A Tale of Two Cultures

This is a little tale of something I experienced this Christmas. It plays into a concept I have been considering for a long time, which is a subject unto itself. However, the long and short of it is my desire to talk more with those opposite to me and find agreement wherever possible.

A bit of background:

We were always a tight-knit family when I was growing up, even with distance - both geographical and ideological. However there was one side of the family, one person in particular, who had become somewhat estranged over the past 10 years, my Aunt. I hadn't seen her in a long time.

I never got involved with the details, and they aren't important. I was always fond of my Aunt from afar however. I don't see family much, especially with my parents having lived outside the country.

At the age of 31, it had been 12 years since i had really even had a conversation with her. The last time I talked to her I didn't know where to put my vote, I didn't know much about politics at all (I had only lived in the country for 1 year at the time). So my conversation with her was about girlfriends, going out, pubs, a few burgeoning philosophies and it was easy. But 12 years later I have turned into an ardent liberal. I am pro-Corbyn, against Brexit, I am against the exploitation from the financial sector, against how we are used as marks for financial gain, that the government allies with money over people and I hate television and everything it represents.

My aunt however is an ex-banker, homeowner, Tory, Times reader, whose son works at ITV. Who likes Strictly Come Dancing, Theresa May and believes in the survival of the fittest (in a socio-economic sense). When we first encountered each other that day, it was evident for both of us that under the surface we wanted to connect, despite her natural aloofness (which I find myself doing as well) I could see a slight apprehension; the shadow of a defensive posture. I am sure my eyes were not as warm as they could be, given my apprehension. But we had never had a personal gripe and had good associations with each other. So there was also a latent eagerness to connect and smile. As the day unfolded I found her the same woman I remembered, though aged 10 years: pleasant, aloof, but with a lyrical tone in her voice and sparkly eyes which were warming, all rounded off with a slightly knowing and condescending tone at times (but one always done with a smile, and thus in somewhat in jest). And who when asked a question gave you her attention in full, and showed genuine interest.

That evening I stayed at hers, and it was here that I got the inspiration to write this.

Walking into the house was odd. It was a place of my childhood, where I used to watch Nickelodeon and play games with my cousin James. Some Christmas mornings had been spent eagerly tip-toeing around with no agenda but passing time, unable to sit still for the excitement, until the tell-tale stirs of adult feet would blearily go make a cup of tea. Not always fond, but for most my upbringing it was a place I came to whenever we visited the country in the 17 years of my upbringing dotted around Europe. The last time I had sat reading Dr Suess to my cousin Caitlin, a 4 year old, who through the uncanny magic of time, had become 20 the next time I wandered in.

The house had changed, been renovated, updated from stylish lime green and the stark shapes of the 80's and televisions which could survive hurtling through the atmosphere and had become eggplant/eggshell walls, wooden floors and a minimalist layout. But relics remained, the odd painting, the carpet on the stairs, little ornaments which were still there, the liquor cabinet, and of course, my Aunt.

Conversation did start, and was trivial, at times stunted and difficult. Especially when it come to the inevitable opinions of the world, money, politics, media, ethics, perspective, priorities in life and so on. There was no question in each others minds of how different we are. Picture it: I'm sat there in green pj's, nose ring, more hair than sense, beard, burgundy scarf covered in cedar wood oil perpetually about my neck, and she is sat in her townhouse, with a daughter upstairs, talking about a new finance project with a friend of hers, in a tight black dress, sparkly earrings and puts reality TV on with a drink. I am also, admittedly, a little stoned.

We are fully aware our zealous and stubborn natures and how they could so easily get embroiled in a debate and make it awkward, if not entirely unpleasant. I really feel that we felt there was too much at stake to head towards politics, so we avoided it. Our opinions leaked out though. I'm sure we both cringed internally at what the other said, even though we were expending considerable effort in being diplomatic. Eventually my endeavour was to agree with the 'essence' of what she was saying, if I could, and where I could find agreement at its most abstract, I would then focus on that element. And she seemed to be trying to be as gentle and philosophical with her viewpoint as possible and I am sure bit her tongue more than once, as did I. Which I appreciated.

Somewhere we managed to steer the conversation and I decided to search for common ground. I decided to approach with the angle that my views are biased, and that really I did not know and that all our information comes from sources which are biased and the real motives are cloaked. That truly even the top brass of academia have no idea. I Admitted to the failings of my culture, in hypocrisies and tribalism we fall into. And that the failings of each culture often mirror the other as we are dealing with human beings.

An interesting thing occurred. On accepting the failings of my culture, and expressing them, she was willing to accept the failings of her culture. We agreed that actually it's all a load of conjecture and no one has any idea about the future and the complex interplay of diplomacy; global, national and regional economics; political motives beyond media bites; and that the sources are all inherently biased and mostly concerned about making money from causing divides. That both sides of the political spectrum are flawed intrinsically by human nature and can both resort to misinformation and misdirection - whether conscious of it or not. So every time she pointed the finger at one side I admitted to elements in agreement, and then very genuinely put out that the other side do the same thing, or something similar, at least at its most fundamental.

In the end we didn't have to agree to disagree, we agreed that there was no argument because neither of us knew enough, that in fact, even the people running the show have no idea half the time. And in our uncertainty we could agree, and even have a little giggle. We also agreed that fundamentally it is not even that the whole lot of it, as much as we might preach, is still very little do with us and our influence. Just being one person, in one life. This naturally lead us to what inspired me the most.

We got onto life.

Real life; not the identities, not the ideologies, the tribal badges and phrases that show we are this or that. But our problems. Our terrible choices, loss of loved ones and friends to death, the feeling of being deceived by loved ones and difficult relationships. She told me elements of her experience of the dark side of life that I'm not sure she has said to many; I'm more inclined to tell me because I was open with her about my own.

Over the following hours or two we discussed with smiles and eagerness and a mutual easing, we were connecting. Two people, so different in age, culture, up-bringing, political allegiance, work ethic, social ethic, personality, day-to-day experiences, standard of living, focus of energy, placement of what is important, and who ideologically could not be more different. Yet with that strong invisible tether of family we felt compelled to find that common ground. And we found it in the sides of our humanity we are told to keep quiet.

I am so grateful I had that family tether there. We managed, though awkwardly at first, and with some effort, on Christmas Day, to transcend the standard conflict of egos.

Where we agreed the most, laughed the most, really got into the conversation, and shed all diplomacy was in the discussion of our own mistakes, our own pains, suffering, struggles with ourself, our choices, limitations and how they conflicted. After that politics and culture just seemed like silly things that had lay atop who we were: an Aunt and a nephew. Two people, in a room, striving, and then succeeding, to connect in a world that likes to keep people like us apart.

I have an inner polemic, and am aware some people may feel as though I did not represent the 'cause'. That we need to be more confrontational, or stand our ground, not agree, bite our tongue and pacify and move aside on what are important issues, and that there is an urgency to get people like my Aunt to see otherwise. Yet I m so pleased I did not subscribe, to this mentality. I find it short-sighted and too urgent and thus rash, albeit well-meaning. I wanted to talk to my Aunt and reestablish a bond, and we gained trust and respect for each other, despite our differences. And I feel, that as we see each other even a bit more regularly, there will be times to get to the political side, the ethical side, but it will be much easier, and much more natural as we will have established as a backdrop that we respect and care for each others feelings, even if not for each others opinions. Thus it is not the reason we will talk, but the reason we will listen to each other, for better or worse. But I really, rationally, can't see any other way to approach this social divide than this way.