Talking to Strangers

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned I was reading Malcolm Gladwell's Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know About The People We Don't Know. Now that I'm done with it, it really got me thinking once again about what I do for a living, and why I do it. Whether it's the chief executive officer of a beauty company, a self-help guru, a batting title king, or someone else from some other walk of life, I am usually talking to strangers, no matter how familiar some of them may seem to us because they are in the public eye. There is usually so much more to people than the basic things they'll let you know. If you're patient (and gentle) enough they'll share that with you, even if it makes them look like less than a superman or wonder woman. For example, I think of Luis Arraez, who told me late last year that he'd be a physical education teacher now if the Minnesota Twins hadn't found some funds to sign him. He worked through some really hard times to become the MLB superstar he is today. I think his willingness to talk about the times that weren't so good makes his story all the more wonderful. I think of Hope Smith, whose fear of postpartum stretch marks inspired her to create a cream that turned her into a big-time beauty CEO, in a household that already has another big-time CEO. And of course, I am always thinking about Raye Montague, who, as a woman of color, overcame so many obstacles placed in front of her to become the first person to design a Navy warship using a computer. She literally engineered her way out of the Jim Crow South, which is no small thing.

That sweet spot of exploring what is known about a person, and then delving a little further into what isn't known fascinates me, and when someone trusts me with their story – their life – I never take that lightly. I just like to know about people. To wit: One of my kid's friends was worried she had talked too much when we met her in person for the first time this past summer. But the thing was, I was asking this friend a bunch of questions as I usually do. My kid explained that to said friend, adding "that's just what my mom does." There was probably an eye-roll involved, too.

But I digress.

Am I nosy? Or am I curious? I think I am curious about people in a way that doesn't push for too much too soon, or, for example, call your husband for a quote if you don't feel comfortable with that. I will spend the time talking to someone about why they don't feel comfortable with that, both so I can understand them better, and they can understand me too. Usually these conversations don't wind up in print, but they yield a better final result, because two strangers committed to taking the time to make sense of each other. Without that foundation of trust, I can't do what I love to do – and that's write about a person's singular magic, or simply hear their wonderful stories at all.

At the end of the day, I believe there's so much we have to learn from each other if we can just slow down and listen. As I reflect on the past year, I am so grateful to all of the people who let me listen to them talk about their lives and, on some occasions, even write about it. I've learned so much about resilience, faith, and self-care, among other things, and hope the people who have read my stories have gleaned something from them that they can take into their own lives too.

As Gladwell wrote:

There is no perfect mechanism for the CIA to uncover spies in its midst, or for investors to spot schemers and frauds, or for any of the rest of us to peer, clairvoyantly, inside the minds of those we do not know. What is required of us is restraint and humility.

We can't assume. We can't jump to conclusions. We can't rush things. When it comes to talking to strangers, we have to listen patiently, even if we're not the most patient people by nature. Because when we wait to let things unfold, we're rewarded with something we didn't expect, and it's usually better than we could have hoped for – usually a great story. I will have more of those coming for you in 2025, and I can't wait to share them with you once they hit newsstands.

In the meantime, I hope you all have a wonderful holiday. Thank you so much for being here. As the year comes to an end, and this weekly newsletter inches closer to its first birthday, I hope you've opened these missives and found inspiration, learned new things, laughed a little, daydreamed a lot, and felt less alone in the world. I've so enjoyed hearing from you along the way. Your feedback, questions (literally I will answer any question you've got), book recommendations, and stories mean so much to me, so please keep them coming!

-- Paige

Writing prompt: When is the last time you talked to a stranger? What were the circumstances and how did the conversation go? Did you learn anything from the encounter? If so, what was it?

Star Light, Star Bright

When I was finishing research on my master's degree, I spent a lot of time in the Opera Garnier's library, reading through architect Charles Garnier's papers. It was one of the loveliest work commutes ever, up grand marble staircases to this chandelier-laden paradise packed with treasures like original Wagner scores, ancient ballet shoes, costumes and so much more.

Sure I was researching and writing about the life of a man who created one of the grandest focal points in Paris. But I also spent a lot of time ogling every nook and cranny of the building, reading about the people who came there to see and be seen, and researching the performances that took place there in its earliest days. What was it like to sit in that gilded performance hall to see a show? Well, in the interests of research, I bought a ticket to see the ballet "Onegin" just to experience the sound and spectacle. It was simply breathtaking.

There have been a lot of interesting stories to come out of the Opera Garnier since it first opened its doors in 1875. One of the ones that fascinates me most right now is about 24-year-old Guillaume Diop, the first Black etoile (a star, or principal dancer) in the Opera Ballet's history. In a largely white, hierarchical institution like the Paris Opera Ballet, Diop's meteoric rise has not been without its pressures. Other dancers have certainly been jealous of his stardom, but the opera ballet's director, Jose Martinez, shrugged it off.

In a recent story for the NYT, Martinez told a reporter: "Have you seen him dance?"

Outside of his cameo in the Olympics Opening Ceremony this past summer, no. But I'd definitely love to someday.

Quote

Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.

-- bell hooks

Endnotes

What I'm watching: As I mentioned, I started watching season two of Netflix's "Arcane" a few weeks ago. Because I hadn't seen season one, I went back to watch that (kid's orders) so I could understand the parts of season two that I had seen. Now I'm watching the parts of season two that I haven't seen. As I've said before, this show's animation is incredible. I really do love it. But the show itself is intense, and bloody, and angry, and dystopian, which means sensitive ones like yours truly need to take things one episode at a time. Audrey Hepburn in "Charade" is probably a little more my speed (Givenchy! Paris! Cary Grant! Delight!), but I'm hanging in there. Do I like it? I'm not sure whether it's right or normal to like beautifully rendered armageddon. But it's certainly interesting...

What I'm listening to: Luvvie Ajayi Jones' most recent "Professional Troublemaker" podcast, where she talks about auditing her life (including her podcast) to determine what to keep in the coming year and what to leave behind. I appreciate her openness about her struggles because such discussions are usually taboo. I feel like if we can normalize talking about hard times, we can help others who might be going through something similar. There's strength in that, just like there's strength in deciding to break with things that cost us our inner peace.

What I'm reading: Part one of the Cher memoir. I was worried I'd be disappointed (I love, love, LOVE memoir and biography as you can tell, but sometimes it can be a tricky category to get right) but this is about Cher, so how could it not be great?

Where I hope you'll donate this week: The Salvation Army helps more than 27 million people a year with food, shelter and other basic needs. Around the holidays, they also provide toys to children who might otherwise go without them. Please consider a donation online, or at a red kettle near you.