Yesterday, as I was pulling up outside the dance studio where I teach, I caught the tail end of a broadcast of This American Life.  Ira Glass introduced a pair of young people in their early twenties who conducted a sort of social experiment.  Seven days a week, for many hours a day, they stood on the streets of New York City holding a sign that said simply, “Talk to Me.”  They were not selling anything or representing any charity.  They didn’t want money, information, or signatures.  Their mission was simply to connect with people – to be a listening ear for anyone who needed or wanted to talk.  While many people were understandably skeptical (my favorite sound bite was a woman who said tersely “Who are you, and what for?”) – others stopped to talk.  One man shared that he had just been laid off from his job. A young police officer divulged that his girlfriend of two years had broken up with him and, in under a month, was engaged to another man.  Another man talked to them for three hours, late into the night, and ultimately offered to pay the young pair money they would not accept.

I didn’t hear the end of the show because I had to go into the studio and teach, but when I got home, I looked up the episode.  I learned that it originally aired in March of 2003, and was entitled “Say Anything.”  You can listen to it here.  I also found this 2002 New York Times article about Liz Barry and Bill Wetzel, the subjects of the story.  As I sat in my car listening to the radio, I was struck by how much this tale of two young people in New York City resonated with what I’m trying to do in my own life. After researching the story and learning that Bill and Liz conducted this experiment fifteen years ago, I can’t help but believe that talking to strangers is more essential and, dare I say, radical than it has ever been.  Now, I’m not considering holding up my own sign on the streets of Chicago – yet.  But I agree with Ira Glass that, once you start talking to people, you begin to see everyone differently.  You begin to believe that every person you encounter in a day is walking around with a story simmering inside of them just waiting to tumble off their lips if they’re only given the chance to speak and a person to talk to.

Yesterday, I went to the flip cup tournament hosted by the new friend I met while sharing a ride a couple weeks ago.  It was a fundraiser benefiting his sports academy for Chicago youth, and as I talked to my Lyft driver on the way there, I learned that he also owns and operates a youth sports academy.  He played college basketball but was sidelined with a nasty hamstring injury.  Now he coaches while running his organization – providing athletic programming for YMCA’s, park districts, and Chicago public schools where funding has been cut. We talked about the larger systemic issues of the American educational system, and the reality of being a “helper” in a world where you can’t save everyone. The world, as they say, is truly small.

Later, as we waited for our drinks at a bar, my friends and I met a man who is currently splitting his time between Chicago and Albuquerque, New Mexico.  He got sick of the drudgery of his corporate job, quit it, and is planning to move to New Mexico to manage his family’s newly acquired farm.  While the land hasn’t been farmed in more than forty years, they plan to ultimately grow organic produce and work with nearby schools to provide healthy and locally sourced alternatives to existing lunch programs.

I know this has largely become a post about other’s stories, rather than my own – but that is a story in itself.  When you ask questions and listen to the answers, you imperceptibly weave yourself into the fabric of another person’s life, becoming part of their story, if even just for a stitch or two. In a few weeks of purposefully talking to strangers, I’ve begun to recognize the transformative effect of making those connections, big and small.  I’ve been reminded of something we all know but rarely think about – that many people are doing brave, inventive, incredible things with their lives, and that each of us holds a library of stories carefully bound by tight lips or shy smiles.  Sometimes all it takes is an open face and the right question to unlock our truths.

Don’t worry – I have a few interesting and even cringe-inducing stories of my own to share in upcoming posts.  I’m also in the midst of planning to check some doozies off this list.  Today, however, I’m feeling contemplative, so reflective and moony is what we get.  Thanks for reading, and thank you to those of you who have already joined me in my adventures.  Happy Sunday my friends…