A Listener’s Advice to His Son — Be More Sociable

On this episode of Our American Stories, before Kent Nerburn became known for his reflections on manhood and love, he was a young man circling the edges of his own life. That changed during a quiet afternoon in graduate school, when his friend Craig offered a gentle observation that revealed more about human nature than any book ever could. Craig understood what many struggle to see: people respond to interest, not perfection.

Kent shares how a single gesture helped him move past the anxious self-image that once held him still and taught him what true social skill looks like from the inside out.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:13):
This is Lee Habib and this is our American Stories.
And we tell stories about everything here on this show,
from the arts to sports, and from business to history
and everything in between, including your story. Send them to
our American Stories dot com. That's our American Stories dot com.
And our next story comes from our regular contributor, Kent Nurburne.

(00:33):
Kent is the author of Letters to My Son, which
is a compilation of letters written to his own son,
should Kent not live to see him into manhood. Today,
Kent shares with us another one of his lessons. It's
called Craigslist.

Speaker 2 (00:56):
Most young people I know, and many who are older,
live in a quiet crisis of identity about their place
in the world. Some, especially young women, spend their lives
submerging their interests into the interests of others until they
are not sure whether they have any identity at all. Others.
Very often young men try desperately to impress others by

(01:18):
parading their accomplishments and sense of self importance in an
attempt to make themselves seem somehow whole and finished. Still,
others of both sexes spend their time passing a brittle
judgment on others they perceive as different or lesser than
they are in an attempt to establish their own identity
at the expense of others. At the heart of each

(01:39):
is the fear that someone else might pass judgment on
who they are, and that they will be unmasked or
found out for the uncertainty that is at their core.
When I was younger, I was played with this fear

(02:01):
as anyone else. Often I would dare not to act
for fear of someone judging me. Other times I forced
myself into the center of discussions in a pitiful attempt
to make sure I was recognized for everything I thought
or did. I excluded others, I demeaned others, I pointed
out their weaknesses and inconsistencies as a way of raising
myself by lowering those around me. Sometimes I was aware

(02:24):
of it, other times I was not. It took a
chance comment by a friend of mine, long after I
had reached adulthood, before I could begin to lift myself
out of the uncertainty that surrounded my sense of self.

(02:45):
Craig was a close friend of mine. He was one
of those people who brought energy and life into any
room he entered. He had an uncanny ability to focus
his entire attention on you while you were talking, so
you suddenly felt more important and more responsible than you
had before he started listening. He made you better by
being around him. People loved him. He and I went

(03:06):
to graduate school together. We had a lot in common.
We both were having women troubles, We both were seekers.
We both were perhaps too aware of our own foibles
for our own good. But he lived in the sunlight
of the spirit, while I lived under a full moon.
We were like mirrors to each other, revealing dimentions of
our beings that otherwise we never would have seen. One

(03:37):
sunny autumn day, we were sitting in our study areas,
half talking and half working on some now forgotten projects
for our graduate degrees. I was staring out the window
when I noticed one of my professors walking across the
parking lot. He had been away all summer and we
had not parted on good terms. I had taken great
offense at some suggestion he had made, and had in

(03:57):
turn given great offense in my answer. We had not
seen each other since that day. Damn it, I said
to Craig, I don't want to see him. Why not,
Craig asked, I explained what had happened the previous spring.
We left on bad terms. I said, besides, the guy
just doesn't like me. Craig walked over and looked down
at the passing figure. I think you've got it wrong,

(04:19):
he said. You're the one who's turning away, and you're
just doing that because you're afraid. He probably thinks you
don't like him, so he's not acting warm toward you.
People are like that. They like people who like them.
If you show him you're interested in him, he'll be
interested in you. Go on and talk to him. Craig's

(04:40):
words smart. I walked tentatively down the stairs into the
parking lot. I mustered my best smile and warmest feelings
and greeted my professor and asked how his summer had been.
He looked at me, genuinely surprised at my warmth, and
put his arm over my shoulder. We walked off talking.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see
Craig at the window broadly. It was so simple, yet

(05:08):
I had never seen it. I was coming to all
my encounters with a fear that others were judging me,
when in fact they were afraid I was judging them.
We were all living in a fear of being judged
by the other, while the empty space between us was
waiting to be filled by a simple gesture of honest,
caring people like people who liked them. Those words allowed

(05:29):
me to see the world through new eyes. Instead of
seeing judgment in the eyes of others, I saw need,
not deep, yawning need, but the simple human need to
be noticed and cared about. I began to realize that
most people were not waiting to judge the adequacy of
my actions. They were waiting for the chance to share
something about themselves. Craig knew this. He basked in people

(05:52):
as if basking in sunlight. Their lives warmed him, and
they loved sharing themselves with him. That was what made
him so special. From that day forward, I turned my
life around. It was not easy. I still spent too
much time fearing the judgment of others, and I still
got hurt when arrogant people took advantage of my openness
and used it either to laugh at me or to

(06:13):
demean me. But I found that by taking the chance
and liking other people, the world opened up before me.
I discovered a world of people I would never have
known had I kept only to my own interests. Car mechanics, cashiers,
crazy people, thieves, all had their stories to tell. The wealthy,
the poor, the powerful, and the lonely. All were as

(06:35):
full of dreams and doubts as I was. Farmers talked
to me about tractors. Scientists spoke to me about Adams.
I learned what it is like to grow up on
the Australian coast, and I learned how it feels to
pack boxes all day long. If you are the one
who reaches out, if you are the one who dares
to like people, the walls around you will fall away.

Speaker 1 (07:00):
And great job on that, Monty especial thanks to Kent Neurburne.
He's the author of Letters to My Son of father's
wisdom on manhood, life and love. People are like that,
They like people who like them. It was so simple,
he said, I'd just never seen it. Kent Neurburne's story,
Craig's lesson here on our American Story Lee hbib here

(07:28):
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(07:52):
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