Moving On From the Last Two Weeks

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Hello again, friends!  Is this the longest I’ve been away since I started this blog?  Can’t remember, doesn’t matter!  Good to be back!  Hope you all are well. J

I aim to get back in the swing of writing before November’s National Blog Post Month, or NaBloPoMo, as it’s known… I have my list of potential topics all laid out, can’t wait can’t wait!  So here is the first of four weekly posts I hereby commit to attempting in October.

Soooo…  Is anyone else as mentally and emotionally exhausted as I am these past few weeks?  It would take too long to write it all out, and I am really trying hard to get to bed on time these days, so suffice it to say here that it’s been ugly and damanging to many, and we had all better figure out how to move forward lest we eat each other alive.

Throughout the debates on sexual assault, teenage promiscuity, alcohol use, judicial temperament, character, and integrity, I have truly appreciated voices that speak to our higher capacities for connection and understanding.  More specifically, I have sought people on one side of an issue seeking to bridge the gap between theirs and the other.  Now that the deed is done, I look back on the most thoughtful articles, the ones that give me hope for the future of civil discourse.

First, Benjamin Wittes wrote two pieces for The Atlantic.  Initially he laid out how Brett Kavanaugh could present himself such that we Americans could sleep at night with him on the high court.  Despite the impossibility of proving or disproving the allegations against him, Wittes argued, it was his responsibility to convince us that he is truly worthy of the post.  After his rageful and disrespectful performance at the second hearing, Wittes wrote again, expounding on why the judge, despite his legal qualifications, should not be elevated due to his apparent lack of candor and the caveat that would always follow his opinions.  In both pieces, Wittes makes clear that he has no problem with conservatism and Kavanaugh’s jurisprudence.  But as a progressive myself, I felt reassured by Wittes’s words that someone on ‘the other side’ understood my concerns and validated them.

I read a lot of social media posts pointing to the devastating sequelae for men when falsely accused of rape and sexual assault.  I felt gratified to find at least one article reviewing evidence and statistics for this, basically showing that the number is vanishingly low, compared to the incidence of actual sexual assault and violence.  When I post such articles, though, my friends who support Kavanaugh’s nomination are unlikely to read, and more likely to feel I simply ignore their concerns.  So when I found this article, written by Emily Yoffe, a victim of sexual assault herself, advocating due process for the accused, I wanted to share.  I thought that by acknowledging and validating ‘the other side,’ I might open a window for my point of view to enter my “opponents’” minds and prompt consideration.

I admire Senator Murkowski from Alaska, for voting and speaking her mind, pointing us all to the larger picture of the integrity and reputation of our democratic institutions, while also pointing to and maintaining the humanity of all involved.  And then this article by Howard Zinn from 2005 came across my feed this weekend, reminding us citizens of our role in the workings of government and societal progress.

Finally, I was able to unwind with the kids today by watching some Avengers movies.  We like Black Panther in particular, with its epic vistas, futuristic technology, and rich cultural backdrop.  At the end, when King T’Challa addresses the United Nations, his words struck me as exactly what we need across our country and indeed around the world today.  I may print and post them by my bed, to remind myself of how I want to think, speak, and act:

We will work to be an example of how we, as brothers and sisters on this earth, should treat each other. Now, more than ever, the illusions of division threaten our very existence. We all know the truth: more connects us than separates us. But in times of crisis the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look after one another, as if we were one single tribe.”

Now is the time, more than any in my life so far, when we must call loudly and desperately on the ‘better angels of our nature.’  How can we manifest them the most radiantly?

 

Hold One Another Up

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Hello Friends!

How was your week?  I wrote in my last, very brief post that it had been a hard few weeks, but whoa-Nellie, these past 10 days or so have been a bit unbelievable.  But then again, almost nothing is truly unbelievable anymore.

When the news first came out about families getting separated at the border, I felt profound empathy for the parents, and then the kids, imagining their despair, grief, and lasting trauma.  But the administration is now targeting even naturalized citizens, looking for fraud on applications to deport people.  My parents, my husband, and all of his siblings are all naturalized citizens.  My son is currently abroad and it occurred to me to wonder whether he will be held up in customs and immigration on his return.  At this point I cannot know for sure that my own child, a native-born American citizen, won’t be kept from me, and even though it is unlikely, I now feel it fully in the realm of the possible.  I know I’m not the only one.  That is simply unacceptable.

It also occurred to me that any of my Latinx friends and co-workers could be stopped on the street or approached on a bus or train, and commanded to show proof of citizenship, as so many across the country have experienced, illegal and unconstitutional as it may be.  45 actually autographed photos of people who have been killed by illegal immigrants, while denying that native-born citizens commit proportionally more crime than immigrants, legal or illegal.   Right now, June 2018 in the United States, it feels to me that only straight, white, Christian, cisgender males are safe.  It all makes me want to vomit.

In the past year or so, people who know me call me an ‘activist.’  I take immense pride in this perception, and at the same time feel a little unworthy.  What have I done?  In 2017 I wrote a lot of letters to Members of Congress–even had Healing Through Connection stationery printed to do it.  I called.  I donated.  I marched.  2018 has been slower in action.  I’m still reading, keeping up, donating, and engaging on social media.  But I feel like it’s not enough, that I should be doing more.

Today I am more aware than ever that most of my colleagues and institutional leaders are white.  I am East Asian.  We are not the targeted groups.  However empathetic and outraged we may feel, we are likely only indirectly affected by current events.  So many of our support staff, however, are people of color.  They hold positions in the organization with the least autonomy, authority, and voice.

We are all expected come to work every day and do our jobs.  We take care of patients.  We put our personal feelings, stressors, and worries aside and meet our patients where they need us, and nobody knows what we might be dealing with ourselves.  But we do this now during a mind-bending crisis of national conscience.  Now is the time when our emotional and social support networks are called forth and tested.  As a physician, a default leader of the patient care team, how can I not acknowledge this profound disturbance of our collective consciousness?  How can I expect my team to perform optimally in a false vacuum?  The realities of our world are simply inescapable, and they affect us all, like it and accept it or not.

I may not be marching in front of Congress or the DHS.  I may not be writing legislators or calling them every day.  I am not a designated leader of my professional society, publishing op-eds on the long term health and societal consequences of our government’s actions.  But I can absolutely stand up in solidarity with and for the people closest to me.

So this week I expressed to my teams in no uncertain terms that whatever anyone is feeling or going through right now, they should know that their physician leaders support them, and we will be here for them however they need us, just like we are all here for our patients.  I made no overt political commentary.  I simply acknowledged the moral morass I see in our country and tried my best to make it safe for us all to experience it together, out loud and in person, and to help one another through it.

If there were ever a time for physicians to walk the talk as leaders, as caregivers for the caregivers, it is now.  I know now that I don’t have to be the loudest or most visible ‘activist.’  I just have to act in accordance with my core values.  And it starts with holding up the people right next to me every day.

It’s a Bad Day, Uncle Groper

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What if your favorite uncle, whom you have always regarded as funny, warm, loving, and virtuous, if a little odd, were accused of sexual harassment or assault?  This is what it feels like to learn of Al Franken’s assault on Leann Tweeden in 2006.  I feel nauseated, embarrassed, disappointed, and confused.  I have liked Al Franken for a long time, ever since his Stuart Smalley bits on Saturday Night Live.  It wasn’t until I listened to his recent memoir, Al Franken, Giant of the Senate, that I learned more about him and liked him even better.  He’s a little too sarcastic and biting for me sometimes, but after hearing his stories of how he became a Democrat and what motivated him to run for office, his family’s emotional journeys and how things work in the Senate, I came to see him as a respectable public servant with the interests of his constituents and all Americans at heart.  I have recommended his book to many of my friends.  I have regarded him as a champion for all things progressive, including women’s rights and equality.

And now all of that is thrown in the blender with allegations that I assume are true.

How do I reconcile this?  How does a person, whom I still believe respects women at his core, behave like this?  Ever?  Do I throw away everything about him that I believed was virtuous, everything he has said and written that I agree with, his decades-long marriage, and relabel him as a misogynist because of this one revelation?  Do I assume that because now we know of one, there must be dozens of others?

I am forced to compare my response to allegations against him to that of allegations against Roy Moore.  I don’t know anything about Roy Moore, but he’s an ultra-conservative Republican (I am a heavily left-leaning independent), so if he goes down for sexual assault, I’m not that bothered, and I’m judgmental of people who defend him.  I must concede that neither party can claim moral superiority.  Just this week at least three articles examined the precedent set by Bill Clinton’s sexual escapades from which he plainly escaped a rightful accounting; the precedent his (and Hillary’s) dismissal of all allegations set for everything we see now, and why he should have resigned after admitting his abuse of power.  And today Nate Silver laid out an excellent case for Al Franken to resign now.  I agree that that would be the epitome of Walking the Talk, aside from not having committed the groping in the first place.

My inner conflict now churns on two levels.  First, I must decide what I now think and feel about Al Franken, whether I can still trust him, and how I will interpret any of his words or actions hereafter.  I feel betrayed, and the positivity needle in my mind has how swung a few degrees more toward cynicism, which I hate.  Second, I must examine my immediate reactions when such allegations are made against my political opponents.  I think we can agree that there are some cases of flagrant misogyny, based on years of evidence of poor principles and lack of respect in multiples realms of a person’s life, and we are not concerned with their political leanings—assholes are assholes regardless of party.  But if and when a reputable conservative were to be accused, would I give him the same benefit of the doubt that I wanted to give Al Franken today?  Shouldn’t I try harder to be both objective and compassionate, and rise above my political biases?  Is it appropriate to say we all make mistakes, and that we should give people a chance to prove that they now know better?  If I am willing to say that for Franken today (and I’m not sure I am), will I be willing to say it for, say, Jeff Flake tomorrow?

We all need to decide for ourselves how much we are willing to abide by the standards to which we hold others.  It’s easy until we find ourselves in hot water. So do we lower our standards or rise to the occasion?  Perfectionism and shame loom heavy when we aspire to live a virtuous life, and we can also become arrogant and judgmental.  Then again, looseness with integrity is no way to lead, either.  I wonder what I would do if I were in Al Franken’s shoes tonight.