Something happened to me over the last few weeks that I wasn’t expecting.
I changed.
I went out to interview 100 strangers because I wanted to understand what people were thinking.
I wanted to understand my community.
I wanted to understand America.
But I didn’t realize that the person I was going to understand better was me.
Because I started doing something I hadn’t really done before.
I deliberately got outside my comfort zone.
I talked to people I normally wouldn’t talk to.
I went places I normally wouldn’t go.
I went to Pride.
I talked to young people.
Old people.
Black people.
White people.
Gay people.
Straight people.
People covered in tattoos.
People who looked conservative.
People who looked liberal.
And then I discovered that half the time, the people didn’t remotely match the little biography I’d already written about them in my head.
Apparently people don’t come with accurate packaging.
Who knew?
And something strange started happening.
The more strangers I talked to…
the less strange everybody seemed.
Think about that.
I actually feel more comfortable now.
More secure.
More connected to my community.
My world didn’t become scarier because I met people who were different from me.
My world became safer because they weren’t strangers anymore.
And that’s gotten me thinking.
Why should I get to have all the fun?
What happens if other people try this?
I’ve talked about creating a National Talk to a Stranger Day.
I still love that idea.
One day when everybody in America puts down the damn phone, looks at another human being and says:
“Hi. What’s your name?”
Radical stuff.
But maybe we don’t start nationally.
Maybe we start right here.
Maybe Greensboro becomes the laboratory.
So here’s my idea:
The 10 Stranger Challenge.
Ten strangers.
Thirty days.
That’s it.
I’m not asking you to interview 100 people.
Trust me.
I’ve done that.
You don’t want the editing problem I’ve created for myself.
I’m asking you to meet 10.
Over the next 30 days, deliberately have a conversation with 10 people you don’t know.
And here’s the important part:
Don’t pick 10 people who look exactly like you.
That’s cheating.
Go outside your normal world.
If you’re 70, talk to somebody who’s 25.
If you’re 25, talk to somebody who’s 70.
Go to a festival you’ve never attended.
Visit another neighborhood.
Sit somewhere different.
Talk to somebody whose clothes make you curious.
Talk to somebody whose life might be completely different from yours.
And ask three questions.
What’s important to you right now?
What’s one thing you wish were better about our community?
And:
What’s something you’re hopeful about?
That’s it.
But there’s one rule.
And this may be the hardest rule in America today:
You’re not allowed to argue with the answer.
That’s right.
For five minutes, you’re not CNN.
You’re not Fox News.
You’re not Facebook.
You’re not the comments section.
You’re just a human being talking to another human being.
If they say something you don’t understand, don’t say:
“You’re wrong.”
Say:
“Tell me more.”
Three words.
Tell me more.
Those might be some of the most powerful words I’ve discovered during this entire project.
Because when somebody says something that doesn’t fit your worldview, you’ve got two choices.
You can close the door.
Or you can get curious.
And curiosity has changed my life.
At 69 years old, I thought I pretty much understood my world.
Turns out I understood my little piece of it.
There was this enormous world sitting right outside my comfort zone that I’d been walking past every day.
And all I had to do was say hello.
So imagine this.
Ten people in Greensboro take the challenge.
That’s 100 conversations.
A hundred people do it?
That’s 1,000 conversations.
A thousand people?
Now we’ve got 10,000 conversations happening across one community between people who might otherwise never have met.
And then let’s get everybody together.
Once a month.
Food.
Music.
Stories.
No political speeches.
No debates.
Nobody trying to convert anybody.
Just people standing up and saying:
“Here’s somebody I met.”
“Here’s what surprised me.”
“Here’s something I learned.”
“Here’s somebody I completely misjudged.”
And we’re going to laugh.
Because I promise you, when you start talking to strangers, funny shit happens.
I’ve got the bloopers to prove it.
But underneath the laughter, we’re doing something serious.
We’re turning strangers into neighbors.
And here’s the really interesting part:
We can find out whether this actually works.
Before people start, ask them:
How comfortable are you talking to strangers?
How connected do you feel to your community?
How safe do you feel around people who are different from you?
Then ask them again after 10 conversations.
Maybe nothing changes.
That’s possible.
But maybe something does.
Maybe the experience I just had isn’t unique to me.
Maybe it’s reproducible.
And if Greensboro can demonstrate that…
Then we take it somewhere else.
Charlotte.
Raleigh.
Atlanta.
Chicago.
Houston.
A hundred communities.
A thousand communities.
And eventually…
National Talk to a Stranger Day.
But the national day isn’t really the goal.
Connection is the goal.
Because I don’t think we’re going to heal division by telling people to stop being divided.
That’s like telling somebody who’s angry:
“Calm down.”
Good luck with that.
Maybe we do it experientially.
One person at a time.
One conversation at a time.
One stranger at a time.
That’s what happened to me.
I went looking for 100 different voices.
And those voices changed the way I see the world.
My world is bigger.
I feel more connected.
More comfortable.
More curious.
And strangely enough…
safer.
Not because the world changed.
Because fewer of the people in it feel like strangers.
So here’s the challenge.
Ten people.
Thirty days.
Three questions.
One rule:
Listen.
And at the end of those 30 days, come back and tell us what happened.
Because maybe changing America doesn’t begin with 340 million people agreeing with each other.
Maybe it begins with something much smaller.
Two people who don’t know each other…
sitting down…
and talking.
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