Every time we plug our ears with headphones and look at our screens we are missing out on genuine connection. It seems ironic to think that people are plugged into devices scrolling for love and likes from people they may never meet, often while standing in a room full of actual people. Look up. Ask a question. Listen. Learn. It’s how we become better people. Not by talking about ourselves, but by listening to the stories of others.
A few months ago, when my taxi didn’t arrive for an airport transfer I ordered an Uber. The closest was a Comfort Uber. Apparently, they’re nicer, cleaner, more prestigious vehicles. When I pressed through I got this weird choice of basically being able to ask the driver not to talk to me. While the idea of a quiet ride is probably appealing to some, on what planet do you need to press a button to request no human interaction? Can’t you use actual interaction to ask for that? I don’t request it. I have a question to ask my Uber driver: ‘How many people ask for no chat?’ My driver is a softly-spoken man born in India. He tells me, most people. I was like, ‘No way!’ I say: ‘Maybe they need to change the selection on the app to, ‘I am too important to speak to you,’ or, ‘I’m an asshole don’t bother’. The driver laughs and says, ‘You obviously aren’t from Sydney ma’am’. He’s right. But I am on the way to the airport so he’s got a 50/50 chance on predicting that one. Plus, I’m chatty. It’s 5am. This guy has either been driving all night or he’s just started. He has a life, and for this brief moment in time ours intersect. Why would you lose that chance to find out about someone’s experience? I am like a life detective.
I always talk to my taxi or Uber drivers. Sometimes they are the most interesting people you meet all day. And usually the people I talk to are new Australians. The first question I ask is, ‘What do you do when you aren’t driving?’ Usually your driver will be smarter, more educated, more worldly and more linguistically diverse than you. But things aren’t easy for them. That’s why they are driving. So listen up.
My driver on this particular trip was a civil engineer. He was driving to earn extra money to afford the move to Rockhampton, where he was going to be moving with his wife and his new baby, for his first Australian position in his chosen profession. He was nervous about leaving Sydney and moving to a Queensland country town. He was worried there may not be an Indian community there to touch base with. I made some suggestions about where to find mothers’ groups – through churches and libraries. When he pulled over he wrote it down and said, ‘I will call my wife after this trip. Thank you.’ I will never see Rajesh again, but we had a real conversation. It wasn’t small talk. We spoke of belonging, of what it is like to be on the outside. When I left he thanked me for talking. He said it made his day. So simple. I put down my phone and asked him a question.
Last week in Sydney my taxi driver was second-generation Chinese. His parents came here as migrants. He was passionate about politics. We talked about the need for radical change. My next taxi driver was from Pakistan. His degree was in media and communications, but to meet his visa requirements he was learning carpentry. He said it was challenging, but he liked it.
I am a white Australian. That makes me a descendant of migrants too. All non-Indigenous Australians are descendants of migrants. So stop using anti-immigration as a cover for racism, and ask people why they came here and what their experience is. It’s humbling to meet such resilient people.
Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox column has appeared in The Echo for almost 23 years. The personal and the political often meet here; she’s also been the Greens federal candidate since before the last two federal elections. The Echo’s coverage of political issues will remain as comprehensive and fair as it has ever been, outside this opinion column which, as always, contains Mandy’s personal opinions only.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
