging conversations by Professor Federman. Experiential education is transformational. Even though I witness outdoor education daily in my role with students at USD, Kolb’s cycle gets me every time. The concrete experience followed by reflection, conceptualization and active experimentation continues to challenge me - even though I know what is coming next! In this adventure across the divide, I have appreciated every single moment as a student. In my professional role teaching students interpersonal and technical skills through Outdoor Adventures at USD, I have found myself in a place that I have always loathed, but was somehow sucked into. I have stopped asking questions and started doling out answers. Recently, I have viewed myself as the “leader” who is “in charge” and “has all of the answers.” Not only is this never true, but it is also a dangerous place to be. When we feel that we need to have the answers, we stop questioning reality.
When we question reality in class, we are in a safe place somewhere high up in a tower made of ivory. However, questioning reality on a train car or a small town in Arizona may lead to an awkward ride, or an uncomfortable visit. So far, I have learned both of these lessons the hard way - through experience.
What’s it like over there
On my dear mother’s side?
So she left for adventure
Across the divide.
When we departed Old Town Station in San Diego for downtown Los Angeles, I was excited to sit down and get to know my classmates. We were fueled by coffee and excitement. We all had something in common and the questions began rattling off. Did you do the reading for today yet? Which city are you most excited to visit? What part of San Diego do you live in? How old are your kids? How has your parenting style changed? What do you worry about for their future? As we continue along the conversation, I am reminded by Mónica Guzmán’s words in her 2022 book, I never thought of it that way: How to have fearlessly curious conversations in dangerously divided times. “The connections we generate in conversation help us build trust with each other, which helps us release deeper stories, revealing more gaps in our collected knowledge. But it also gives us courage, helping us to ask the questions we really want to ask and give the answers we really mean. When there's more trust, there's less fear, and taking risks in bridging conversations becomes easier. The bonds we make in conversation help us talk about harder things.” These types of conversations help us move through our bias towards a collective understanding.
Our train came to a stop in San Juan Capistrano and the empty seat in our quad was filled. I never caught her name, though in retrospect, that might have been a good place to start. Sarah, David and I looked at each other with excitement. Our first “real” person to talk to! Where do we even start?? After passing the San Onofre Nuclear Generating Station a few minutes before, we returned to our conversation about renewable energy. To our surprise, our new seat mate chimed in - Where will the batteries go? It wasn’t just the statement, but the tone of the voice that she shared her question in. A little taken aback, we didn’t know how to react. We didn’t have a good answer, or even a good question to ask in return. What felt like such a simple task when discussed in our classroom at Kroc, felt monumental at this moment. David saved the day and engaged her in conversation about sports. The LA Dodgers were playing at noon, which was the reason for her train ride that day.
Sitting on the floor of the Amtrak station in Los Angeles, we debriefed this concrete experience together as a class before boarding our night train to Tucson. I realized that this academic setting was easy for me to navigate, but talking to strangers about challenging things? It felt newly impossible.
After arriving in Tucson we took a van south towards Patagonia, Arizona. The town has about 900 residents. Despite being surrounded by red, this town votes blue. There are subtle hints around town that allude to a values based divide - there are art stores, butterfly gardens, and coffee shops next to the South 32 mining office, cowhide chairs, and a plaque that commemorates a narrow view of history. My initial reaction to Patagonia was confusion. If we opened up the refrigerators of everyone in town, would we be able to tell if they voted for Trump or Biden? We dropped our bags off at our hotel and went for a quick walk around town. We were immediately greeted by a group of gray haired individuals selling Hawaiian T-shirts as a fundraiser for the local independent radio station, KPUP 100.5FM - Rocking the Border. They were welcoming and excited to chat about the shirts and the town.
Where did you get all of these Hawaiian shirts? Has the fundraiser been successful so far? How long have you been living in Patagonia? What do you like about the town? The questions felt easy, and I felt that we had something in common, but I couldn’t quite tell where their political views leaned. This town was confusing to me. After some established trust in the conversation, I knew that I needed to go a little deeper. I stumbled over my words as I asked, do you feel that your political views are validated here? Their body language response said more than words needed to. The woman I was talking with backed away and the man looked in the other direction. I made a big mistake! We shared a few more words, then we were all desperately looking to get out of this conversation.
Sara came to our world
For a story to tell and
Longing to learn
Of her “real” side as well.
I am learning how to ask better questions, by asking bad questions. I am learning how to improve my conversations, by struggling through hard ones. Guzmán wrote, “When you break it all down, a conversation only needs two things to get it going: willing minds and a little time.” In this rare setting, time is a given. The train moves slowly. I am longing to learn how to creatively and genuinely engage all minds as we move across the country.
Where do you think these conversations will take us?
