This Is the Work

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Every chance I get now, I ask people, “What stands out the most for you, from the last three months and the last three weeks?”  Every answer is unique, just like every person is.  And I cannot really predict what anyone will say.  It’s fascinating.

In this time some of us have been blessed with a chance to really look inward and reflect, consider, reassess, recalibrate.  But what will we have to show for it?  What is our Work?

This week I had eleven conversations centered around COVID-19 and Black Lives Matter.  Only two were incidental; the others were all intentional, most initiated by me.  Only three were with people of color, all women.  I have learned so much, and it motivates me to continue my query widely.

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I started following Seerut K. Chawla on Instagram, who developed these graphics that really capture what we are all witnessing around race.  Amy Cooper and Derek Chauvin manifest the insidious and overt versions of weaponizing white fragility.  They and others instigated the tidal wave of activism we see today.  I feel weirdly, gravely grateful.  They kicked open, with utter impunity, the door to the profound opportunity for both individual and collective growth and advancement that we confront, right here, right now.

We are all called to face our discomfort head on, to stand up and take responsibility.  We can no longer escape the harsh reality of choice that we all must continually face:  Do what’s Right or do what’s easy.  Let’s assume for a moment that it really is that simple—all qualifications moot.  It may be unrealistic to expect ourselves to choose Right every time…because qualifications.  But aaaaarrrgh we do not do it nearly, nearly enough.  Nothing will change without a critical mass of us choosing Right, much more of the time, for a very long time to come.

performative allyship

My chief concern is that the current moment passes, and nothing meaningful will result.  I learned two new phrases this past week:  “virtue signaling” and “performative allyship”.  Basically they mean that we respond superficially to a trendy peer pressure, to appear supportive of Black Lives.  I imagine part of such words and even actions are sincere to some degree.  But they serve mostly to make us feel better about ourselves.  And the risk is high that this sudden hyper-motivation will go the way of New Year’s resolutions, once we have soothed ourselves, in order to revert to our prior, comfortable obliviousness.

My friends, we cannot let that happen.

But how?  What do we need in order to really seize this chance of a lifetime, to sustain action into meaningful policy reform?  We need one another.

Our work is to listen, self-educate, engage, and persist.

We must tolerate, even embrace the discomfort, knowing that it is nothing compared to what Black people have suffered for 400 years.

Our approach must be founded in Curiosity, Humility, and Respect.

Our goals, first and foremost, are to learn, to understand, and to connect.

authentic allyship

We can and should each start small, with our own inner work.  Actually this is not really small, is it?  Looking at these panes, I bet most of us don’t live all the time in Authentic Allyship.  This is the Work.  The activation energy for collective change requires all of us together to overcome, before we could ever hope to sustain that change.

And there is good news!  Going together synergizes our energy, lowering each of our individual thresholds for openness and learning, allowing us to advance the collective that much faster!  We can speak and act in our own small circles of influence—our tribes.  Then we reach out and merge our tribes, bonding in solidarity, common purpose, and love.  Is it not inspiring??

Stop with the ‘yes, but…’  Do the right thing, more and more and more and more and more.  Support each other doing it, show up for one another—hold each other up!  Allow for mistakes and imperfection, for continuous learning.  Seek the very next opportunity.  We can do this, Yes We Can.

The pieces below inspire me.  Take the time to read and listen.  Share in the comments what keeps the flame of change alive for you.  I see things changing already.  Let’s keep going.  We’ got this if we go together.

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The Heartbeat of Racism is Denial” by Ibram X. Kendi

Denial is fueled by the stigma associated with being a racist. Feeding the stigma is how “racist” is considered almost like an identity, a brand.

But a racist is not who a person is. A racist is what a person is, what a person is saying, what a person is doing.

Racist is not a fixed category like “not racist,” which is steeped denial. Only racists say they are not racist. Only the racist lives by the heartbeat of denial.

The antiracist lives by the opposite heartbeat, one that rarely and irregularly sounds in America — the heartbeat of confession.

How to Build an Antiracist World, TED Conversation with Ibram X. Kendi

Antiracist Resources from the Greater Good Science Center at the University of California, Berkeley

Unarmed Professionals Will Now Respond to Non-Criminal Police Calls in San Francisco

The Power and Potential of Blind Spots

Sunset 10-25-2019

Whoa Nellie, what a week.  How are you?  What’s vexing you most right now?  What’s holding you up?

A 651 KB PDF sits portentously in my work inbox.

It’s the report of the 14 people who completed surveys for my 360 leadership evaluation.  What a fantastic learning opportunity (assuming the feedback is concrete and actionable)!  I had planned to do it last winter, and then I procrastinated.  And then the pandemic hit.  At home and not seeing patients, I debated whether to bother people with such a frivolous ask.  I decided to proceed because as a leader, what better chance and reason to get real time feedback than during a crisis?  And will there be a better time in the coming months?  I am grateful to/for the 14 respondents.

My biggest fear is that I will be blindsided, and then frozen, by unexpected and severely negative feedback.  I’d say I have a moderate case of imposter syndrome.  So this report carries, in my lizard brain, a high risk of confirming every insecurity I harbor about my leadership, personality, and value to my (any!) organization.  *deep breath*

Johari Window

https://www.communicationtheory.org/the-johari-window-model/

 

Thankfully I am more than my threat-vigilant self; I can receive feedback calmly and rationally.  And, I have support.  One of my LOH classmates introduced me to the Johari Window model the other day.  How have I not come across (remembered) this model before now?  Into the first of the four panes, my ‘Arena’, I put aspects of my leadership style that are known to both myself and others—strengths and weaknesses.  A second pane, my ‘Façade,’ comprises things known to me but that I conceal from others.  These can include deep seated fears, insecurities, traumas, and other emotional baggage.  I bet many of us underestimate the influence and consequences of façade traits on our leadership style and results.  My 360 will show what lives in the upper right pane, my ‘Blind Spot(s)’—what is known to others and not known to me—hence the risk for being ‘blindsided.’  Finally, the parts of my leadership that are as yet unknown to both myself and to others are simply labelled ‘Unknown.’  I have renamed this quadrant ‘Potential for Supported Learning and Growth.’

The best possible result from this 360 exercise is a new, clear, and useful awareness of my leadership Blind Spots.  In her book Insight, Tasha Eurich asserts that true, effective self-awareness embraces and processes both the self-known and other-known domains, and their intersection.  I plan to map out my Johari Window for both strengths and weaknesses before opening my report.  Then I can organize them into broad categories as a framework for approaching the results, and see how well they reconcile (or not).

But beyond professional leadership in my little clinical practice, how else can I apply this self-awareness framework?  How can this exercise inform larger, more global  relationships and culture?

Racism

In July, 2016, I wrote this post about racism and listening for peace.  I’m glad to have documented my thoughts and experiences over the years.  Rereading it now, I can see how I have both sustained and evolved my attitudes on addressing racism.  I still respect all points of view, at least partially.  But I am now more willing to take risks and engage in the hard conversations, to show that I have the capacity to address complexity, to hold tension between divergent and opposing perspectives.  I used to fear being misconstrued as a member of an antagonist monolith.  I am less afraid today to confront such assumptions that others may make of me (and I of them), to invite dialog, to withstand the discomfort of digging in and exchanging in earnest.  This includes with those whose ideology I oppose, as well as those with whom I align.

A principal value of inviting divergent dialog, like the 360 evaluation, is to reveal my Blind Spots.  For instance, even as I think of myself as ‘not racist,’ what behaviors have I that actually are racist, or at least ignorant and complicit?  How can I be more anti-racist?  What can the mirror show me that I can act on and improve, to make a positive difference?

For more on the vital importance and dire need for more of this kind of engagement and self-reflection, read David French’s piece from this morning, “American Racism: We’ve Got So Very Far to Go.”

For an excellent example of how Blind Spots manifest publicly, and how this can instruct us, read John Pavlovitz’s excellent essay on how Drew Brees slammed straight into the mirror as blind as any of us.

We can all map out Johari Window panes for our racism and anti-racism, just like leadership strengths and weaknesses.  Then we can shut up and listen to our Black friends and colleagues, learn in earnest about how racism really is built into and manifests in every aspect of our national heritage and culture.  We can speak up and act when we witness racist thought, attitude, behavior, words, decisions, and policies.  Each of us, in small and still significant ways, can lighten the burden our Black peers carry—we can and should share the work of dismantling our oppressive and marginalizing, racist systems.

It all starts with awareness—the closer to 360 the better.

What Calls You?  How Will You Answer?

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What a long, strange, heartbreaking trip it’s been, and there is no end in sight.

As if a global pandemic and 100,000 lives lost in the US alone were not enough, the inescapable reality of systemic racism and police brutality is now on full display and we must engage.  Anyone paying attention is right and justified to feel fatigued, frustrated, and at the end of their rope.

Each of us experiences all of this from our own unique perspective, informed by our personal and ‘tribal’ experiences to this point.  And we also share a genuinely collective experience in many ways.  It is the ultimate human paradox, no?

In the end, I always come back to our universal need for meaningful connection–love, really–as the light that will show us the way through.

For me, two main questions arise that I feel are the most important to answer at this point in history and my own life:

  1. What am I learning about my own biases, prejudices, assumptions, and attitudes in this time?  Corollaries:  When do I notice those tendencies arise?  What is that about?  And how do they affect my words and actions, and thus all of my relationships?
  2. With this ever-emerging awareness, how can I commit to being a contribution?  How will I, in this time of severe personal and societal disruption and upheaval, help to connect and heal rather than to divide and destroy–what specific, concrete actions will I take?

Asians occupy a strange Middle Space of racial identity.  We are ‘white-adjacent’—we enjoy some privileges similar to whites in America.  We also suffer some prejudice—more so since the 2016 presidential election, and much more so since the COVID-19 pandemic.  It’s all so complex.  I think I knew before, but now it’s crystal clear: Asians have a unique role to play in dismantling systemic racism and supporting Black Lives.

This article on Amy Cooper, the white woman who called 911 to falsely report that Christian Cooper, a black man, was threatening her life, captured the challenge well:

“What the Amy Cooper situation reveals to me is what instances of racism in America always reveal: There’s a level of self-examination and self-awareness that white people are not doing that they must do. There’s something that white people, even the ones who believe that they hold no biases, that they wield no power, must admit to themselves and begin to unpack. They are complicit — and even participatory — in the system of white supremacy. Individual white people may not believe they are, but their ability to tap into that system is always within reach.”  (emphasis mine)

For the most part, I enjoy enough privilege to not worry about my safety or that of my husband or son when we go out in public (though I have lately).  But as the coronavirus has now reminded me, Asians really don’t have access to the system of privilege that white people do.  So, my work is to find those specific, concrete actions that will advance anti-racism, primarily that against black people.  Because Black Lives seem to matter the least right now, and none are free until all are.  We Asians have some reckoning of our own to do, because we as a group do participate in and contribute to anti-black culture.

So now I commit to learning more by following writers like Professor Ibram Kendi.  I will listen to and read the stories posted by my black colleagues on social media, such as this one and this one.  I will look for opportunities to ‘upstand’ when I witness racist behavior in public or online.  I can follow groups who walk the talk, like Asians4BlackLives.  And I can find other resources to engage and participate in, like the myriad ones listed on President Obama’s Anguish and Action page.

This inner work is difficult, slow, and profoundly uncomfortable.  But it must be done for the outer work to have meaning and efficacy.  I believe we can overcome systemic racism and oppression.  And as always, we must do it all together.