The Art of Questions

You know why the hard questions must be asked. It is not altruism, it is self-preservation—survival. —Audre Lorde, Oberlin College Commencement Address, 1989

In my neighborhood, children were strongly discouraged from asking questions or questioning adults. Statements such as “Because I said so,” “Who are you talking back to?” and “Sit down and shut up before I give you something to cry about” were the pervasive parenting strategies.

But my mother was different. She encouraged us to have a voice, ask questions, speak out and self-advocate. In fact, she believed in the art of questions and questioning, sometimes ad nauseam. Whenever my siblings or I were suspected of misbehaving, we endured hourslong lectures—or as we called them “trials”—that required an opening statement of explanation, a logical defense for our behavior and a counterargument for why she shouldn’t cause bodily harm to us.

So, by age 11, I was a masterful diplomat and activist. I could articulate what I wanted, defend my position and offer win/win solutions.

After years of practice, this gift of questioning has become second nature. I’m generally known as the disruptive person in the back of the room asking difficult questions no one wants to ask, or answer. Like my mother, I enjoy the hunt for answers and the thrill of discovery. At times my questioning skills are celebrated; other times, dangerous. I can still see my siblings slowly backing out of the room after I asked a tough question, abandoning me to face the penalty of offending ‘judge’ Gladys alone.

Unfortunately, my childhood encounters would not be the last time my love for inquiry and critical questioning left me feeling isolated and alone. At the peak of my professional career, I quickly identified friends and colleagues who also slowly backed out of the room or conversations to evade the path of conflict out of fear. As if I was hiding a dead skunk in my blouse, after a tough question, colleagues and friends expediently avoided my presence. At least, until they needed my help.  Over time, I learned to accept the penalty and consequences of my gift of questioning and enjoy eating lunch alone. Besides, who doesn’t enjoy lunch in solitude every once in a while.

Here are a few other lessons I’ve learned:

1.   Deep inquiry, or the art of questioning, is not simply a function of getting the “right” answer: It is the conduit that sparks innovation that transforms people, places and entire organizations. The need to be right is a byproduct of ego and power. The need for deep inquiry is about social change.

2.   Always ask more questions. There is always a backstory, and no single person is sufficiently equipped to comprehend the absolute truth.

3.   Only through the art of questioning, do we enlarge our capacity for discovery. For in asking a great probing question, we should never assume the person in authority is always capable of making the right decision or that great decisions are made in a vacuum.

The “trials” in the court of Ms. Gladys helped to cultivate my love for deep inquiry and appreciate diverse discourse. They also taught me how to stand alone when the going got tough. For as Audre Lorde suggests in the opening quote—hard questions are not about altruism, they are about self-preservation—survival. #Navigate Courage