It was an uncharacteristically brief phone call. Having been friends for five years and having just completed grade 7 we were typical girls who could see each other at school all day and still find things to talk about on the phone in the evening. We had attended the same school since grade 3 but we were about to be split up to attend different junior high schools. Not only that, but in just a matter of weeks my family was moving to a small town several hours away.
When Julie called she simply said, "Check your mailbox", and hung up. I quickly went to our box and retrieved a large brown envelope containing a curious array of objects. There was a large round piece of cardboard with a slightly smaller one fastened to the inside creating a wheel-like object that could spin. On the outside rim was a series of letters while a series of numbers formed a ring on the smaller circle. An accompanying letter indicated that when some cleverly hidden arrows were lined up, a secret code would be revealed. The rest of the letter consisted of rows of numbers I could now de-code and read.
With our impending separation looming, my friend had gone to great lengths to let me know she wanted to stay in touch. She had put considerable effort into creating a way we could communicate that would be unique to us. So for a while we sent these encrypted letters understood only by the other.
Put a group of people together and listen to how the communication develops. Families, committee members, co-workers or those in a community together develop a way of communicating with one another that is expedient and familiar. A form of short hand develops as group members learn the abbreviations or idioms that make up the language of the group.
An outsider can easily feel excluded, perhaps even unwelcome, if it feels as if the conversation is only for those-in-the-know.
How many of us, albeit inadvertently, have been the cause of discomfort for someone by not recognizing that the person beside us or across the table feels like we're speaking in code. We use terminology or sayings in common with each other but absolutely uncommon to someone who wasn't raised in the same area or familiar with the history of the group. Or perhaps they simply haven't had benefit of being able to talk about the topic with anyone before.
Think about how we discuss things in our community groups, our social circles, our churches, or our clubs. Do we sit back and assume people understand? Do we demonstrate impatience if we have to explain things again and again? Do we raise a critical eyebrow if someone suggests something new and different, or do we welcome newcomers who might be coming from a different perspective, understanding or set of experiences than we do? We have to be able to have conversations with one another that allow for open communication not tied up in code; and honest dialogue not encrypted by an unspoken "membership has its privileges" mentality.
I am grateful that there are individuals in my life with whom I have developed a vocabulary that is special just to us. It provides humor and a sense of belonging in familiar situations. But I must guard against in-side jokes and double-speak when it comes to the groups I am a part of and the organizations and projects to which I contribute my time. By being impatient, or worsedismissive, I can guarantee I am missing out on an individual who would greatly enrich the group, our effort, and without question, my life.
My friend Julie and I found the task of writing in code complicated and rather limiting. It is easier and so much freer when we are clear in our communication and entirely unassuming in our conversations. And it is undeniably inviting to others. So let's break down the code and break open the conversation. That's my outlook.
