In college, I signed up for a class called “Social Psychology.” The professor must have been amazing, for I
went to only one lecture before I had to drop-add to make my schedule work – and
I remember his subject: “Familiarity
Breeds Liking.” Yes, we’ve heard
familiarity breeds contempt, but statistics and common sense and experience
prove that familiarity does breed liking.
You get to know someone, you perceive he’s doing his best, she has
struggles like you do, you listen and get beneath the superficial – and you
begin to like the other person. Or maybe
even love.
Most of what bedevils us these days can be chalked up to a simple lack
of familiarity with others. The other
day, a white guy explained to me why he owns and cherishes the Confederate
flag, and then he ventured an opinion:
“I bet most black people don’t mind this flag at all.” I asked him if he had actually asked any
black people about this, and of course he hadn’t. I have, and after a few dozen such inquiries,
the verdict is unanimous: this flag
means hate, it arouses fear, it wounds.
Interestingly, my friend with the flag is really a fine, ethical
person. He just wasn’t familiar with
enough people.
The ruckus around same-sex marriage is similar. In many (but not all) churches like mine,
this subject is being debated. When
someone says to me, I am opposed to same-sex marriage, the Bible is against it,
I’m sorry but it’s just wrong, I ask, Do you know any same-sex couples who wish
to be (or are) married? Have you asked
them, What is your life like? Why do you
want to marry? What does God mean to you
and your partner? Inevitably the answer
is No.
Then I know liberals who are advocates of same-sex marriage, and they
generally view their foes as narrow-minded bigots. I ask them, Do you know any conservatives on
this? Have you asked them Why do you
feel the way you feel? What does God
mean to you in all this? What do you
fear, and what are you protecting?
Inevitably the answer is No.
Lacking familiarity, we do not like, and therefore we certainly can’t
love.
Guns: we have a standoff out
there between those who loathe guns and can’t fathom why we can’t get some
controls in place or even get rid of weapons entirely. But they generally only talk among
themselves, and do not know or listen to gun owners or members of the NRA. We may think we know others, but usually all
we’ve seen are caricatures: the worst
NRA spokesman is the one we’ve heard, the most naïve gun opponent is the one
we’ve heard quoted. No wonder we never
move toward any rational solutions, but only talk past each other with ever
intensifying rancor.
Race is that complication that just won’t go away. We watch the news, we shudder over Ferguson,
Baltimore, Charleston, and naively assume Charlotte could never become another
byword for racial strife. But in this
city, we do not know one another, we do not trust one another, and therefore we
do not love one another. Familiarity
breeds liking. I challenged my
congregation this past Sunday to make just one friend of a different
color. Our church alone, if we made
these five thousand friendships, could alter the equation on race, unity and
peace in our city, especially as we get closer to the Kerrick-Ferrell
trial.
The police have become targets of derision, or at other times support
for less than the best reasons. But do
we know policemen, by name? Do we know
their personal stories? In Charlotte,
“Cops and Barbers” is a marvelous initiative whereby we just try to get to know
each other. Our new police chief, Kerr
Putney, has a riveting personal story that absolutely would cause you to like
and even love – and trust him.
Is the solution to our problems more force? Or litigation? Or better
policies? Or is it simply realizing my
college professor was right: Familiarity
breeds liking. If we like each other,
and even love, we will figure out how to solve homelessness, inadequate health
care, substandard education, and crime, for I won’t let anyone I love sleep
under a bridge or not get to the doctor or go to school without lunch or
supplies.
I applaud the removal of the Confederate flag from the capitol in my
hometown of Columbia, and some of the other changes in law and policy. Symbols matter. But the heart of all the problems whose
symbols we struggle to address is terribly simple, entirely solvable, and
excruciatingly difficult: we are not
familiar with one another. Only when we
find ways to know the other, only when we get over the childhood rule “Don’t
talk to strangers,” only when we listen, find the unlikely friend, and stop
chatting only with those who share our bias and ideology will we ever have any
constructive change and peace in our society.
Call me naïve, but familiarity really does breed liking, and builds
community and therefore love.
