We recently connected with Elizabeth Chur and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Elizabeth, thanks for sitting with us today to chat about topics that are relevant to so many. One of those topics is communication skills, because we live in an age where our ability to communicate effectively can be like a superpower. Can you share how you developed your ability to communicate well?
I’ve always been intrigued by the interweaving of sound and story. I grew up listening to stories from my parents, and when we visited my extended family in Hawaii, I heard my grandparents and great-aunts “talk story,” as they called it. I was also an insatiable reader, which taught me so much about what makes for a compelling narrative – vivid details, complex characters, and plot twists, to name a few elements.
I studied classical piano for 14 years, and then jazz piano for five years. In addition to all the technique and theory, a huge part of my musical training was about listening. As a child I was taught how to listen to a musical phrase that someone else played, sing it back, and then transcribe it. My teacher had me listen to three different recordings of a Beethoven Sonata and evaluate the similarities and differences, describing the nuances and artistic choices each performer made. Playing piano duets, chamber music and in the school orchestra taught me how to play in sync with others. I had to learn my own part well enough so I could hear other musicians’ lines, while staying true to my own.
Those experiences help me listen to other people’s words with intention and focus, and hear the nuances within them. That musical background has also helped me tune my own word choice and pace in a conversation, which can help me meet my conversation partner where they are.
In high school and college, I was interested in becoming a journalist. I worked on my school paper and did several reporting internships. Later I spent a year studying development of free press in Eastern Europe as a Thomas J. Watson Fellow, shortly after the fall of the Berlin Wall. Though I discovered that the intense pace of journalism was not for me, I eventually pursued training in documentary radio, and later fell into my current freelance work as a medical writer.
All these types of writing and storytelling helped me cultivate invaluable skills that support me in communicating with almost anybody. For example, I learned to ask a lot of open-ended questions (ones that can’t be answered with “yes” or “no”) as well as follow-up questions. I also try to count silently to 10 to give people a chance to think and respond. I’m a hard-core introvert and normally rather shy. However, give me a microphone or clipboard plus an assignment, and I’ll boldly approach complete strangers.
I also worked for a decade at a homeless service agency, eventually serving as their communications manager and spokesperson. I learned how to speak in sound bites for the media. I kept my ears open for compelling stories, like the woman who underwent cancer treatment while living in our homeless shelter, or the chef who went from doing an externship in Buckingham Palace to preparing lunch for 2,500 guests a day in our free dining room.
Studying Spanish has taught me so much about language and communication. There are certain phrases and grammatical structures (like the subjunctive mood!) which express ideas that just can’t be exactly translated into English. As a language learner, it’s like putting together a huge puzzle when I don’t yet have all the pieces; I try to sketch the outlines of the big picture with the pieces I do have. Context is key, and I can really improve my skills if I make an effort to learn specialized vocabulary in areas I’m most interested in, like voter engagement.
Let’s take a small detour – maybe you can share a bit about yourself before we dive back into some of the other questions we had for you?
Before 2016, I thought I was a pretty good citizen. I read the paper, voted in every election, and did a little phone banking every four years. But mostly, I figured other people would be doing the heavy lifting of knocking on doors and making phone calls to voters. I’m not sure who I thought those other people were. Elves? Idealistic college students? But I figured they’d be much better equipped to do this kind of work, and “they” would take magically care of it.
Obviously, it didn’t quite work out that way. The day after the 2016 election, I woke up feeling like someone close to me had died. I wandered around in a daze for weeks. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I vowed I’d never take democracy for granted again.
It was hard to know how to get started, but I committed to spending at least two hours a month taking concrete action. Worrying, reading the news or going to talks didn’t count toward that goal. When I’d done a few hours of last-minute phone banking before the 2016 election, I hit a brick wall when I was completely unable to communicate with Spanish-speaking voters. So when Trump kept saying, “I’m going to build a wall!” I thought, “I’m going to learn Spanish so I can talk with more voters!” I started taking Spanish classes in 2017, with the goal of learning enough by the next election to have basic conversations.
I also started writing postcards to voters, and got on progressive email lists with lots of volunteer opportunities. I began phone banking a couple times a month, and eventually worked up the courage to canvass in my nearest swing district a couple hours away, knocking doors in the 2018 midterms. I was so anxious the first time I went, but it was a thrill to use my rudimentary Spanish to talk with a voter for the first time! I also got paired up with a kind and generous retired physician, Gordon, as my canvassing buddy. We had so much to talk about that day that we stayed in touch. Today he’s one of the many close friends I’ve met through this work.
I loved doing something concrete to support full participation in our elections! I ended up canvassing every weekend until the election, helping to flip a swing district from red to blue by less than 1,000 votes. In 2020, when the pandemic hit, I teamed up with several others to develop three online trainings for other volunteers: Phone Bank and Canvassing Training for Introverts (& Friends), Spanish for Activists, and You and the 34%: How to Have Meaningful Conversations with High-Potential Voters. Since then we’ve trained more than 2,500 volunteers nationally how to have better conversations with voters.
When the pandemic eased in 2022, I spent an entire month in a swing district in California’s Central Valley, and learned even better ways to connect with voters, especially those who can be hardest to reach – young people, Latinos, and people who say, “I don’t vote.” I wanted to share my strategies and tips more widely, so I wrote my first book, The Joy of Talking Politics with Strangers: How to Save Democracy, One Conversation at a Time. It was published in September 2024 – just in time for this year’s elections.
Looking back, what do you think were the three qualities, skills, or areas of knowledge that were most impactful in your journey? What advice do you have for folks who are early in their journey in terms of how they can best develop or improve on these?
One of the things that’s helped me the most in talking with voters of all stripes is to bring my nonjudgmental curiosity to the conversation. Of course I have my own hopes for how it will go – that they’ll vote for my candidate, or perhaps decide to vote for the first time. However, I need to put my own agenda on the back burner, especially at the start of a conversation. For people who say they’re undecided or don’t like either candidate, I’ll often say, “Tell me more about that.” It’s a neutral way to open up the conversation and learn more about what’s most important to them. Each voter is an expert in their own lives – their priorities, challenges and dreams. What’s most important to them? What keeps them up at night? If they were in charge, what two or three things would they change about the country? Learning more about them helps me offer choice tidbits of information that might be especially compelling as they decide whether or how to vote.
I try to be an empathetic listener. Saying things like “That sounds really hard,” or “I’m so sorry to hear you went through that” helps them feel seen and heard. Even if I disagree with what they say, I might say, “It sound like you feel strongly about that,” or “It sounds like that was upsetting to you.” Listening intently doesn’t necessarily mean I agree. It just indicates I’m paying close attention and taking their concerns seriously. Once people feel validated, they’re much more likely to be open to what I have to say.
I also try to bring beginner’s mind to each conversation. Even if I think I’ve heard it all before, I’ve never talked with this particular voter before. I try to learn something from each person I meet. Often they surprise me, like the young man who had never voted before but said he thought there was “too much testosterone” in foreign policy, and wanted a leader who would bring more peace to international relations. Then there was the woman who worked in a hospital lab to put herself through school. She enthusiastically gushed about how she “loved bodily fluids,” because blood, urine and spinal fluid could each reveal different things about the body. Hearing what gets them excited can help me connect what’s at stake in the elections with something they care about.
What would you advise – going all in on your strengths or investing on areas where you aren’t as strong to be more well-rounded?
I think it’s important to focus on my strengths, but I get even more mileage by working on my weak spots. For example, I didn’t speak any Spanish, but seven years into learning the language I can have pretty heartfelt conversations with people I wouldn’t otherwise be able to communicate with. Similarly, I usually fear rejection. But knocking on the doors of strangers has given me lots of practice navigating indifferent or grumpy voters, without taking it so personally. Those weak areas can be bottlenecks, but if I put intention towards getting just a little stronger or more capable, my natural strengths shine through in more expansive ways than I ever thought possible.
For much of my life I avoided conflict, but talking with strangers about politics has taught me that disagreements can actually lead me to a deeper understanding of an issue. For example, I talked with one voter said that if she were in charge, she wouldn’t teach elementary students about nonbinary gender. I have a lot of queer friends, so my hackles went up. But I tried to keep an open mind, and said, “Tell me more about that.”
When she’d asked her 10-year-old son what he’d learned in school that day, he said they’d talked about nonbinary gender. She wasn’t opposed to them teaching this in high school, but felt it wasn’t age-appropriate for her young son. Already, there was a small opening in the conversation. She wasn’t denying that nonbinary gender existed or saying that it was morally wrong, but instead had concerns about how it was taught, and at what age.
She wanted to be the one to discuss sensitive issues like this with her child, rather than the school. But when she’d complained to the district, they said it was mandatory, and she had no say in the matter. That incensed her. I tried to reflect back the very best interpretation of what I heard, and said, “It sounds like you think that educating students about nonbinary gender should be a partnership between parents and the school district.” She said, “Yes! They should give parents options – so they can opt in, or send their child to a study hall instead.”
Then she added, “I think would be great to educate the parents, not just the kids.” I asked, “What do you think would be a good way to do that?” She said, “You know, like they had a webinar on Zoom for parents about how to prevent bullying. They could do something similar for this issue, so parents could learn more.” I said, “Wow, that’s a great idea!”
I was genuinely impressed! And she’s right – educating the whole family rather than just the student would probably be more effective, if the parents were willing to participate. It helped me see that she was thoughtful about this issue and had creative ideas. Although I had initially labeled her as intolerant and bigoted, I saw that that was my own bias.
I could have just pivoted to another topic, or written her off as not worth talking with because she obviously had views I disagreed with. But being willing to enter into dialogue with someone on a contentious issue helped me understand that beneath the stated position, there was more nuance and flexibility than I would have guessed. Also, bringing my natural inclination to listen carefully and be respectful helped me earn her trust. By the end of our conversation, she said she’d probably vote for my candidate – and she’d encourage her husband and son to support him, too!
Contact Info:
- Website: https://elizabethchur.com/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/elizabeth-chur-4756444/
- Other: Substack:
https://talkwithvoters.substack.com/
Image Credits
Heidi Cartan, Elisabeth Fall, Nicole Ellen Jones, Tom Shaw, Rochelle Wheeler, Damonza.
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