Aesops Fables

I’ve discovered something doing these hundred interviews that I thought I already knew.

You can’t judge a book by its cover.

We’ve all heard that since we were five years old.

But apparently nobody told my brain.

Because here’s what happens:

I walk up to somebody, and before they’ve said one fucking word, I’ve already written their biography.

I know who they are.

I know what they believe.

I know how educated they are.

I know who they voted for.

I know what music they listen to.

I apparently know their entire fucking life…

because I saw their pants.

And then something happened.

I interviewed this young woman.

Tattoos.

Lime-green hair.

And my 69-year-old brain immediately started doing what 69-year-old brains apparently do.

“Well…this ought to be interesting.”

Then she opened her mouth.

Holy shit.

She was articulate.

Thoughtful.

Intelligent.

Funny.

She understood the questions.

She had something meaningful to say.

And I’m standing there thinking:

“Well, John, apparently the dumbest person in this interview is you.”

But I didn’t really dwell on it.

Until it happened again.

I’m out interviewing people, and I see another woman.

She’s wearing spandex and a football jersey that’s been pulled up so far I’m not entirely sure the jersey is still participating in the outfit.

There’s not a whole lot left to the imagination.

And again, my brain goes:

“Okay…here we go.”

She starts talking.

Smart.

Articulate.

Thoughtful.

Great answers.

And now I’m thinking:

Wait a fucking minute.

I’m doing exactly what I claim I don’t do.

I’m judging people.

Not after five minutes.

Not after thirty seconds.

Before they even open their mouth.

And here’s what’s fascinating:

I don’t think I’m particularly unusual.

I think we all do it.

Somebody walks toward us and instantly we start putting them into little boxes.

Suit and tie?

Successful.

Tattoos?

Rebellious.

Dreadlocks?

We’ve got a story.

Pickup truck?

We’ve got a story.

Tesla?

Oh, we’ve DEFINITELY got a story.

Football jersey pulled up to here?

Apparently I’ve got an entire fucking screenplay.

And maybe that’s part of what’s happening in this country.

We’ve gotten incredibly good at looking at each other.

We’ve gotten terrible at seeing each other.

Because seeing somebody takes longer.

You’ve got to ask a question.

Then—and here’s the really difficult part—

you have to shut the fuck up and listen.

That’s what these hundred interviews have been teaching me.

I started this project because I wanted to know what people thought about America.

I wanted to know what worried them.

Why people feel powerless.

What would get them involved.

What ordinary people could accomplish together.

I thought I was conducting an experiment on them.

Turns out…

I’m one of the fucking lab rats.

Because every day I’m discovering something about myself.

My assumptions.

My prejudices.

My expectations.

The little stories my brain creates about somebody I’ve never met.

And that’s why “don’t judge a book by its cover” suddenly means something completely different to me.

Because it’s easy to say.

It’s another thing to stand across from somebody you’ve already decided you understand…

and have them completely blow up your assumptions.

And there’s something beautiful about that.

Because if I’m wrong about the woman with lime-green hair…

and I’m wrong about the woman in the football jersey…

who else am I wrong about?

How many people have I walked past in my life because I thought I already knew their story?

How many conversations did I never have?

How many friendships did I miss?

Maybe that’s the real lesson from talking to a hundred strangers.

Maybe we don’t have to agree with each other.

Maybe we don’t have to dress alike.

Vote alike.

Pray alike.

Love alike.

Or look anything alike.

Maybe the first step is much simpler.

Stop writing somebody’s story before they’ve had a chance to tell it.

Because I’ve interviewed almost a hundred people now.

Different ages.

Different backgrounds.

Different appearances.

Different lives.

And I’ve learned one thing with absolute certainty:

People will surprise the hell out of you…

if you give them enough time to open their mouth before you open yours.

And maybe that’s what this whole experiment has really been about.

I went looking for answers about America.

Instead, I discovered something about Americans.

We’re a hell of a lot more interesting than our covers.