Category Archives: leadership

The Complexity of Allyship

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Oh friends. So much is going on. How are you this week?

When I posted about white male allies last weekend, it was not just because of International Women’s Day. For the past couple of weeks, the romance audio community has roiled in allegations and discovery of unethical and predatory behavior by one individual, a male narrator and producer, against women–authors, narrators, and fans alike. My new friends and people I respect and admire have been triggered, shocked, saddened and enraged, as well as attacked and dismissed for their experiences. It’s all so discouraging, so human. The allegations are numerous and consistent. Some of the person’s defenders are aggressive and do not refrain from ad hominem attacks against those who have spoken out. Comments on all sides have escalated and people are suffering.

This post is not about parsing allegations or judging a perpetrator. It’s an exploration of the complexities of effective allyship. It’s a lot more complicated than my post last week makes out, though the central values and tenets are simple and fundamental.

Messaging with a friend a few days into the controversy, I asked, “Wondering how any male narrators would be willing/able to step up as more visible, direct allies? This is always such a big ask… I would never want them to put their own careers or personal lives in jeopardy from any backlash or get entangled in unproductive arguing… I guess it’s a question we can all ask ourselves—how we can make the most effective positive difference in our own way, given our own circumstances… how much we are willing to risk, etc…”

So, what are the questions to ask when we consider upstanding and allying?

How does this affect me directly? Indirectly?
How do I feel about it?
What do I think about it (because these are different)?
How does this affect people I care about, whom I respect and admire?
How does this affect all of our relationships, professional, personal, financial, and other?
What do I not know?
What do I need and not need to know, to act?
What can I do? What can I do? What can I do?
What am I willing to do?
What would I be trying to accomplish?
Do I have the bandwidth/reserve/resources?
What is my role here?
What will it cost me?
What will I be risking?
What is the worst-case scenario if I act or don’t, and how likely is it to occur?
What would that be like, could I handle it?
What are the consequences for others if I act or not; could I cause unintended harm?

What core values of mine, of the community, are violated here?
How can I best uphold and live into those values in this context?

What other questions do I need to ask?

Not all the questions above can be answered quickly or completely.  Emotional overload can lead to knee-jerk reactions and do more harm than good, increasing the likelihood of regret and damaged relationships in an already fraught situation. The way forward is often unclear at first.  So we must slow down, think things through. In the interim, silence may come across as indifference. Anything said or done, or not, may be criticized; no response is 100% ‘safe.’ Each of us handles stress and conflict differently. We must remember not to judge one another about how we engage–there are many ways to upstand, each partially ‘right’, and also likely incomplete.

Allyship carries cost. The first costs of thoughtful, intentional allyship are emotional and mental.

The next costs are relational, and then reputational, financial, professional–myriad. The more visible we are, the greater the potential risks of taking a stand, staking a position. If we hold a designated or implicit leadership role in the community (and I would argue that we all/each lead in some way, know it, like it, want it or not), our choices and their potential consequences are that much more complex. For someone whose livelihood depends on maintaining relationships despite conflict, costs can be high in multiple ways. Choosing between one’s ethics and paying the bills never feels good, and we never know when someone may be in that situation. We must all decide for ourselves, in real time, the risks and costs we can bear. Not everyone stands in a position to decline work or dissent safely. Conscience and context often conflict. We each make our own decisions, and in the end, we must live with ourselves—our choices, our relationships, our regrets. Judging others for doing differently from us serves no useful purpose.

Some have asked, “Do I have a right to speak here? Is it my place to say anything?”  What if the problem doesn’t involve or affect me directly?  What if I’m just butting in? I wonder if this is the question that distinguishes an upstander from a bystander?  

The list of questions above, considered thoughtfully and with core values in front, can guide us to the words and actions that feel most honest, authentic, grounded, and appropriate. In my mind it all comes back to relationship. As an ally my job, my role, and my ultimate objective is to uplift and uphold my loved ones in distress. Allyship, to me, means showing up with openness, empathy, compassion, kindness, and respect. It means validating someone’s emotions and experience, regardless of my opinions about the situation. It does not mean prosecuting without evidence or attacking on someone’s behalf. In the short term, real allies breathe, hold space, and stand in solidarity. There is a closeness, an intimate proximity that includes eye contact, erect posture, and a deep, resonant presence. I’m here for you. I see you. I’m in this with you. Even if we are not physically together, true allyship can be felt this way across great distances. In the long term, allies work for systems changes that benefit us all. If we start here, tapping into our capacity for deep Agape love, then the words and actions are more likely to come from a place of real connection.  As fellow humans, I think we do have this right, and it is our place. We are called to care for one another.

You are not alone.
I see you.
I stand with you.
We are stronger together.

Costs of allyship are real. When we bear them together, the more of us upstanding in concert, we each pay a little less. We all benefit. Allyship is leadership with presence, openness, groundedness, kindness, and love. It shows up as integrity, accountability, and respect.

Practice giving grace. We are all humans, here doing our best. We all fail. Forgiveness and accountability are not mutually exclusive.

I know this post is already long, so I appreciate that you’re still reading.  There is more!  I write to clarify and document my own thoughts and opinions, to record my own process, so I may look back and see what progress I might make.  If any of it resonates with you, dear reader, then that gratifies me.

Compassionate Accountability

I believe the people who have spoken out.  I believe they were manipulated, taken advantage of, and harmed.  I do not believe, however, that the person they accuse is evil, or in any way deserves to be threatened, dehumanized, attacked, or harmed himself, in any way.  He is human, just like the rest of us.  One of my core assumptions about humanity is that we are all here doing our best.  So how is it that some people’s best is so hurtful to others?  How are humans so loving and so scary, so constructive and destructive at the same time?  It’s too big a question to answer; we can only live it, as Rilke says.

As some have pointed out in the past week, ‘hurt people hurt people’.  I believe this, as it often explains so much.  As a fundamental perspective, this default stance in the face of harmful human behavior holds our minds open to empathy, compassion, and forgiveness, which are what heal us, perpetrators and victims alike.  We are all the amalgamation of our past experiences and those of our families of origin, traumas included, over generations.  We all have our triggers and reaction patterns, established early and evolved over a lifetime.  Severely dysfunctional behavior patterns root deeply, and the inner work required to modify or moderate them is arduous. I can hardly imagine how anyone could do it alone—heal and overcome, learn to lead with love and vulnerability—this is not do-it-yourself stuff, my friends.  And yet one of the first things we do to hurt people who hurt people is isolate them.  We judge, shame, dehumanize, and ostracize them, among other things.  How could that possibly help stop them from hurting more, both themselves and others?

This is not to say that aggressors should not be held accountable for their actions and harms.  Accusations and evidence must be aggregated and assessed objectively, thoughtfully, and in context.  “Innocent until proven guilty” is another useful premise from which to proceed.  Easier said than done, though, no?  How many allegations does it take for accusers to be believed, for any of us to act on their behalf, to upstand, defend, and advocate?  And what actions do we take? 

Once again, I go back to the list of questions above.  I need to be still, sit quietly, and settle into my own inner knowing.  After tending to the affected, how do we address the alleged perpetrator?  Separation and protection of victims from additional potential harm comes to mind first.  But here is where we must beware of that fundamentally high-risk divergence—encircling victims in love and compassion, and basically throwing away alleged offenders—ejecting them from the tribe, irrevocably, physically and socially.  The latter, while immediately gratifying, is counterproductive in the long run.  In the end, some felons forfeit their right to live freely among us.  Even then, however, their right to be treated humanely and with dignity is still innate and should be held intact.

Imagine confronting the accused calmly, kindly, and compassionately, and also firmly, calling forth their better nature to own their actions and the consequences thereof.  Picture having fortitude and magnanimity, enough inner peace ourselves, to stoically withstand their defensive backlash, however vehement, grounded in solidarity and allyship not only with their victims, but with the part of themselves that also hurts.  When I think about this, about the magnitude and depth of pain on all sides, the immensity of it all feels almost intolerable.  No wonder we short circuit to ad hominem and violence.  The overwhelming distress and anguish of holding others’ pain as well as our own, of being with all the darkness, wading into the depths—this is a cave of emotional and mental stress that few of us are experienced or trained to navigate.  And yet, I think it is where we must go, a journey we must take, to get past the oversimplified, binary, save the victim/punish the villain dichotomy.  I know some who have the skills, who embody this ethos of messy shared humanity, and who can teach and lead us, by example more than anything.

Hurt people hurt people.  How can we help one another hurt less?  

What does true allyship really mean, and how can we each and all achieve it?  For me it is both acute and chronic, simple and so complex:  It is about universal love.  In each new situation when people are hurting, I can take it slowly, ODOMOBaaT–one day, one moment, one breath at a time–to determine how my allyship manifests best, appropriate for context and aligned with my values.

This narrator/producer controversy feels like an earthquake in the romance community.  Or maybe a typhoon?  Some felt the tremors, saw the cloud formations long before anybody else.  Now it has hit, everything is shaken, and lives are altered.  Here in the immediate aftershocks, we must take care of the wounded.  First responders have mobilized, and some can only yet self-protect.  We all must take care of ourselves first.  Next, we sift through the rubble.  Everyone is affected, though differently; our losses are unique as well as shared: relationships, valued possessions, assumptions of safety, trust, and connection.  Emotions spiral, opinions fly, conflict escalates.  The more deeply we can breathe, the more slowly we can speak and act, the better we will all be in the long run.  With time, clearer, less loaded assessments may occur.  Systems, guidelines, recourse can be revised for better transparency, accountability, and equity.  Here we risk overcorrection, a hyperreactive response, all well-intentioned, and also counterproductive.  Crises will inevitably recur, and the cycles persist.  Alas, that is how we humans do.  How wildly imperfect and eternally exhausting. 

How else can we go but slowly, one step at a time, and together?    

I have included below some ally statements that I admire.  Please help me hold the romance audio community in peace and light.  And wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, whomever you’re with, I wish you what you need to stand up on behalf of those you can help.

Watch Andi Arndt’s full video here; listen to her describe so adeptly the responsibility of artists who use psuedonyms.

Watch Sean Crisden’s Instagram video here; subscribe to his YouTube channel here. He is preparing a round table discussion, which he specifically states is meant to include a divergence of perspectives. I will try to participate in that.

Watch this heartfelt video by author Cheri Champagne, describing how she is affected by the narrator/producer’s actions, as well as by the backlash against him and his company. The ripples reach far and wide. Thankfully, the community is rallying and hopefully all affected can come through with the least possible damage and trauma.

The Knock

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“I wish for more doors to open for you than to close or stay closed.”

I love middle age. At this point in life, I have accumulated enough experience to have earned real expertise, solid street cred in my domains of study and work. And yet, there is still plenty of ‘runway’ to do cool shit! That’s assuming I don’t drop dead tomorrow, of course. But even this, the keen and escalating awareness of my own mortality, makes my potential feel that much more exciting and acute.

I have had conversations with multiple friends about this lately. Many of us, especially in medicine, have lived what I would call a social norm-driven life: College, med school, residency, practice/research/academics, leadership. Date, marry, have kids. Launch kids into the same social norm-driven life. Color inside the lines, even if it’s not totally our nature–often not even noticing or questioning whether it’s our nature or not. Huh. Not good enough anymore, I think.

So much emerges now about the vastly, truly wide diversity of human nature, such as gender and sexual fluidity, psychology, physiology, and sociology. Narrow social norms taken for granted by generations, at least in the Western, ‘developed’ world, dissolve and disintegrate under scrutiny exponentially faster, it seems. It feels understandably scary in so many ways, for so many people. We have never been here before, never faced this much newness of both magnitude and volume, in the history of humanity. Anything new is uncertain, daunting. This much new is mind bending. I think we can figure it out, though, just like humans always have. If we can practice effective self-awareness, self-regulation, and communication in the face of high anxiety about the unknown, great things could ensue… though this is a great, big collective ask.

…So, what is this super cool shit any/each of us can do, whether we have lived a mainstream life thus far or not? As Mary Oliver wrote, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Some of us hear the Knock–a call, a whisper–to do something different, something new, something heretofore unimagined. For me it’s Book (well, I have imagined it for nine years, but hey, some of us also move slowly). For others it may be leaving an office job, exploring new creative outlets, pursuing long hidden or newly emergent dreams. Regardless, there is energy here. I have described it as pushing outward, broadening myself against the walls of a box within which I had not noticed I lived until now. The status quo feels newly small, constraining, unsatisfying. What I understood previously as black or white, open or closed, good or bad, right or wrong, feels ever less clearly dichotomous. Not only do I now perceive the gray, I feel pulled toward it. Touching it, experiencing it, feels liberating, expansive, an existential education that I could only think to seek by having lived this long a certain way.

The call, however, can come with no shortage of ambivalence, even conflict. For those who live with underlying depression or anxiety, this tension between the relative safety and security of the status quo and the freedom and exhilaration of answering the Knock may exacerbate symptoms significantly. When questioning my friend on the phone today about how she feels in her body when imagining the new thing, she could hardly attain, let alone stay in that sensation. Rather, her mind skipped ahead to potential negative outcomes, focusing on uncertainty and risk, bypassing said freedom and excitement. The status quo confines her, body, mind, and spirit; she feels it. Her dissatisfaction with it grows, causing agitation. I could also feel the tumult in her voice, like a roiling swirl of motion without movement, a frenetic vibration seeking resonance. I could only sit with her, from a thousand miles away, holding space. I could relate, help just by validating, even though I could not solve.

At the end of our call, I thought of the door analogy. Trying new things does not have to be all or nothing. We can go slow. There may be many doors to the new place to consider. We can check each for heat, sounds, vibrations from the other side, see which are un/locked. We can turn knobs and open slowly, peeking inside, possibly anticipate what we may find. We can back out quietly, leave it, come back later. No need to kick any doors in, potentially hurting others on the other side or causing recoil that slams ourselves in the face. We can examine potential costs, benefits, intended and unintended outcomes. And we can trust ourselves to handle whatever results from our deliberate and thoughtful decisions and actions. We can be mindful, intentional, honest, and authentic. This way, we will have less to regret, no matter what happens.

The Knock is Possibility. It is a signal of hope, light, and growth, both an uplift and a deepening. Sometimes we hear it only briefly before other sounds drown it out. When it recurs, however, I advocate for listening, following, finding its origin. We are only here for a short time. Fear and anxiety can be overcome; we can find our way to brave, new, big, wonderful things. There is no rush. And it’s probably better if we go together.

Trust and Influence–Because Shane Said So

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Instagram, @shaneeastreads, 1-3-2024

What is your morning routine? Do you run it, or does it run you?

In the video post of the screen shot above, my romance narrator hero Shane East reports on some morning advice he heard on a podcast on New Year’s Day (Huberman?), and invites followers to try it with him:
1. Upon waking, get sunlight for at least several minutes before getting on any screen
2. Delay caffeine intake for at least 45 minutes after waking
For the second, he describes the relationship between caffeine and adenosine, the neurotransmitter that promotes sleep drive. Simply, caffeine is an adenosine antagonist: when it sits on adenosine receptors in the brain, which normally slow cellular function and promote sleep, it has the opposite effect, promoting wakefulness instead. 

I dived into the rabbit hole that yielded the articles linked above, trying to understand the rationale behind that second recommendation.
My takeaways:
1. Transition from sleep to full wakefulness takes time; better to let the body do it naturally by drinking water (we get dehydrated overnight) and getting light (preferably full spectrum sunlight, but get what you can that’s not a screen) on the retinas before doing anything else.
2. Caffeine can prolong and/or amplify effects of morning norepiniphrine and cortisol, which have stimulatory effects on heart rate, blood pressure, and other systems of the body. It can interfere with physiologic adenosine recycling in the brain and, depending on dose and interval, disrupt our intrinsic sleep-wake patterns. Introducing caffeine later after waking, when adenosine levels are lower and more stable, can mitigate this disruption.
3. None of this matters nearly as much as simply getting enough sleep (both quantity and quality) as many nights a week as possible, to obviate the need for stimulants in general.
But caffeine and adenosine are not my point in this post.

Rather, why am I suddenly so motivated, almost giddy, to act on this advice just because Shane said so? Really? Not when I heard it in Why We Sleep, not when I have ever read it elsewhere. Not because I’m a doctor and I know it’s good for me and I want to walk the talk. No. My book hero got up on the third day of this new year, made a 00:01:03 extemporaneous video sharing something cool he had recently learned, invited us fans to try it with him, and that lit one of the biggest behavior change fires under my butt since I joined Ethos nine months ago.

Readers of this blog may know my night owl tendencies. I have been known to post at 1:00am, then get up at 7:00 for work. That hasn’t happened in a while, because I’m working on it! And yet, habit change is hard. I have wanted for years to get up early to write Morning Pages, a creativity and wellness practice that calls to me. But before last week, I slept through all the calls. On a good day, if I left on time for work, I’d write in the car after turning off the engine, before walking from the parking garage to the office. For seven consecutive days now, I have risen with my alarm rather than snooze it. I sit up, turn on my full spectrum bedside lamp (the bulb came with my dawn simulator years ago, and has survived its associated device), grab my journal and write three pages, stream of consciousness, so I have something to distract me from my phone and keep my eyes open to light while I wait for my caffeine. I only look at my phone to turn off the alarm and get my writing playlist going. Win-win-win-WIN!
By the end of three pages, here are my consistent findings so far:
1. I feel alert.
2. My mood is excellent.
3. I’ve gotten out ideas that marinated overnight, or maybe worked out some question I had gone to bed with the night before. Or maybe I uncovered addtional questions yet to ponder. Regardless, I have just spent 15 minutes doing something I love, first thing in the morning!
That’s all pretty amazing.

I have known about the benefits of drinking water in the morning for years. I keep a water bottle at the bedside. But it wasn’t until last week that I started chugging in the morning, while I write. And because I’m getting up earlier and spending more time awake and out of the kitchen, my morning coffee consumption now automatically occurs at least 45 minutes after waking. It all feels almost easy.

And bonus: This new practice seems to have created space for insights and ideas to emerge throughout the day. I’ve made entries in the book journal almost every day this week, and momentum grows toward writing actual chapters and a proposal. I have also realized this week that since ideas so frequently occur as I drive to work (I often grab notebook and pen, scribbling while stopped at lights–hence the parked car journaling), I will now forgo the input of audiobooks (ugly cry face) on the morning commute to facilitate my own original output in that naturally creative time. And I attribute all of this to Shane.

What is with this phenomenon?

Normally I would cogitate long and hard, analyzing the psychology of motivation, cross referencing counseling practices for behavior change, looking back at my own past patterns, etc. Not this time. Today, I’m satisfied to wonder at it all a little while, marvel at the minor miracle of it, and then chalk it up to the utterly irrational nature of human behavior. I love and admire Shane as a person. I see him as trustworthy. I appreciate that he shared this advice, prompting me to search and learn more, nudging me toward my better self. I want to report to him that I accepted his invitation and it helped me.

Because that’s one of the best relational rewards, right, when someone tells us how we help them, how we make their lives better? Isn’t this why I’m a physician? My fondest, most loving memories throughout my career are patients and trainees telling me how I have helped them–yes, it’s my job and still, any amount of validation, no matter how small, matters. It’s even more meaningful after we have gone through multiple trials in their lives or training together. The more we acknowledge this bond, the stronger it gets, the more we trust, mutually.

Patients and students absolutely influence me. Because they trust me and consider my advice, I want to be worthy of it. Trust is built slowly, earned with time, energy, and effort. How better to honor that trust than to practice what I preach, visibly, right alongside my charges? Maybe this is why Shane’s video resonates? He’s getting in the boat with us fans, acknowledging the challenge, inviting us all to journey together, do our best, and see what happens. Had he said, “Hey, I learned this cool new thing, you should try it! Good luck, tell me how it goes!” I would have a very different response.

Trust and influence. They are irrational, driven by our qualitative, ineffable, limbic and sometimes labile sense of connection. I think of trust like an oak tree–grown over many years, strong and sturdy, and also susceptible to irrevocable damage in a single breath–a broken branch never grows back. There is no substitute for the attention and nourishment, cultivated through relationship, required to maintain strong trust and real influence.

Though my energy for this new habit is high today, change is still hard. I have significantly altered my daily routine, counter to what I consider to be my innate tendencies, which is not what I usually recommend. We will see how/whether I can sustain it. Maybe it will help that I was already approaching the threshold, and Shane’s video feels like just the little nudge I needed to push me over to the next best version of myself? Fingers crossed! Lasting change is most often incremental and iterative, requiring multiple trials. So I won’t be too hard on myself if by this time next week I am back to snoozing until the last possible minute to rise, rushing out the door 30 minutes later having written nothing and gulped a good portion of my coffee already. I can forgive myself the lapse and commit to trying again–maybe on days I don’t see patients? Something is usually better than nothing. We’re all here doing our best.

Anyway, Shane, if you read this, thank you. You have made my life better for a while, and now again, and given me more things to write about, for the past week, at least. I have two more blog drafts inspired by reflections on your video. I think of them as I walk to work, and I get Resting Peace Face from the gratitude I feel for the possibilities that have opened in my life because of you being you.

And now it’s late (but not too late). Temperature is -6F outside and I need to get up even earlier tomorrow to write, hydrate, and make sure the car starts. So it’s off to bed for me. I look forward to my Pages tomorrow morning–who knows what may come of this new habit? I’m sure I’ll let you all know as it emerges.