Volume

I'm grateful to feel close to friends whose experiences diverge greatly from mine.  Years ago Kevin visited an independent bookstore in rural New England, with a friend of ours whose family largely hailed from the Bronx.  Our friend found few children's books featuring children of color.  She asked the proprietor why a wider selection wasn't available.  She wasn't angry or confrontational, but her voice grew louder during the exchange.  The proprietor became wide-eyed and defensive.  Later, she said to Kevin, "I forget that you can't talk to folks around here the way you do in my family or community.  In my community, people would respond as assertively.  Here, they shut down."

The exchange was so illuminating to me.  I shared this with another mutual friend.  This second friend grew up in a predominantly white environment, as did I, but she grew up in a poorer community.  However, we both grew up with volume signifying similar information.  Volume-- yelling or shouting-- was pretty violent.  It was reserved for really intense moments of conflict.  It generally shut down communication.

Since those formative years, both my friend & I have found ourselves in communities and relationships where  expression varies greatly.  We have friends that we hold near & dear who communicate loudly, quickly, almost explosively.  Yelling doesn't signify anything more than passion, or strong feelings.

Similarly, in these instances conflict is generally more public.  I remember my parents fighting when I grew up, but they would quickly shut a door and resolve their dispute in private.  I never saw resolution.  That was perhaps a little more upsetting than witnessing a fight.  My parents had money to afford privacy, rooms with doors to shut, and had come from a culture where conflict was frowned upon.

Many of my friends who grew up in poor or working class communities couldn't afford the same level of privacy.  In some instances, class played a lesser role, & culturally there was a tradition of being more open about conflict and resolution.  Conflict was viewed as an inevitability of relationships, nothing to judge nor sequester.  Therefore, when it emerged, it was brought quickly to the surface and dealt with.

In some ways, I feel like this approach makes conflict less scary.  Both Kevin & I come from cultural norms of stifling a fair amount of interpersonal conflict.  We're both working to be a little more transparent.  A lot of what drives me towards greater levels of openness is the acknowledgment that I need help!  I don't know how to resolve plenty of issues.  I know I have problems and that they emerge.  Even though it can be uncomfortable, I think the more my issues and disagreements are visible, the more I'll receive advice and aid when it's needed.  If I feed the tendency towards closeting conflict, there's a strong likelihood that I won't be able to resolve it.

I'm not necessarily an advocate for yelling.  A friend of mine described a workplace encounter where she was yelled at.  She matched volume in her response.  As the behavior was mirrored, the yelling diminished.  However, I think that understanding better why yelling is acceptable in some communities can be instructive. Sometimes, yelling is acceptable in tandem with abusive behavior.  I wouldn't want to be naive about the possible implications.  Similarly, environments with level, calm voices are not always entirely healthy.

As I travel, I'm listening to the patterns of speech.  In Vietnam, people spoke very quickly to one another.  Especially in the north, it almost seemed like folks yelled in normal conversation.  Often, this was paired with a smile, helping me understand that the volume and staccato patterns didn't correspond to aggression.  In Guatemala, I spent time with Kakchiquel Mayans, speaking Spanish with them though it was my second language & their's, after Kakchiquel.  Kakchiquel invited in a soft lulling rhythm.  Their voices ebbed along an almost Swedish musicality.  I saw physical stances-- hands on hips, tightened brows-- signifying tension even when whispering this sing-song Spanish.  The softness of their speech often didn't change when the content swayed from peaceful to contentious.

In yoga there's this idea that nothing is inherently good nor bad.  Yelling is not inherently good nor bad.  Our responses assign value or judgment.  This is helpful for me to remember as I work to clarify my own communication, stop clinging to or hiding my issues, and listen.