How do political differences affect relationships? They build them!
At least, that’s what happened recently when we invited two dozen people to join us and talk about politics, relationships and how their lives have changed as the election season wears on.
Back in September, APM’s Public Insight Network collaborated with This American Life to ask people across the nation how political divisions are affecting their relationships with family, friends, colleagues and neighbors. More than 500 people responded, many of them sharing moving, enlightening stories. We’ll hear a few of those voices in This American Life’s upcoming Red State Blue State episode. In the meantime, we mapped a couple hundred stories and talked to lots of other people along the way. But we also wanted to create a space where people could discuss their experiences and learn from one another.
So we invited two dozen PIN sources to get together and talk.
We contacted people living in and around the Twin Cities who shared compelling stories on our query and some previous Minnesota Public Radio queries on similar topics. We also invited some PIN sources who are politically active, or who are campaigning for or against the two constitutional amendments on Minnesota’s ballot this year.
Our group was evenly divided between people who identified themselves as liberals and conservatives — along with a few independents — and participants ranged in age from 17 to 89.
Age mattered, because one of our forum hosts, Chris Farrell, APM’s in-house economics guru and a Marketplace contributor, has been studying the world through a 25/65 lens, comparing the experiences of Millennials with those of the Baby Boomer generation. He’s interested in seeing if politics play out differently in relationships now than they might have in the past. We also invited political psychologist Henriet Hendricks, a professor at nearby St. Olaf College, to help frame and make sense of the discussion, as well. And Stephanie Curtis, an editor with our local morning call-in show, moderated the discussion.
We started the event with a live rendition of a radio story produced by PIN reporter Samara Freemark, and short intros from the evening’s hosts. Then we turned to one of our guests, who shared with us a story about conflict with a coworker. (We’d asked him ahead of time to help us start the conversation, as we’d read about his conflict through our earlier querying.)
After that, hands kept going up, and the stories flowed.
There were no lulls, no breaks, and no hesitation among the crowd when we asked if we might prolong the discussion a few minutes past the 90-minute mark that we’d planned to end on. There was also no conflict. We saw people whose politics were diametrically opposed to each other nodding in agreement as they shared stories of the difficulties they’d encountered as they navigated the challenges of political conflict elsewhere in their lives.
People spoke candidly about their prejudices and pain, unafraid to make themselves vulnerable in a room full of strangers. And they spoke to one another, not addressing questions or comments to our hosts in the circle.
But what made this forum exceptional was that afterwards, rather than rushing to the front of the room to talk with our radio-star hosts or the college professor, people rushed across the room to talk to each other.
By the end of the night, our group had formed a new community that bridged political, social and generational divides: The guy who’s working 18-hour days to defeat the voter ID amendment here in Minnesota wants to hug the woman who’s spent the past five years trying to get the amendment passed, because she’s broken up about her church not supporting her stance.
People lingered in the room and in the parking lot after the doors closed — talking, sharing, swapping business cards, not wanting to let go of these new relationships they’d just formed.