How an exchange that started with criticism ended in a real conversation over coffee
Mike Harris is a longtime subscriber to the Kansas City Star. He has taken the paper for more than 40 years. Mike, 79, of Leawood, doesn’t always agree with me and my colleagues on the opinion team on issues important to the region.
He first reached out to me last year after I wrote a column about my experience as a minority student in a predominantly white school district in the 1990s. After the district’s first diversity director announced she was stepping down less than a year on the job, I concluded that open and honest dialogue on the tough subjects of diversity and race was necessary. I wondered how some of my fellow alums and I could contribute to that conversation.
Mike agreed. But he challenged me to put action behind my words. It was constructive criticism, and worth considering even though I had never met the gentleman. When was the last time you had a conversation with someone you didn’t agree with?
“Now more than ever a new consensus must begin with dialogue and conversation that opens up a consciousness for positive social action,” Mike wrote in an email dated May, 10 2021. “You and other writers for The Star asked for the conversation. It takes two to have one. Please respond and then maybe we could start a meaningful conversation.”
Within a few weeks, Mike and I met for coffee for the first time. It wasn’t the last. We often speak on current events. He continues to push me to do more to create meaningful change in the community. I do the best I can, I often say. On that, Mike, a tough critic, probably wouldn’t agree. Many story ideas have come from our conversations on race, politics, city government and other topics.
Mike and I are due for coffee soon this year. We are in no rush with the omicron variant of the coronavirus spreading rapidly, but I’m always ready because I respect his willingness to provide both advice and motivation.
Partisan issues and personal differences are no excuse for a lack of civil discourse in a climate that doesn’t foster such engagement. We have more in common than we are different, Mike told me on Monday.
Lenexa’s David Ricketts, a 58-year-old father of two, said practically the same thing.
David was not happy when I wrote a column last year on how the local Boy Scouts’ Tribe of Mic-O-Say ritual was a misappropriation of Native American culture. David’s two sons were Boy Scouts, he wrote earlier that same May. Both went through the leadership program.
“If I understand your writings today (May 5), you are somehow taken aback by people dressing up and representing people of other cultures,” David’s email read. “As a proud father of two fine men who are Eagle Scouts and who went through the Tribe of Mic-O-Say, you could not be more wrong.”
No amount of outrage could convince David that I was right when I wrote white children running around mimicking Native American customs is racist and disrespectful to an entire culture.
David invited me to attend a Mic-O-Say ceremony. I immediately said no. Nothing could convince me. The ritual must end, I wrote to him. I later agreed to accept the offer, which I haven’t followed up on yet.
David and I met for lunch last year and spent 30 minutes talking about everything but the column. We found that we had common interests in youth sports and fatherhood. The other 30 minutes of the hour-long meeting was spent discussing the importance of physical activity — we both enjoy bicycling — and we swapped stories about being youth sports officials.
I spoke with Dave on Monday. He had no issue with me sharing our conversations. He didn’t need to remind me that I still owe him a visit to a Mic-O-Say ceremony.
This story was originally published January 11, 2022 at 5:00 AM.
