Listening

     Our ability to say what we want, to express our opinions, to reveal our inner-most emotions, to let people know what we are thinking or feeling RIGHT NOW, has never been greater. Most people are not going to get the opportunity of journalists or editors or pundits to let the world know what they have on their minds or in their hearts. But who needs that. We all have the chance to say what we want, when we want to say it. Conversations have never been more free. Electronic media -- such as e-mail, blogs, "Skype," "Facebook," "Twitter," and a long list of devices from cell phones to photo phones to Blackberrys have produced FREE SPEECH (in most cultures and countries). Even repressive regimes cannot stop people from speaking their mind. (I am only stating the "bleeding obvious" here.)

     Post-modern analysts has elevated "discourse" above all other motive forces in human relations. Long ago, it became the catchword of Michel Foucault, and deconstructionists like Jacques Derrida. Now it is the catchword of thousands of academics, and attached to, and dismissed by its opponents,as a culture of secular humanism. The material world, the world of institutions, the world of traditional culture, has given way to a world identified by, and defined by, discourse alone.

     Do not get me wrong. I love this spread of what we now call "discourse." I love being able to retrieve the opinions of loved ones, friends, and acquaintances about all manner of subjects. Two of my good friends are, for want of a better word, "talkers." I am happy with that. I learn much from them -- both in regard to rational thought and modern emotions. I delight in the opportunity for millions of people to express ideas and feelings to a wide audience. "Facebook," which I have criticized in another blog, allows my "friends" to let the rest of us know how they feel, what they are doing, what they feel is important -- now.

     But discourse is not just about making speeches. Discourse is not just about expressing one's own feelings and angst and outrage and opinions. Discourse is, by dictionary definition, also about "conversation," and for "conversation" to occur, there has to be a "listener." No, that is not correct. There has to be at least two persons who are both speakers and listeners.

     In the last twenty or so years of my life, I have acquired the ability (although I have not always exercised it wisely) to listen to others speak at great length, with only an occasional comment or reflection on my part. The people with whom I have done this, would probably deny that I have done this. They would claim that I spoke, interjected, interrupted, and generally dominated the "conversation" more than they did. I have been charged, sometimes rightly, with taking up all of the conversation time. But, lately, I have been actually timing how often I speak, and how often those in my company speak. In most cases, I have not exceeded my quota of time.

     This has been driven home to me in a concrete way by the fact that I have been conducting oral history interviews of first generation members of the administration, faculty, and student body of my university. In some of these interviews, I have almost been an inanimate object. My subjects have narratives to tell, and they have not needed questions to propel them forward. In other interviews, I have commented on one or another subject, in the hopes of eliciting some response from my interviewee. But, in all of my interviews, I have begun to recognize again the importance of just being there, of making eye contact, of showing an interest, of smothering a smile or a laugh, of nodding in agreement or shaking my head in disagreement. I am the listener. Although my family and friends would not believe this, I truly enjoy just listening.

     Much of post-modern discourse literature and theory acknowledges the importance of listening. But, aside from "reader response" theories of literature, there has been only a modest concession given to "listening" as an important part of discourse. By this I mean true listening:  listening not just to the ideas and opinions of others but to the cadence of the speech of others, to the manner in which they express themselves, and to the modes of expression they employ. Unfortunately, listening has become much like manners -- something one can ignore with social impunity. But no one can be a whole person without listening; just as no one can be a whole person without expressing themselves in some way.