In today’s climate, it seems like everyone is thinking and talking about politics. Even in the bar setting, we still have easy access to news and social media on our smartphones, and since the anxieties of the day won’t patiently wait for us at the taproom door, these topics still come up. I’ve had political conversations in chaplaincy settings go very well, and I’ve had them go horribly. Over the years I’ve been doing this, the tone of these conversations usually had more to do with my posture and my willingness to table my own views (which, admittedly, tend to be a little left-leaning) in favor of listening to a different perspective. Two examples may prove helpful, and while I normally avoid revealing a person’s age, race, or gender when talking about interactions, in this case, it’s necessary to know each of these conversations was between two white men:

Back in 2016, I was at a church downtown when a congregant shared with me that he had gone to a Donald Trump presidential rally the night before. I  immediately bristled and responded candidly, “I just can’t get behind that guy.” This was all I said— no questions, no affirmations, just an unsolicited opinion. I hadn’t asked this man for his views on Trump or what he thought of the rally; I was working entirely off of assumptions. Perhaps equally important, I hadn’t stopped to ask myself, “Why is he choosing to share this with me right now? Is he looking for validation? Agreement? Debate? What’s the best way to respond lovingly here without giving the false impression I agree?” It was too late to ask all that though. I had already blurted out my first response. After five heated minutes of back-and-forth, he had labelled me a Hillary supporter (which I wasn’t), and he soon began repeating “LOCK HER UP!” to drown out anything I had to say. Thankfully, we knew each other before that confrontation, and he soon reached out to reconcile once tempers had cooled and egos’ bruises had healed a bit.

By contrast, later that same week, I was at a taproom with some friends when I started talking to a middle-aged man at the end of the bar. As he began sharing some of his experiences, the conversation took a sudden and unexpected right turn. “You’re not a snowflake, are you?” he asked me cautiously.

If you’re reading this in another cultural context, “snowflake” is an American insult for entitled or insecure people who overreact when anyone disagrees with them. The term is usually applied to young, liberal Americans by older conservatives, although people of all ages and political persuasions may exhibit snowflake-like behavior. (Ex: “I can’t believe my uncle blocked me on facebook just because I replied to his post about Confederate statues. What a snowflake.”) The expression has its origins in something often said to American children to make them feel good about themselves: “You’re specials snowflake; no two of you are alike.” While perhaps reassuring and encouraging to preschoolers, the term is always sarcastic when applied to adults.

There was something unusual about his question though: I can’t think of any other time where someone has asked if I was a snowflake. It’s usually an insult thrown out after the conversation has already gotten out of control. Rather than getting defensive, I decided to learn more about his perspective. I kept a level tone and replied, “You know, I’m not really sure whether I am. I hear that term thrown around a lot these days. How do you define it?” From there, we had a good conversation, but it had to start with a willingness to listen to each other.

If you’re going to talk politics in a chaplaincy setting, especially a bar, this must be your starting point: I am not here to prove I’m right. In fact, whether my beliefs are right doesn’t matter right now. I’m here to help someone else reflect. Don’t make assumptions about the beliefs or experiences that may shape a person’s perspective or why a certain issue may be important; ask about it instead. It’s even okay to disagree, so long as you’re doing so in a way that affirms the other person and invites ongoing conversation. A phrase like, “I’ve had a different experience” is a lot more charitable than “You’re wrong.” When in doubt, just keep asking questions and don’t assume you understand. If you’d like a great example of these tactics, I recommend the podcast “With Friends Like These” where host Ana Marie Cox (who is herself somewhat liberal) invites conversations with people of different viewpoints.

In general, it’s best to avoid political conversation, but when someone insists on bringing it up (especially in situations where the most recent news is causing anxiety), do your best to set yourself aside and ask questions. There may be situations where you must simply end the conversation, but hopefully it doesn’t escalate to that point.

Remember, in this work, you don’t have to be correct; you just have to be present.