My father, a barber, understood the power of listening. I learnt from him how important it is.
‘The barber is the working man’s psychiatrist.’ he would tell us. His customers ranged from judges in the high court of Ireland to members of the paramilitaries and everyone in between. I would ask him what sorts of things people told him while they were ‘on the chair’; he would never disclose. It was sacrosanct.
Whatever you say, say nothin’
Men told him things they wouldn’t tell their wives, or even their priest. At the height of The Troubles, he said some of the things he heard made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. But he knew that the barbershop was one of the few spaces that men felt comfortable and safe enough to talk. And so, he listened.
Saturday job
I worked in his barber shop every Saturday from the age of 14 for a few years. I’d stand at the till waiting to take payment from customers, and I watched how he listened. The first time I saw it, I was struck by how physical it was. Standing behind the chair, looking at the customer in the mirror, listening intently. The hair cutting had stopped; something important was being said. A stillness came over him as the man in the chair spoke. The look on my Dad’s face, focused but not intense, empathetic without being patronising. And when it was his turn to speak, they listened back.
The impact on wellbeing
Not every customer interaction was like this of course, most of the time it was small talk or no talk at all but every now and again I could tell he was having a real conversation. I learnt a lot about the importance of listening on those Saturdays. Men, even the ‘hard’ ones, walked out lighter than when they walked in.
Art as a springboard for conversation
Being heard, sharing our stories with all our flaws and vulnerabilities, and having that story met with kindness is one of the greatest experiences we can have for our mental health. In museums and galleries we often encounter people’s narratives. When you gather a group of individuals in front of an artwork and ask them what they think of it, you’d be surprised by what comes out. The lives being lived, the perspectives, the personal histories. It’s all in there.
It’s a privilege in my job to hear what people think about art because what they’re really sharing with me is their story. And so, I listen.
Louise Thompson
Louise Thompson 