River Roots Redevelopment: Truth, Turkey, and Grandma’s Knitting

Selina Pedi-Smith,

Founder, Pellere Foundation

I have a question for you.

How do we tell people the things they might not want to hear, but kind of need to hear. And even more importantly, how do we learn to graciously accept that kind of feedback ourselves?

It’s been on my mind lately, probably from watching the news… and from the simple realities of the holidays, which seem to be prime season for interesting communication patterns. We tend to go one of three ways: we either approach conversations like an MMA match, or we go for the gold medal in smiling and nodding while swallowing every authentic thought (you know the scenarios: “Oh, Uncle Buck, the turkey is perfect!” we insist, vigorously gnawing on the overcooked bird for the third hour straight. “Oh, Grandma, these socks are just lovely!” we croon, even though we haven’t willingly worn a knitted sock since middle school), OR we just hunker down and try to ignore everything until it passes.

And I gotta ask… how do any of those options feel when you’re on the receiving end? Do you enjoy it when someone treats every slightly different opinion you have as a threat to their very existence? Do you feel good inside when you know someone is lying to you to “save your feelings”? Do you feel respected when someone pretends not to hear you at all, like your thoughts are optional background noise? So why do we think it’s “kind” to lie to others, and accept lies as necessary for politeness?

Now, I’m not saying let’s all go the MMA route. We see plenty of that, too. My-way-or-the-highway bravado, bulldozing anything in its path. Nobody learns from that. Nobody feels seen in that. And honestly, most of the time, it’s just deep insecurity doing laps around the room.

But maybe, just maybe, there’s a middle ground.

A way of speaking truth without weaponizing it.

A way of hearing truth without treating it like a personal attack.

A way of showing up as ourselves without requiring everyone else to be a carbon copy.

Because this isn’t just about dining tables and holiday casseroles. It’s on the sidewalk with our neighbors. It’s at community meetings. It’s at conference tables in fancy boardrooms. It’s everywhere human beings gather and try to build - or even just maintain - something important together.

Here’s the thing: if we expect everyone to love everything we do or agree with us all the time, we’re already setting ourselves up for disappointment. Just like the bumps in the road we talked about last time, the bumps in our conversations are gonna happen. They’re just part of being human, part of navigating life with other people who are also trying their best with the information they have.

And whether it’s over turkey or geopolitics, the stakes are surprisingly similar. If we can’t talk honestly, we can’t understand each other. And if we can’t listen honestly, we can’t understand ourselves. It seems to me that a whole lot of the trouble we find, in families or in far more complicated places, comes from treating difference as danger instead of simply… difference.

So maybe this season, we try something gentler and braver than silence or combat. A little truth spoken kindly. A little truth received without flinching. A small step toward conversations that feel less like emotional landmines and more like pathways.

Because the goal isn’t perfect agreement. It’s real connection. It’s trust. It’s the kind of honesty that lets Grandma keep knitting… and maybe knit something you’ll actually wear. It’s the kind of listening that lets Uncle Buck know he’s loved, even if it’s time to give ham a go. It’s the kind of communication that makes everything we build together - families, communities, societies - just a little sturdier.

Maybe even a little kinder.

---

Rachel Brosnahan is the Community Engagement Coordinator for River Roots Redevelopment. Want to help us rethink what redevelopment can look like—together? Follow the conversation and share your thoughts with us on Facebook and LinkedIn, or reach out directly to rachel@riverrootsredevelopment.org. We’d love to hear from you!