Dear Heather

Dear Heather,

Universally, we’re taught not to talk to strangers, yet here I am, penning a letter to a stranger for more strangers to read. The world is full of subtle ironies. Alanis would be proud.

But as I think about what to write, I’ve realized I need to unpack two of those notions.

Firstly, it's our strangeness. I know you as Heather Hubler, purveyor of challenges, zestful interviewer, and well-lauded member of this little internet community. I can see your headshot, and maybe if I entered a coffee shop to sit down as an honored guest of one of your interviews, I could pick you out of the crowd. But do I know you? Who’s to say? Do you enjoy interviewing others, or is it something that you found you had a knack for and continued it? What does your family think about your writing, assuming you are fortunate enough to have one? Who are your personal heroes and villains, and how do they shape your day to day? Where do you want to be in five years? Ten years? What’s your opinion on Xanthippe being reduced to an adjective?

I think it’s fair to say that you are a stranger whom I am having this admittedly one-sided conversation with. Sorry Mom, I know I never listened well.

Secondly and more importantly, I am just now realizing the privilege of the statement, “Don’t talk to strangers,” a new perspective at the ripe old age of thirty on the advantages life has provided me. I’ve never once had to truly and completely rely on the kindness of strangers, never once had to demonstrate the boldness and bravery desperation requires to entrust a stranger to shelter or feed me. How many of the seven billion people on the Great Blue Marble wake up every morning with the kindness of strangers being all that stands between today and no tomorrow? I can’t say, but I imagine it’s a much more significant percentage than the number taught never to talk to strangers.

And therein lies the rub, doesn’t it? A paradox (and of course, I found a more natural place for an X. Totally using the Xanthippe question as an icebreaker, though. Back to the regularly scheduled programming) like the paradox of movement. If we never talk to strangers, how would we ever talk to anyone? Our parents are strangers to us the day we’re born, our friends until we strike the courage to say hi, and our coworkers until we’re forced to tell two truths and a lie or any assorted ways we’re taught to introduce ourselves. If we never seek out the kindness of strangers, how do we live, how do we grow?

Indeed, it seems that not talking to strangers is an absolutely terrible lesson. Maybe if we said hi to more strangers, we may just realize that we are more the same than we are different. Maybe we’ll realize there’s more to that person than their label of the stranger. Maybe we’ll think about what other labels we rely on day in and day out and give their utility a second opinion.

And in doing so, maybe we may learn about ourselves in ways we never expected. Some may find that scary, and maybe it should be scary. Personally, I find it wonderful.

So, Heather Hubler, here’s a letter to you in which I say “Hi!” in the hope that we might no longer be strangers – that we might understand each other a little bit better today than we did yesterday.

I hope that others seek the same.

Best,

Matt

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A/N:

This was written in response to Heather Hubler's "Write me a letter" Challenge, below. If you've enjoyed this, please leave a like and an insight below. If you really enjoyed this, tips to fuel my coffee addiction are always appreciated. All formatting is designed for desktops.

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