Copyright Boulder Daily Camera
Dear Boulder, I haven’t written much about the letters and responses I’ve received lately. That’s partly because they’ve been erratic. Most have come from people who’ve reached out to share their appreciation for the column or how a particular piece resonated with them. Others wrote to connect on different topics. One letter simply asked, “What do you mean when you write about love in our community?” This morning, I received two letters that couldn’t have been more different, and together they inspired today’s column. In response to my last question, one reader shared how a small act of courage and kindness from someone recently helped them feel deeply seen, and that moment changed how they moved through the world that day. They found themselves meeting others with more openness, kindness, and compassion, carrying forward the quiet courage that had been offered to them. It reminded them how a single act of honesty or care can ripple far beyond its moment. The other letter offered criticism — the first of its kind since I began Dear Boulder — and it caught me a little off guard. It came from someone who used to write often but hadn’t in weeks, and it simply said they found my last couple of columns hypocritical. Nothing more. No context, no examples. I sat with that for a while. At first, it stung. I even checked to make sure they hadn’t sent it to the wrong columnist. But after the sting settled, what I felt most was curiosity. I wanted to understand what they meant. I’m always open to being wrong and learning new things about the world, myself and how my writing resonates (or doesn’t) with others. The contrast between those two letters — one full of gratitude, the other disappointment — made me think about an old parable. It’s the story of the two wolves that live inside each of us. One is fueled by anger, fear and pride; the other by love, hope and compassion. The two are always wrestling, and the one we feed the most is the one who wins. Lately, it seems easy to feed the angry wolf in ourselves and in each other. The snap judgments. The quick takedowns. The arguments that convince no one but deepen the divide. And nowhere does that angry wolf eat better than in social media, the loudest and loneliest town square we’ve ever built. We go there searching for connection, but end up feeding on outrage and the need to be right. Yet the same web that spreads anger can also carry empathy. Every pause before posting, every kind word or curious question, is a chance to choose differently — to build instead of break. The angry wolf can also narrow our sight, convincing us there’s only one story to see in someone. Raise your hand if you’re as startled as I am to find yourself nodding along with Marjorie Taylor Greene lately. She’s breaking party lines to support an expansion of health-insurance subsidies — a reminder that people are complicated. Those two letters arrived within hours of each other, opposite kinds of feedback that left me asking: Which wolf will I feed today? Will I respond with understanding or defensiveness, kindness or anger? I was grateful for both perspectives, and while the criticism triggered some negative emotions, I also saw it as a connection and an opportunity to grow. Feedback has that power. It can divide or connect, wound or open. But when it’s offered with care, it can also be a gift; something we share to help each other grow. It made me think of how little we practice staying kind and curious with feedback. Here are some tips I find helpful: When Giving Feedback • Check your intent. Ask why you’re offering feedback — to help, to understand, or to hurt. The “why” shapes the “how.” • Aim for change, not catharsis. Venting relieves you; clarity helps them. Say what you hope will change, and say it kindly. • Be kind and specific. Replace labels with examples: “When you interrupt, I feel unheard.” • Choose timing and tone with care. Hard truths deserve calm delivery, not frustration or public airing. Take a breath and use words that make understanding more likely, not pain more certain. • Leave space for dignity. Feedback should help someone stand taller, not smaller. When Receiving Feedback • Pause before reacting. Anger or defensiveness is natural — let it settle before responding. • Stay curious. Listen for what they’re trying to show you, even if you disagree. • Find the message beneath the delivery. Clumsy feedback can still hold truth. Listen for the useful part. • Respond with intention. Ask: Why am I replying — to be right, to connect, or to understand? And will it help? Sometimes silence is wiser when feedback is unkind or unsafe. • Keep self-respect. Take what helps you grow; release what doesn’t. For Both • Feed connection, not contempt. • Assume good intent until proven otherwise. • End with gratitude, because saying thank you closes the loop with respect, even when you disagree. The wolves will keep wrestling inside us, but both belong. The fearful one isn’t bad; it’s protective. It learned to growl to keep us safe. The loving one knows safety can also come from connection, and whispers back, “You can rest now. I’ve got this.” Wholeness comes when we embrace them both and let them work together, the one that guards and the one that opens. Too much fear and we harden; too much openness and we lose our footing. But together, they make us strong and soft in all the right ways. Perhaps the real work isn’t choosing sides, but helping both parts of ourselves and each other feel seen and safe enough to choose love. I’ll close by responding to the other letter I mentioned, which asked about what love looks like in community and among strangers. I think it begins with self-awareness, and knowing which wolf we’re feeding in ourselves and in each other. It’s in how we give and receive feedback, how we speak, listen and show up — with intention — at work, in the grocery store, online. Love looks like remembering each other’s dignity and our shared humanity, even when it’s hard. It can also be an action. Currently, our neighbors who are losing SNAP food benefits need our help. If you’re able to help, visit: Food Support for Boulder Households. Because sometimes love looks like a conversation, and sometimes it looks like a donation. This week’s question: How have you shown love in your community lately, or how has your community shown love to you? Jovita Schiffer is a community builder and former State Senate candidate who creates programs that center equity, belonging, and community resilience. She lives in Boulder County and believes in the power of compassion and brave conversations to bring people together. Email: dearboulderjo@gmail.com.
