In Ohio, one man’s quest to get more voters to agree to disagree
About 50 people, many of them meeting for the first time, have gathered in this Greek Orthodox church hall in a suburb of Akron, Ohio. Over a buffet of chicken, pasta, and tossed salad, they politely get to know one another, five to a table, including this reporter, asking icebreaker questions provided on a sheet of paper. The atmosphere is cordial if a little hesitant.
After all, they didn’t come just for the meal.
They cast sidelong glances to the front of the room to five spotlighted director’s chairs. Each chair sits behind a printed sign, from left to right: “agree strongly,” “agree somewhat,” “neutral,” “disagree somewhat,” and “disagree strongly.”
Each chair will shortly be claimed by one of the dining companions; nobody knows who they will be.
As the meal ends, Arlin Smith, one of the event organizers, fades the music playing from his laptop and picks up a microphone. “Let’s get ready to rumble!” he growls, emulating boxing announcer Michael Buffer.
Before the “rumble,” Mr. Smith offers some guidance: Listen to the speaker, try to understand where he or she is coming from, use positive language, and be responsible for your own feelings. “We all have emotions. So when you feel those feelings kind of rattled up, try to get comfortable. Lean into the situation and take control of your own self,” Mr. Smith tells the diners.
Then he hands the mic to Ted Wetzel, the creator of this grassroots effort to help Americans of all political stripes disagree constructively and, perhaps, rebuild civic bonds in an era of intense polarization and social atomization. He titles this gathering “Dinner and a Fight,” but “Fight” is crossed out and replaced by “Dialogue.”
Mr. Wetzel, a retired small-business owner, wears a red checkered shirt and jeans with gray sneakers; half-moon reading glasses hang from his neck. He looks both elated and antsy. “This is the eleventh Dinner and a Fight, so give yourselves a round of applause,” he says.
As the clapping
