What’s the Most Crucial Preparation for a Challenging Confrontation?

It could be a discussion with a family member who hasn’t accepted what they call the “lifestyle.” It could be a discussion with anyone we hope will at least listen to what we have to say even though they’re not fully supportive. It could be a conversation with someone we lovingly hope for change.

There are two responsible people in all such conversations. So, what do we need to do to take responsibility for our part in them with the realization that they are responsible for their own reactions, attitudes, openness or closed-mindedness, and, yes, their prejudices?

We’ve written about such encounters and their pitfalls before, but, more than ever, thinking about what we can do in challenging conversations to keep our side gentle, understanding, and self-nurturing needs renewed reflection because it’s easy to lose track of ourselves in these days of renewed and more open and even threatening anti-LGBTQ rhetoric.

We know that most of the prejudice we encounter isn’t based on facts or corrected by agreement on the facts of the matter. But once we’ve chosen to engage with someone, what can we do and say even if they will reject our overtures?

The most challenging element for us is that no matter how calm, cool, and collected we try to look on the outside, we’re dealing not with “those people” in the abstract, as they might see LGBTQ people, but participating in the defense of those we love, maybe ourselves. These conversations are not set in the coolness of abstraction but are existentially personal.

This means that we’re going to feel, we’re not going to be objective and theoretical. It means that we’re likely to make mistakes along the way, get triggered by what is said, become frustrated with what we consider bogus points, and maybe even lose our cool. 

Of course. We’re talking about the people we care about, and that should matter.

So this crucial difficulty is perfectly understandable. It means that we must give up trying to do any of this perfectly or feeling guilty when we don’t meet any standards we’ve set for ourselves.

On the other hand, when we seek to do it perfectly, we put too much pressure on ourselves or anyone and that in itself will actually stifle our own thinking. It will hinder our presence in the conversation. Kindness for ourselves means we need to be the first one forgiving our inevitable mistakes.

In preparation for these conversations, we’ll need, therefore, to explore what triggers us. Because these arguments are personal, we’d be an unusual and uncaring human being if we weren’t triggered.

Because so many have been hurt by religious people and their religious arguments, for example, is that something that when brought up actually prevents us from not reacting out of our hurts around religion? If so, we’ll need to take time to reconcile ourselves to our religious backgrounds even if we’ve rejected them. So many who say they’ve given up religion still seem to react as if it’s still there down deep enough that they just have to keep proving it wrong.

We’ll need to recognize that “religion” is not the real reason people argue against LGBTQ people. It’s the excuse that covers up the real reasons. Understanding this in itself will help us focus on the person in front of us rather than the smokescreen their religious views have become for them.

No matter what religious arguments we might choose to make in response (or none at all), the key is to focus on the human being in front of us and what is being said behind and beneath the religious rhetoric.

So, how can we keep the focus on the human element of the human being right there in front of us with all their problems and even vitriol?

First, we must give up the idea of trying to win an argument. If not, it’s become a contest of egos. Actually, winning is hard to measure anyway even if the person walks away from our conversation unconvinced.

Second, we must maintain the focus on our personal story. We don’t respond with our own excuses for what we believe but speak out of our own humanity even when the other person constantly continues to want to draw us into other arguments.

In other words, we take full responsibility for our position and we speak as one who knows our position and how it affects those we argue for, including ourselves. This is done no matter how the other person rejects our position.

For example: if someone says they have a child who is LGBTQ and are rejecting them, we might answer: “If I couldn’t accept my child as they are it would be very hard on me, it would tear me up inside.”

If someone says that they cannot accept their LGBTQ child because of their religious beliefs, we might respond: “That would be so difficult for me. I am glad that my beliefs don’t put me in such a hard spot because I love my child too much and that would get in the way.”

If someone continues to use religious arguments, we might respond: “I know that there are many people who believe what you do, but I don’t.” Or: “I just don’t have those religious beliefs.” Or: “I know some people interpret the Bible that way, but I don’t.”

Any of these can be repeated over and over. Good teaching always requires lots and lots of repetition.

They keep us fully responsible and human in our position. And doing this will help us not to get caught up in all the arguments they want to use to keep their responses from hitting home personally with them.

What human beings need, then, is another human being standing right there in front of them saying: “This is what I believe is true.” Just as we talk about people experiencing out LGBTQ people as a way to change society, so what people most need are people who will appear confident in their positions and who take full responsibility for those positions with no excuses.