How to Stay in the Room When the Conversation Gets Hard

I took a 10-day road trip with my Mom recently. Just the two of us, across open highways, with plenty of time for long talks. But I noticed something: I kept dodging the news.

Not just heavy stuff. Even the small, everyday headlines.

Because almost everything felt like it could accidentally become political.

Wildfires. Gas prices. Eggs.

Pick a topic, any topic, and it’s only a matter of time before someone attaches a bigger story about who’s right and who’s ruining the country.

At a family gathering last month, I found myself cornered by a relative deep in the latest political conspiracy theory. I politely listened.

Another relative swooped in with words that instantly killed any chance of connection:

"Stacy doesn’t believe like we do."

Conversation over.

Us versus them, drawn in permanent marker.

I wasn’t looking for a debate. But someone else decided there was a side, and suddenly I was on the wrong one.

I realized this is why I steer clear of current events in conversation because I have no idea if the person across from me wants to talk, or just unload their beliefs and injustices.

It makes something as simple as being a human in the world feel... exhausting.

And here's the part I've been thinking about...

Most people aren’t debating ideas.

They’re defending their identity.

That’s why a harmless comment about grocery prices spirals into someone explaining loudly why "people like that" are the real problem.

It’s not really about eggs.

Or gas.

Or whatever today’s news cycle is churning out.

It’s about who THEY are.

Who they believe YOU are.

And whether this conversation feels like a threat to their sense of self.

I don’t want to be silent.

But I also want to be safe.

I’m not looking to fight.

I’m looking for a way to stay in the same room.

But these moments are slippery.

One minute you’re talking about grocery prices.

The next, someone’s defending their entire identity.

Nobody wants to get backed into a corner.

So they grab the nearest weapon.

Lob a headline.

Build a wall.

Name an enemy.

And now you're standing there, trying to decide if keeping the peace is worth disappearing yourself.

I’ve been thinking that the way out might actually be up.

What if, instead of following the conversation into the weeds, I got curious about what drives their conclusions?

What I’ve learned is that everybody sees the world through moral eyes. If I ask enough why or how questions, I start to see the morality underneath their assumptions. Even if I completely disagree.

We meet, then, on the position of both of us wanting a moral, ethical future.

And we can agree to disagree.

Or, in the best cases, agree to be aware of and informed by each other’s arguments…and why our preferred pathways are our preferred pathways.

But without seeing those pathways as moral or immoral.

Just different roads, paved with the same intention.

So lately, I’ve considered this:

“I appreciate your point of view. Why do you think that’s the best approach for our country? What do you see that makes you believe this is the best path forward?”

And then—genuinely listen.

By doing this, we both zoom out.

We probably both believe that, fundamentally, our country (and the world) needs to be ethical.

We stop focusing on what each other believes and start understanding why we believe it.

And the why is almost always closer to our actual identities than the what.

That’s where I meet a truer version of them.

And that’s also where I meet a truer version of me.