Why are conversations in which people say the harshest things the ones most worth sticking with?

Hello all 🌷

In another post, we wrote that one of the goals of the “Let's Talk Democracy” booths is to create a safe space where people are free to express any opinion.

But one of the questions we’re often asked is: What if the person standing in front of me says something that’s difficult for me to hear? Something I strongly disagree with? Something that feels offensive or wrong to me? Something that I believe should be “forbidden” to say or even think?

In this post, we’ll share stories that show why conversations that begin with statements like these are precisely the ones we should try hardest to find a way to continue; because when they’re handled well, they can end up somewhere completely different from where they started.

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People say difficult and extreme things for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes they say them out of fear, frustration, or anger. Sometimes it’s what everyone around them is saying, so it’s the first thing that comes out of their mouths. And sometimes they simply say what they’re feeling in the heat of the conversation.

Here, for example, is a story from a volunteer at the booth in Afula:

🌷 “The conversation began with him saying that all Likud supporters should be killed. But later, after I told him that this kind of hateful rhetoric serves today’s politicians who are looking to deepen division, he backed away from what he'd said. He said, ‘Of course not, it’s just talk!’ He also said that in practice, he listens to Likud supporters too, and that he believes we should create some kind of space that brings people together and fosters unity. Over the course of the conversation, it became clear that, overall, he was just a person, and he was hurting.”

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One reason it’s important to let people express their opinions—and then to stay and talk with them about those opinions—is that continuing the conversation gives people an opportunity to reflect on what they’ve said. Often, when we listen to people, they also listen to themselves, and this leads them to reconsider what they said.

A volunteer from Shilat, for example, shared:

🌷 “Today I heard something that amazed me—two women who said they had never voted Likud, who think Netanyahu is a bad prime minister and is harming the country, but who said that after October 7 they're support him just to spite the people who put up the signs saying, ‘You’re the head, you’re to blame,’ and, more generally, all the Kaplan protesters who are against Judaism.

After they said this, I had a very long conversation with them that jumped between many different topics. At one point, one of them talked about what happened on Yom Kippur ’23 in Tel Aviv and was angry about an older woman who exposed her breasts in front of the worshippers. We agreed that this was inappropriate, and then I explained that the woman had done it deliberately 'to spite' the worshippers. The woman I was speaking with agreed and said that this shouldn’t happen. So I reminded her of the beginning of our conversation, when she said she would vote for Netanyahu in order to ‘spite’ the Kaplan protesters—and I could practically hear the penny drop.”

A volunteer at our booth in Shilat

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A good conversation can encourage people to rethink not only what they say, but also how they behave.

Here, for example, is a story from a volunteer at our booth in Ramla:

🌷 “It was my first time in Ramla. I was nervous. And sure enough, as soon as I arrived, a man walked past and shouted at me. I tried to calm him down, but he kept going. Then another woman wearing a headscarf walked by and shouted. I approached her:

—‘My name is Gilad. What’s your name? I’m a volunteer, and I’m taking time to spread love among my people.’

She softened. She told me about her brother who was killed while serving in the army, and that her ultra-Orthodox nephews serve in the military. She said that Israeli Arabs are okay, and showed me a gift she had received from an Arab neighbor. But Palestinians are killing us. The politicians are corrupt. Our internal conflict is weakening us in the face of our enemies, and we need to stand together.

I told her that shouting at each other won't bring us together. That she had hurt my feelings. That we can achieve much more by being kind. She apologized. She seemed ashamed. For me, it was a constructive experience.”

In this case, we know that the change in this woman was more than a momentary reaction, because a week later the volunteer met her again:

🌷 “Last week, there was a woman who shouted at me, and then calmed down. She came back this week and apologized again. Said that it was difficult for her to hear that she had hurt me. She’s a good person and doesn’t want to hurt anyone. It seems that our conversation last week was significant for her.”

Volunteers in Ramla with some regular visitors

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Even conversations that begin with the harshest and most extreme statements can, if we stay engaged and seriously discuss the implications of what is being said, end up somewhere completely different.

For example, a volunteer in Bat Yam shared:

🌷 “He said that I wouldn’t like hearing what he had to say, but that we need to forget about the hostages, and that Netanyahu doesn’t have the guts to do it. And that every Muhammad should be killed while he’s still a child.

I didn’t argue with him. I just asked:

—‘Okay, how would you actually carry out such a plan?’

We then had a conversation about what you do with the bodies of 2.5 million people—bury them? Transport them in trucks? Burn them in crematoria? Very quickly, the similarity between his idea and Nazi Germany became clear, and he backed away from it.

We continued trying to find a solution, and he suggested that the Egyptians enter Gaza in our place. He also said that the war should end immediately. When I asked:

—‘And what about eliminating Hamas?’

He said:

—‘You can’t eliminate Hamas. Even the Nazis couldn’t eliminate the Jews. We need to leave Gaza now and let an international force enter and govern it.’

I told him that this was exactly what I thought, and we parted with a handshake.”

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The hard truth is that hostile and violent behavior and rhetoric have become a normalized part of Israeli discourse. Even people who don’t volunteer with “Let's Talk Democracy” can see this—in social media, in the media, and on the street. But, as the examples we’ve shared here show, it’s worth talking even with people who say difficult things. More than that—these are precisely the people you have to talk to, because the conversations themselves, when handled well, can bring about change. 🌼