I recently read an article in the Washington Post titled “I spent a week at a chat bench. Here’s what I learned.” My first thought was what a great way to have a beautiful, objective, free, conversation. I know a lot of schools have implemented such benches to help children get over their social anxiety. However, the history of chat benches first appeared five years ago, the brainchild of a British police officer concerned about scammers targeting lonely elderly people. The purpose continues to be for those who are lonely or elderly. Though, as Annabel Abbs-Streets points out, she was neither. Instead, she is just dealing with one of life’s common parental dilemmas. I won’t spoil how Annabel Abbs-Streets research went for her, but I will share her Day 2: “I arrived to find a man sitting on the bench, fiddling with his phone. I paused. Should I wait for him to initiate? Or dive right in? I took a leap. ‘This is a bench for chatting,’ I said. The man looked bewildered. I pointed to the plaque. ‘I would love to talk!’ he said, and… I panicked. What would I say? What if he was weird or dangerous? I muttered an excuse and fled. Immediately regretting my rash exit, I resolved to return the next day.” Annabel Abbs-Streets reaction seemed common. I told a few friends and my spouse about this article and told them I could see myself sitting on one of these and talking to a stranger. They reminded me that I am a therapist. This made me laugh, and I thought it was fair enough. Would you sit on such a bench and be open to engaging a stranger in a conversation?
