Tetzaveh and Interrupting
Is it kosher to interrupt someone?
According to an article by Kira Bindrim, “There are times when it’s okay
to interrupt someone. If they have food
on their face? If their dress is tucked
into their tights. If a tsunami is coming up behind them. And there are
times when it really isn’t okay, like during a business meeting, or when
conversing with a colleague. I know,”
she concludes, “because I’ve learned about those ‘not okay’ cases the hard
way.”<1>
I can relate. Growing up in Brooklyn, NY,
interrupting was the only way to get a word in edgewise. I thought that this was natural and
normal. Boy was I in for a rude surprise
when I moved to Arizona. People thought
that I was rude! Imagine that! Somehow they didn’t understand my ebullient
and enthusiastic conversational style as my way of demonstrating engagement in
the conversation. They just thought I
wasn’t listening and wasn’t respectful, and they certainly didn’t appreciate
the interruption. People thought I was
rude!
So which is it? Is interrupting a sign of a
conversational boor, or and excited participant? Turns out that the answer is not so
simple. Recent headlines suggest that
what linguist Deborah Tannen calls, “high involvement cooperative overlapping”
is actually a characteristic of Jewish conversational style. It actually is, she says, “a way of showing
interest and appreciation.”<2>
This pattern of conversation is found, “among many Jews from New York and its
environs, especially those of Eastern European origin, (and it) differs in
significant ways from that of most non-Jewish Americans from the South, Midwest
and West.”<3>
Other patterns Tannen detects are, “a fast rate of speech, the avoidance of
inter-turn pauses and faster turn taking among speakers, <4>
“pitch shifts, changes in loudness, exaggerated voice quality, and accent,”<5>
as well as a preference for personal topics, unhesitating introduction of new
topics and persistence in reintroducing a topic if others don’t immediately
pick up on it.<6>
To those who are not accustomed to, dare I say “our” way of speaking, we come
across as rude and disinterested and dominating the conversation. Among ourselves, we find simultaneous talking
unremarkable and a sign of rapport and interest. The question, Tannen concludes, is, are we
“simply speaking at the same time or actually failing to listen. . . (and)
stealing the conversation back.”<7>
In this week’s Torah portion, we read vivid descriptions of the beautiful garments
worn by the high priest. There is a
breastpiece adorned with 12 gems, one of each tribe, reminding the priest to
keep the people close to his heart. The
priest is anointed on the thumb, the ear, and the big toe- he is to do for the
Israelites, he is to be with them, and, most relevant to our discussion, he is
to listen to them.
The Talmud raises the question- what if the priest’s body was inside the Tabernacle
but his head was outside? May he perform
his priestly duties? The rabbis answer
that he may not. His head needs to be in
the game.<8> If your head is elsewhere, you are not
considered to be a full participant. I
believe that what is true for the presiding priest is true for us in
conversation. It is important to be
fully present, and we express that attention by listening without interruption.
A hostage negotiator for the Israel Defense Forces commented that in his line of
work “listening can mean life or death.”<9> The Wall Street journal quotes Glenn Cohen,
“In a volatile situation where someone’s life is on the line, there can be no
shortcuts. You must listen. . . “<10> Fortunately for most of us our conversations
are not matters of life and death!
An article in “Unorthodox” last year concludes that “. . . it’s not quite right to value interrupting as
inherently bad. Context is everything.”<11> So-called “high intensity” speakers will
understand our interrupting as evidence of conversational engagement.
Yet, I personally felt chastened by Elizabeth
Gilbert’s comment<12>–
“Yes, I like talking, but perhaps
I don’t have to curse so much, and perhaps I don’t always have to go for the
cheap laugh, and maybe I don’t need to talk about myself quite so
constantly. Or here’s a radical concept-
maybe I can stop interrupting others when they are speaking. Because no matter how creatively I try to
look at my habit of interrupting, I can’t find another way to see it than this: “I believe that what I am saying is more
important than what you are saying.” And
I can’t find another way to see that
than: “I believe that I am more
important than you.” And that must end.”
So, I’m coming down on the anti-interrupting side.
You can take the girl out of NY, but you can’t take the NY out of the
girl. Yet, perhaps, you can convince her
to try to interrupt less and listen more.
<3> Ibid.
<4> Ibid.
<5> Qz.com/op. cit
<6> J.weekly, op.cit.
<7> Qz.com, op. cit.
<8> BT Zev. 26a
<9> Cohen, Glenn, quoted in Siegel, Masada, “A Hostage Negotiator’s
Lesson in Listening,” Wall Street
Journal, Jan. 2, 2019
<10> ibid.
<11> https://www.tabletmagazine.com/scroll/262943/ask-unorthodox-why-do-jews-interrupt-each-other/
<12> In her book, Eat,
Pray, Love, p. 193