She said only come to me if you’re in good faith why don’t you consider your intention seek to understand before you lunge out into lecture I paused took a moment to reflect on the meaning honest, law-abiding, with intention and purpose even if producing unfortunate results it wasn’t a shield for us to hide behind in silence no it wasn’t a guarantee of comfort and ease streamlined guiding me to understand and take your position good faith, to me was putting pieces on the table for both of us to see the stories we tell ourselves who we have a right to be the why behind the scene and who we may affect downstream the red lines we won’t cross to reach an end by any means you accuse me of not coming, to meet in good faith but, see I understand you now, more than ever
Recently, I’ve been seeing the phrase “in good faith” used to talk about online dialogue. People want to be “approached in good faith” or categorize questions as “in good faith” or not.
The definition puts a lot of emphasis on intention, and in many cases I think our intentions are to call people out from silence (or “call in” if you prefer) so that we know where they stand. To have people show their hand and take accountability for their positions, whatever they are. Some have called this bullying, which I guess depends on the approach and tone used. I have had to teach myself out of a lecturing mindset, and to want to start with curiosity (and am still working on that…).
The “in good faith” definition also mentions “law-abiding,” which is a real minefield - whose laws? We’re seeing in real-time how conflicted world governments are on their own red lines, laws, and double-standards. So I will just leap over this aspect of defining the phrase. I suppose it shows how we have a tendency to hand-wave appeal to some greater body or being (“Laws”) as reasons to hide or justify what’s actually happening.
Anyway, back to the dialogue. Sometimes, as people’s stances and beliefs start to take shape, the curiosity fades away. They are telling you who they are by showing you their “pieces on the table” with the justifications (“why”), and who their position benefits (“for whom”). And sometimes, we need to set a boundary when those stances become so clear that continuing the dialogue would not be productive. It’s hard to admit this, that we can reach a point of not wanting to continue to engage, but it is healthy. Both as someone choosing to initiate the dialogue or receiving, we need to know when to stop.
Reading
’s post today inspired me to write this poem, and to take a deeper look at my own relationship to calling people into dialogue, my intentions, and ultimately setting a boundary if it is not going to be productive. We can’t expect to persuade everyone of our position, and we will all reach the place we are meant to in our own time. All we can do is show our pieces on the table, our reasons why, and talk about who is important to us. Then we can make the real choices to live out those beliefs with our life force and choices. If other people do that, and we listen, I think that is in good faith. What happens next is up to both of us - it’s our choice, and we can let people show us who they are.Here is the post, which I highly recommend if you’re navigating the challenges of dialogue and conflict with friends, family, or strangers on the internet:
Van, I really liked the poem, especially these lines:
"good faith, to me
was putting pieces
on the table
for both of us to see
the stories
we tell ourselves
who we have a right to be"