"Around the Table" by Katie Shaw Thompson

Around the Table

by Katie Shaw Thompson

Growing up I would look forward to this time of year when my extended family would gather around my grandmother’s extended kitchen table. Those days were full of turkey, sweet corn, Stove Top stuffing, cranberry sauce, and my grandmother’s custard pies. After dinner there would be board games of one variety or another. I remember even at a young age enjoying my uncle’s fierce competitiveness and sharp wit.

There must have been tension among the adults at least at times. Looking back now I know there were years when marriages were breaking down and some owed others money. But if it was palpable to me as a child, that sourness is blotted out by the sweet taste of my grandmother’s cooking and the savoriness of card game victories.

Today, gathered around tables with friends, family, or neighbors, I am aware of the brewing conflicts that threaten to cut our time together short or bar us from ever getting together again. We all have our own recipes for surviving, avoiding, or plowing steadfastly into these conflicts. Whether you’ve become a dynamo distractor, a washroom wailer, a burn-all-the-bridges bellower, or another alliterative collection of adjectives, somehow you too have found a way to survive enough holidays to be reading this page.

I know of friends who have cancelled their traditional family gatherings altogether, rather than gather with folks with whom they know they disagree, and I think choosing to maintain our space can be an important survival mechanism when we need it. Particularly when patterns of abuse are at play or when we feel like we are reacting from a place of trauma or anger, I think it is healthy to forego the yearly clash with relatives to restore our own health and sanity. It can also send a strong message to our relatives about what we will and will not tolerate.

I know of others who hold their gatherings as usual but add a strong injunction against talking religion or politics, and I think agreeing to maintain silence around our differences in order to be with each other can help us see each other as human beings again. We may not agree on whether or not NFL players should kneel during the national anthem but we might agree that few things say Thanksgiving to us as well as sliced cranberry sauce from a can (or not). After all, I believe it’s when we lose sight of each other’s humanity that we do each other real harm.

There is however, another, admittedly more difficult, option. We can gather with people with whom we disagree and agree to have deep meaningful conversation. With the right ingredients, I do believe this can happen even without the help of a trained mediator, a talking stick, and three U.N. peace-keeping ambassadors.

I think a lot of us already know how to do this. We know that genuine listening to others, speaking for ourselves, and seeing everyone as valuable and wise in their own way leads us to health — and Thanksgiving gatherings that make it to the dessert stage. What’s hardest I think is to take responsibility for our own feelings. We cannot be in charge of another person’s feelings no matter how hard we try and no matter how responsible we feel. There are an overwhelming number of myths about failed love potions that express our human yearning for that particular power. In the same way, we are in charge of our own emotions.

We can have influence with each other. The questions we ask each other, the stories we share, and even the shouting matches we may choose to engage in can have influence. However, each of us reserves the possibility of managing our own emotions separate from the words or actions of anyone else.

Dealing with our own emotions though can be even more intimidating than the thought of sitting across from our least favorite aunt for an hour’s long holiday meal. Our minds and bodies even have ways of keeping emotions we are not ready to process buried and inaccessible, at least for awhile, particularly when it comes to trauma responses. Yet, I believe it’s dealing with those emotions that can help us connect more fully with each other.

I was walking through a grocery store once when I heard some children squabbling with each other in a pretty average way. One announced to his mother (along with everyone in the aisle), “Mom, he called me a name!”

The mother responded in a way that caught me short. She responded in a calm tone, as though she needed to say it twelve times daily, “Just because he says it doesn’t make it true.”

I don’t know about you but I can be pretty terrible at taking things personally. There are days when I’m pretty sure that SUV that passes too close to me on my bike is trying hard to murder me (Death Race 2000-style), rather than someone just like me, making mistakes in a rush to get to work.

What if it’s not all about me? I should have that question posted on every doorway I regularly pass through.

Just because Grandpa says it, doesn’t make it true. Just because my sister judges me, doesn’t make me worthless. Just because my cousin voted for the other candidate doesn’t make either of us an inhuman monster.

We all have our own reasons for doing everything. We all have our own wisdom to share. We are all wrong more often than we would like to admit.

I find a lot of truth in that old adage that the thing we can’t stand the most about someone else is the very thing we struggle with ourselves. But if it’s not all about me and it’s not all about them, then what is it really all about?

For me, it’s about caring for the well-being of all of us, as individuals and communities. For me, that means courageously facing my own emotions and taking responsibility for them. For me, that sometimes means asking for help from trusted people to sit with me in those emotions. For me, that means listening as well as I am able. For me, it means not actively seeking to hurt others and, at the same time, refusing to take responsibility for the emotions of others. For me, it means taking breaks from the conversation when I need to. For me, it means speaking what I have to say when I’m ready to do so.

Gathering with our family, friends, and neighbors around holiday tables is as local as it gets. There are times when it is really not safe to be with those who are so hurt inside they seek to hurt others.

Yet, so many of us do have the opportunity to share the time and space that will help us learn how to be together in ways that are good for all of us. If we want to make our community a healthier, happier place to live, we could do worse than to try gathering together across our differences to remember what it is we share — even if it is simply the need for oxygen.

We don’t need to be perfect or fit anyone’s particular image of the ideal relationships. Indeed, I have found so often trying to be perfect causes more harm than help. No, I think what we could really use is courageously generous listeners who care enough to try to be together and then try, try again. I give thanks for all the courageous hearts who try, try again to gather around the table with me. —KST