Jocelyn Arnold of Mount Airy can talk to anyone. So she was not worried at all about filling an hour with a stranger in early October as part of Philadelphia Contemporary’s civic initiative, 100 People Listening: A Shared Decade.
“But when I was getting out of my car at the Starbucks in Chestnut Hill, I suddenly felt like it was a first date and I got really nervous,” Arnold says. “But my listening partner was so nice. She reminded me of my mother, and it turns out she is from the same small town in Tennessee as my family.”
Both women are Black, but Arnold went to a Quaker school and her listening partner served in the military. One was from Philadelphia and the other from the South. One works for the City, and the other is a pastor. They have things in common, and things that are not. But the conversation flowed. There was a connection between strangers who suddenly weren’t strangers anymore.
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All over town on the first Saturday in October, 50 pairs of complete strangers like Arnold and her new friend met up for an hour of very personal conversations on park benches, at gardens, and coffee shops around the city. They talked about their lives and who they were. They shared why they’d picked that location to meet, what brings joy to their heart, when the last time was that they laughed uncontrollably, and described a time they took a risk. They told about a moment when they’d felt really listened to, because these kinds of interactions—you know, the ones where you feel restored and cared for—are what they want to promote and propagate into the world.
And they plan to meet for one hour every year until 2031 as a part of “100 People Listening.”
“Division is the name of the game right now,” says Blackson. “The purpose of this project is to eat away at that.”
The 100 participants, who range in age from early 20s to late 70s, represent the city’s racial, economic, social, and political diversity. They are embarking on this open-ended journey that has been created and designed by Philadelphia Contemporary’s Rob Blackson, co-director of the museum’s curatorial program and curator of citywide initiatives, and his team.
“Division is the name of the game right now,” says Blackson. “The purpose of this project is to eat away at that.”
With the rise of social media fury where people try to flatten each other by hate-commenting and where creepy Facebook algorithms steer people into echo chambers that promote deepening tribalism, the basic skill of connecting meaningfully with our fellow citizens is in jeopardy. So it feels like a gift when two people can connect and listen with respect, without judgement and acknowledge each other’s humanity and commonalities. Empathetic listening eliminates reductive binary thinking that creates barriers, and places us in the nuance-filled gray middle ground where we actually live. It’s from this more realistic place that we can identify and navigate connections to each other.
Last month’s heart-to-hearts fell into an unusual interpersonal space that has the whiff of a first-date encounter, but none of the stakes of rejection. It feels like the freedom you get when talking to a stranger on a train, but with the comfort of knowing you’ll reconnect with that kind person once a year on the train for the next decade.
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They signed up for the project because they recognize the power of listening, really listening, and have committed to practicing and improving these skills. When done right, listening has the ability to heal, connect, and rejuvenate people in profound ways.
This project, funded by Pew Center for Arts & Heritage and which gives each participant a $100 honorarium a year, grew out of Blackson’s work at Temple Contemporary at Tyler School of Art where an advisory panel he put together would convene once a year to debate important cultural questions. After the unexpected results of the 2016 presidential election, one of the panelists, artist Destiny Palmer, wondered if we were really listening to each other. That question about empathetic listening became an idea for Blackson to explore.
The first phase of the project entailed five listening experts to work with five Philadelphia social service organizations to strengthen and build effective listening skills within. Some of the participants were later recruited from institutions that included Uplift Solutions, The Lewis Katz School of Medicine at Temple University, Families Forward Philadelphia, The Center of Peace, and Head Start Philadelphia. Though these partner organizations were major feeders to find the 100 participants, other people discovered the project by block parties, arts festivals, and word-of-mouth.
“Even though Destiny raised that question in 2017, there’s still a lot of resonance with it today,” says Blackson. “A lot of people feel this is a pretty unprecedented time in our country and culture for alienation, and therefore people are valuing listening and questioning how they do it.”
Holding space
Holding space for someone. It’s an expression I’m hearing a lot when talking with participants and advisors for “100 People Listening.” Marilupe de la Calle, a certified consultant for Hand in Hand Parenting and one of five listening experts who counsels project participants, explains how critical this dynamic is to begin the healing process.
“We all want to be seen and heard,” says De la Calle. “The brain is wired for connection and can pick up on the safety that another person brings to an encounter.” She explains how the body’s limbic system is involved with behaviors we use for survival. It detects when it’s okay to let down our guard and be vulnerable. When a speaker feels safe, she can relax and be fully herself in that protected space.
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De la Calle advises listeners to create that security by not judging or trying to fix things while listening, instead trust that the speaker is smart and can solve their own problems. When we don’t interrupt or ask questions, the speaker feels safe and anchored. When the speaker offloads pent up emotions or what they need to say, they can process emotions, heal, and feel ready to go back out into the world.
‘When you hold space with them, it’s better than advice. When you’re listening to another person with your full attention, you are giving them a gift,” she says “You’re helping them be seen and heard. It’s a universal human need.”
De la Calle and the four other listening experts each have a cohort of 20 participants to support. They checked in with them before and after the first meeting, and then the five met to pool feedback and assess the group’s progress. They will draft guidelines for next year’s conversations to facilitate ongoing meaningful meetings.
“You need more than just ears to listen,” says Jocelyn Arnold. “It’s like with my husband when he’s looking at his phone. I know he can hear me, but he’s not hearing me. Make eye contact. Show that you’re listening.”
Joy Lai, an art teacher at the William Penn Charter School and a project participant, is always working to be a better listener with her students. “I do a lot of talking,” says Lai, who lives in the Fairmount section of the city. “So better listening is a skill I want to cultivate as a teacher and as a human. I want to come out of this as a more empathetic listener so that I listen, not just to respond or to judge, but to actually make space for what the other person says. I want to work on that. And I love novelty and I’ve never seen a project like this.”
The 10 year commitment by the participants is unusual, even if it’s only 60 minutes a year. Blackson says this time commitment into 2031 has provoked a sense of wonderment and curiosity in the 100 listeners. Who and where will they be in a decade? Will everyone still be alive?
“That 10 year structure to the project makes it sit outside of our sight lines and what we can anticipate,” explains Blackson. “We have people participating who are in their mid-70s, so there’s a sense of whistling in the dark. Am I going to see this through? All of that fragility is a part of the potency of the project.”
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Because conversation and connection can be ephemeral—there’s no third-party presence, nor are the conversations being recorded—the project designers have included some tangible aspects to leave behind. Participants signed an oversized “Partner’s Promise” contract painting made by illustrator Lauren Cat West. They also all received a box in the mail before the initial meeting. It included a framed portrait of them by Philadelphia-based photographer Ada Trillo to bring and exchange with their partner, and 10 blank 30-page notebooks that each listener can use to document what they discover about listening and themselves along their journey with thoughts, photos, and other scrapbook-type additions. By project’s end, these notebooks should be able to provide a window into the decade and how these people experienced and changed during it.
“People’s sense of connection is diminishing despite having more ways than ever to connect,” says Blackson. “By having the physicality of signing their name to the contract, exchanging portraits, meeting face to face, or just the fact of knowing where people live, helps to make a real connection. This feels especially important after the last year and a half with Covid.” All of the physical documents will be archived at the Free Library of Philadelphia’s Special Collections Division as a permanent and public record of the decade upon the project’s completion.
What we can learn now
For those of us who may be too impatient to wait 10 years, what are some listening tips we can use now?
Project participant Karen Smith, who is a playwright and has a background in counseling—as well as being the youngest of eight children—knows how to listen. The Mt. Airy participant suggests that to listen well, use all five senses. “It’s not just what you hear, but what you feel. Soak up what you’re hearing before you respond,” she says.
“You need more than just ears to listen,” says Jocelyn Arnold. “It’s like with my husband when he’s looking at his phone. I know he can hear me, but he’s not hearing me. Make eye contact. Show that you’re listening.”
Joy Lai suggests when listening to resist the urge to put yourself into what someone is saying by sharing a comparable story. “I’m guilty of this because I want to connect with them,” she says. “But perhaps they’re telling you their story for another reason. So allow space or a pause and you might be surprised what that person wants to tell you and where they want to go with their story. If you interrupt them, you may not find out.”
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As for interrupting, Marilupe de la Calle, suggests having a mantra to keep in your head while you listen, something that will keep you in the role of listener, like: “You are smart and I hear you.”
De la Calle says that it helps when you’re getting triggered by something someone is saying to remember they were once a small child. You don’t have to take in their message necessarily, but their humanity. “Sometimes that is harder to do than others,” she adds.
And there are clear challenges to listen with compassion during our polarized times. Angry people, says De la Calle, are typically people who haven’t felt heard or seen so they want to overpower others in conversation. When we feel heard, seen and safe, we bring our best behavior and selves. She invokes the words of renowned peace activist and Vietnamese Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, “who says that when you want to solve any conflict you start by saying, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t heard you, but I want to hear you.’
“So we can offer a gift to someone who has never felt that safety,” says De la Calle. “The act of listening can change the world. By doing that you say, ‘yes, you matter.’”
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