A recent conversation on a plane had me re-thinking @cshirky’s Rant About Women and reminded me of the importance of @kio_pio’s When Strangers Meet discussions…
I took a plane ride the day before yesterday to Miami. Before take off I noticed an empty middle exit row seat a few rows ahead of me. As any traveler knows, this is prize real estate in economy. With the stealth-like moves of a hunting puma, I slid across the aisle, and geared up to pounce. Mustering my sweetest polite Brit-ness, I inquired to the man on the aisle if anyone was sitting there. And – well, he replied rather gruffly to me, pretty much informing me it was free but…. he didn’t want me to sit there. I was mortified, normally people usually love for me to sit next to them. I just stood there, guppy-like for a little while. The air stewardess hustled me out of the aisle, and I had no real choice, nor him, other than for me to plop in right in the contested middle seat next to him. My bottom lip was out, I was dejected, and a bit offended.
His wife was in the other seat next to me. I looked at her, and in the manner of someone who hates to have disappointed, or offended, I spoke to her. Something germane along the lines of “oh I wish I wasn’t going home” in the hope of warming the Siberian winds blowing at me from the other seat. She replied, and we began to exchange a little chat. I apologized for the kerfuffle over the seat. “Don’t worry” she said as we took off, “that’s the worst you’ll be told off about this.” I smiled, feeling about 7 years old and wondering how the middle exit row seat had started to feel strangely like the naughty corner. Then, something started to happen that amazed me. Its the reason I’m writing this post. The lady next to me and I began to talk. We talked quite a lot actually. And I came away from the conversation thinking of Kio Stark’s When Strangers Meet class, and Clay’s recent rant about women.
Turns out that despite a 30 year age difference, we had some things in common: lived in the same place for a while, both in creative places work-wise, and had similarities in our non profit work. We began to talk about my recent work for Human Rights Watch and the topic of maternal mortality and her work on parenting classes in underprivileged areas. She had a very soft voice, and warm lines around her eyes. I listened to her as we moved from mere information exchange to thoughtful and thought-provoking conversation. She told me of the feelings of a mother towards her child, the fears and the weight of being completely responsible for another, and wanting to do the very, very best for this little person. We discussed how to connect people through this shared role of motherhood. Since beginning this HRW internship, working on this issue, of course I’ve felt hopelessly out of depth, having never been a mother, I mean – yes, am great on the social media stuff, but the content of the campaign, I feel woefully incompetent to comment sometimes.
This is where I got to thinking of Clay’s comments about women needing to be more vocal in their talents, in promoting themselves, these thoughts swam in my head mingling with recollections of discussions with Kio about fleeting relationships formed with strangers, and their sometimes incredible significance. In the the space of 45 minutes (and one slight altercation with her now sleeping husband) we had become sharers of intimate, close and thoughtful conversation. We spoke quietly, yet with excitement – there was a connection. She spoke to me of relationships and marriage. She was wise, and smart. We moved to religion, and even politics briefly. And I wondered, do men do this? Or is this kind of connection unique in its quietness, gentleness and subtlety to women? Is this a kind of alternative to the self aggrandizing promotion type-behavior that Clay discussed a few months ago? Is it just as powerful and effective? I don’t necessarily know, but in that conversation I was reminded of the grace of women and how we connect through a myriad of commonalities. She asked me if I had read “Eat Pray Love” as she pulled it out (a book that makes me want to simultaneously love and hate Elizabeth Gilbert for her discussion of the female psyche). I smiled, and pulled out her sequel “Commitment” from my vast purse. They sat on our laps as we continued to discuss, just as Gilbert does, love and relationships, family, children and careers.
As the flight drew to an end, her husband began to thaw a little. Maybe because he heard snippets of our conversation and had hopefully realized, that although I was lacking a little in etiquette sometimes, I was really pretty alright. He needed a pen to fill out his customs form, I proffered mine. With few words, we slowly began to interact. As we fastened our seat belts for landing, he turned to me, and began to speak. “I’m sorry if I was a little gruff earlier. You know, my daughter would have done exactly what you did with that seat. You doing that reminded me of her and when she does stuff like that it sometimes embarrasses me. I think I aimed that embarrassment at you. Our generation aren’t like yours in that way, you are all such go-getters now.”
His honesty threw me for six, and prompted me to reciprocate with an apology to him for not asking the stewardess before switching seats, and in not doing so, had deprived him of his option to object without me being thrown out of the aisle next to him. I found myself saying that sometimes my generation perhaps missed out on the common courtesies in our rush to be go-getters.
As we left the flight, we exchanged names, there were lots of smiles. His wife and I said how glad we were to have met each other. It was one of the most significant conversations I’ve had in a while, the whole thing really touched me on many levels. My old girls school had the motto ‘Valens sed Clemens‘ meaning ’strong yet gentle.’ We used to laugh at it at the time. As a student body, we deemed it slightly reminiscent of a deodorant slogan. Yet, perhaps it was more right on that we realized at the time.
From my minor self aggrandizing jerk behavior (otherwise known as go-getter behavior), in seizing that seat, I learned again of the strength of the connection between women, and the differences between generations. All over the contested middle exit row seat 9E.
