Writer's Corner: Talking to Strangers
Connecting with others even on a small level may help open doors that foster kindness. That’s why a few years ago, I set a new goal: to ask people questions whenever and wherever the chance arose.
I launched my idea while traveling to a conference in Northern Michigan with three of my coworkers, who responded with skepticism about me “butting in to people’s busy lives.”
“People don’t want to be interrogated by strangers,” one said.
“Not interrogating,” I corrected, “showing interest in them.”
I met a mixed media artist, a gentleman who needed a liver transplant, a priest, loud children, tourists visiting the area for the first time, people waiting in line to use the bathroom at a gas station, and someone who collected odd things made from copper. Everyone had a story or an opinion to share. At the very least, they seemed to appreciate my acknowledgment of them.
After a day of workshops at our conference, we treated ourselves to massages at a spa, located inside the event center. Waiting in the lounge area for our turn, gowned in fluffy white robes, we sipped lemon water and paged through fancy magazines, enjoying the quiet tranquility. A gentleman joined us, also wearing a fluffy robe; however, his was not tied at the waist, thus revealing boxers decorated with bright spaceship, of all things. I leaned over to start a conversation about Sci-fi, but the spaceship man was summonsed away for his spa activities before I got out a greeting. Then I noticed the expression on one of my coworker’s faces – a mixture of horror and embarrassment.
“You don’t have to talk to EVERYONE!” she hissed, rolling her eyes.
“Why not?” I whispered back.
“It makes you look weird.” replied one,
“It scares people!” said another.
“But look at what interesting things I’ve learned! And if they think I’m weird, so what? It might provide them good dinner conversation!”
They remained skeptical. Not everyone is as nosey as me.
Good things can come to those who ask questions!
Visiting my hometown last fall with my older sisters, we decided to drive by the old cottage our dad built, back in the late 1960’s. We parked and walked down the once dirt road, now paved, reminiscing about how different things looked. A middle-aged couple were in the process of moving some furniture into the cottage, and I suggested we introduce ourselves. My sisters did not want to bother them, but insubordinate little sister that I am, I charged ahead. The owners invited us in for a tour and were pleased to learn some history about the home. We have since texted back and forth and were offered a standing invitation to stop by anytime we are in town.
Last week my husband and I went mushroom hunting. This was our third attempt, so far unsuccessfully. We noticed a gentleman nearby, bag in hand, and obviously having better luck. After striking up a conversation, he generously offered to show us tips for finding mushrooms, pointing them out as we slowly walked over a small area of woods. Our conversation continued, wandering all over the place. There were sincere questions, funny antidotes, and peaceful pauses. By this time, my husband and I had a decent quantity of mushrooms to fry up, and we parted ways with the man. I felt a sense of gladness for humanity, and the opportunity to create a new bridge – even if we don’t travel over that particular one ever again. Community depends on conversation, and what is this world if not communities waiting to be connected by nosey people.
— The Sturgis Writers’ Mill exists to create a community of writers who constructively encourage, support, and challenge each other as they discover their unique voices. Any opinion expressed is solely that of the author.
This article originally appeared on Sturgis Journal: Writer's Corner: Talking to Strangers