On Personal Activism

Strong back, soft front.
Am I doing enough?
Am I enough?

Once again I find myself alarmed and agitated, wondering how we got here. One week in and it feels exponentially worse than last time. Some would argue that all politicians are equally nefarious and selfish, equally devoid of character. I suppose that is possible, but I just don’t think so. Jimmy Carter, George HW Bush, and Barack Obama stand out to me as role models, men of character and integrity. Not so the person in office now.

Executive acts this past week have served what I believe to be their intended purpose, stoking unrest and outrage, churning anxiety, division, alienation, and escalating susceptibility to fear and rage-based behavior, inclulding violence. I believe some of the most sweeping acts will be successfully challenged and modified, if not stalled, but at what cost to the system? What of the workers who suddenly lost their jobs? What of the scientific and medical researchers whose funding may not exist anymore, and the patients whose very survival or mortality may hang on that funding? And all while real and present problems loom at impasse after impasse because our elected officials refuse to negotiate like mature, reasonable adults? How did we get here? How did we choose these people to ‘lead’ us? End rant.

How will our daily lives feel the impact of this administration? I wonder how racism, misogyny, and dehumanization will cascade again en masse from the precedents that this POTUS sets? He validates, encourages, and exemplifies the most derisive of human behavior and relationship.
How did we get here?

Once again I find myself asking, “What can I do, I’m just one person?” Somehow this week, treating people all along the political spectrum with respect, asking open and honest questions, holding the benefit of the doubt, resisting outrage in favor of calm and curious exploration of diverse perspectives, and withholding judgment just don’t feel like enough. And yet there is so much to advocate for, so much to resist, so much happening every day, it’s overwhelming. Where would I even start? And I think that’s the point, right? Submission by way of learned helplessness.

I had the good fortune of two incredibly insightful and enlightening conversations this weekend. I was invited to articulate my Why, my purpose, and explore my Whats. I talk to people. I write. My favorite and most effective forum is one on one, and I also do well speaking to large, live, interactive audiences. I am an integrator of ideas, an innate mediator, a ‘boundary spanner.’ Normally that feels exceptional and more than enough, I realize as I write this. But today it feels small, inconsequential, puny.
But maybe that is not the sensation to heed.

Connection across difference is exactly what we need right now, all of us, elected leaders and all. We have lost this capacity and skill at a collective level, it seems. So if I can retain it, then it’s actually a big deal. If I can exemplify and amplify it, be the connection and do it every chance I get (which is any given human encounter), then I am making a difference. Me, one of seven billion.

What if I could modify, even a little, the mindset and behavior of just two people in their encounters with people who disagree? And each of them two more? What if each of my Braver Angels friends could do the same? What if even a fraction of Mónica Guzmán‘s readers also had this impact? That’s exponential growth–a movement–of connection across difference.

Ok I feel better now. DIY pep talk via blogging! I can keep doing what I’m doing. Talking, writing, Healing Through Connection is my domain, literally and figuratively. Abortion, equity work, gender policy, healthcare, and intellectual freedom are all issues I care deeply about. I can find ways to support initiatives and leaders in those spaces ad hoc. But my own work, my personal activism, lies principally in person to person relationship, which applies in all other domains more than most people realize. I can raise that awareness and help folks acquire and hone those intra- and interpersonal skills that may, one day, steer us toward electing legislators who also practice successfully. Meanwhile, we could heal friendships and family ties wounded by political divergence. How hopeful.

So, dear reader, what is your brand of personal activism?

Holding the Work

I procrastinate writing this post. I worry how it will be received. I may anger some, offend others, and invite unpleasant backlash. But now that I write it out, as if I said it out loud, that fear abates. How fascinating–naming a fear helps dissipate it. That’s an important practice for the work we hold ahead.

“Question your own fears.” —Monica Guzman, Braver Angels, A Braver Way

Monica Guzman is my hero. Watch the video of her talking about how our fears of what’s in other people’s hearts harms and divides us. Listen and feel her passion, her struggle to stay compassionate to all people, and her distress at how people she cares for now suffer from Trump being elected. Listen to her courage in vulnerability, expressing hope that despite the deep divisions all around, we can still connect across our differences and not destroy ourselves. And know that she has a point of view–she takes a political side. She just doesn’t approach opponents as adversaries.

Monica inspires me to recommit to the work of bridging our political divides, real and perceived. I understand the election was only a few days ago and some people’s pain and distress are still raw. I know some don’t care or want to bridge anything, at least not right now. That’s okay; this post may not be for you. But I’m ready. I hear the call and I’m answering now.

From Instagram

I had a lovely conversation today with a man I’ve known for some years. Our relationship is fun, trusting, and honest. He asked me how I am with the election and I told him I’m very much not okay. He felt great about it. We each described why we feel our own ways, listening for each other’s personal experiences and impressions of the candidates, the parties, and the people around us. I live on the south side of Chicago; he in northwest Indiana. I’m in medicine; he’s in construction. I’m a 51 year-old East Asian woman; he’s a 67 year-old white man. Our life experiences and world views diverge widely. We also have no problems connecting as humans. We both lamented how so few people we know can conduct political discourse calmly and respectfully. We agreed on multiple social issues. Our conversation prompted me to seek data about maternal mortality since Roe v. Wade was overturned. I shared with him and we both learned. It was a meaningful and satisfying conversation, and we agreed to continue. I don’t intend or expect to change his political leanings. I want to understand him, and I want him to understand me. I want us to deepen our relationship, practice healthy political discourse, and bring what we gain from each other back to our own circles. This is how I will make a positive difference in our political culture and landscape.

All people who voted for the other candidate are not evil, or sheep, or whatever name we want to call them. I know how good it feels to say they are (see Brené Brown quote below), and it absolutely does not make anything better. We each get to choose how much contact we want with people who are different from us. Often they cannot be avoided, and then we still get to choose how we interact. We each have power to influence and impact any relationship we touch. Will we be connectors or dividers?

I observe that my fellow progressives are often the ones actively dividing. Cancel culture rages on the left, rife with judgment in minimal interaction, overgeneralization and oversimplification based on assumption and association. I see value in calling out overtly racist and misogynist attitudes and behavior, but public shaming does little to educate, enlighten, or alter anyone’s mind. It just drives their biases underground, only to resurface later. It alienates, inflames, and perpetuates conflict. Judging and throwing away a whole human being based on one fact about them, no matter what that fact is, feels antithetical to a progressive, inclusive ethos to me. And, it is a totally understandable human response to severe moral distress. For those of us committed to bridging, we must learn, practice, and train in self-awareness, self-regulation, and effective communication to mitigate that relationally counterproductive response. We must ground ourselves in openness, curiosity, humility, generosity, empathy, and kindness. These are not mutually exclusive to holding fast to our values, convictions, and causes.

I have many days yet this month to delve into particular skills. For now I can simply sit with a renewed commitment to non-adversarial change agency. This is the Work. I have learned in safe spaces, with people who will not throw me away or belittle me for my beliefs. It’s easy when it’s easy, and it’s how I show up when it’s hard that counts. But I can’t show up competent when it’s hard unless I have practiced–done the drills, entrained the muscle memory, prepared for the harder challenges. So I embrace the test of encounters during the next administration. This is what I have trained for. So I say bring it, I can do this relational stuff better and better, and I can lead by example like Monica Guzman. I still have a lot to learn, and as we say in medicine, see one, do one, teach one–and I’d add–repeat, ad infinitum.

If you’ve read this far and you’re neither offended nor ready, thank you for holding your own space. We can each/all only do what we can, when we can, and how we can.
I Hold the Work for Us to bridge our differences for all our benefit, whatever, whenever, and however we can each make our contribution.

There is hope.

From Facebook

Holding Gentleness

“…A kinder, gentler nation.” –George HW Bush

President Bush the First came to my high school during his campaign for a second term in 1991. I got to speak on behalf of Students Against Driving Drunk (SADD–which I just learned is now Students Against Destructive Decisions) and sit next to him on stage. Decades later my classmate would tell me that the photo of that event which hung in the main office is actually a Getty Image. I’m convinced they put me in that chair so people could get a good view of him–he was at least a foot taller than me. He was also such a decent man. I so admired him, and Barbara, too–I read her memoir in college. I know there are many decent, kind, and gentle people all around. That is what I hold tonight, no matter what anybody says.

Clouds and rain glowered over Chicago today, though temps were still very mild for November. Other than the hour when I PR’d my bench press (6 reps, 80#, all me!) at Ethos this morning, my energy has felt dim and slow. These last couple days I wonder if I’m more anxious about the election than I realized. Huh. Good opportunity to practice some body scan meditation and breath work. As I write this, the usual states have shown their usual colors. I will post this and go to bed, and deal with it all tomorrow.

So how can we all cope with things in the morning and beyond?

Gently is the best word I can muster tonight.

My conservative friend in Alabama went to work the day after the election in 2016 [note: I have corrected this post. The prior version stated he voted for Trump in 2016; he did not]. He did not gloat. His colleague arrived in tears and he held her in a hug. I hope this kind of interaction happens all over the country, tomorrow and onward. Hugs. Gentleness in both triumph and grief. I hope we’ll eventually be able to say both, “See, it’s not as bad as some of us thought it would be,” and also, “Yeah, it’s not the utopia that some of us had assumed.” Because things are rarely all bad or all good like we imagine or expect. What we must do, however, is to admit these things to one another, honestly and humbly. And it’s only safe to do this if we are gentle with ourselves and others, both in person and in rhetoric.

Our threshholds for distress and self-care practices vary. Let us be patient with ourselves and one another. Some will withdraw and cocoon, others will need tighter, brighter connections and out loud processing. Yet more of us will react in new, unfamiliar ways. We will all benefit from one another’s soft words and touch, our respective strengths and generosity in complementary presentation. This is how we save ourselves from political and interpersonal toxicity.

A kinder, gentler world, indeed.
The more we believe it’s possible, the more we will act to make it so.

I Hold Gentleness for Us all, as we approach our shared future. Whatever it is, we will all suffer less if we can be more gentle with ourselves and our fellow humans.

Take a look at the Instagram panels below. Let us consider them for ourselves and in our like-minded groups. How can we set down the adversarial spikes toward others and take up the tools to rebuild our connections? Gently, gently, ever gently.

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