It’s a Bad Day, Uncle Groper

DSC_0013

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.

Hopey, Changey Hero Making

IVY Litt 11-8-17

NaBloPoMo 2017: Field Notes from a Life in Medicine, Day 8

Funny how I just wrote last night about connecting new dots to old dots.  It just happened again tonight!  A couple of weeks ago I responded to an online ad for an IVY Ideas Night with David Litt, author of Thanks Obama: My Hopey, Changey White House Years, entitled, “How to Inspire, Persuade, and Entertain.”  Litt was a senior speechwriter for President Obama, so I thought I could learn new tips for presentations, and feel a little closer to the president whom I miss so much.

I’ve done public speaking since eighth grade, when our speech teacher first taught us abdominal breathing and I discovered the thrill of holding the attention of a room full of people with only my words.  I work at an academic medical center and I hold zero publications, but my CV documents over 10 years of professional presentations to various audiences.  I thought I was pretty good at this speaking thing.

Three years ago I came across this TED talk by Nancy Duarte, whose ‘secret structure’ of great presentations I have used since I subsequently read her book, Resonate.  Essentially, she recommends that we invite audiences on adventure stories, create active tension between what is and what could be, and most importantly, make the audience the hero.  I have done this better and worse since then, but I always recognize the framework when I see it.  Those familiar with this blog know that I am also a fan of Simon Sinek, whose central message is that we perform at our best when we are crystal clear about our Why.  “People don’t buy what you do, they buy Why you do it,” he says.  Barack Obama employs both authors’ principles with eloquence and finesse, which I noticed reading We Are The Change We Seek, a collection of his speeches as president.  The best speeches delivered in this construction create audiences who are inspired, motivated, and empowered to hail a meaningful call to action.

Obama is could be core values

That’s basically what David Litt conveyed tonight.  When asked what advice he was given that served him best, he said, “Imagine someone in your audience will tell their friend tomorrow about your talk.  What is the one thing you want them to say about it?”  What is the Why of your talk?  Even though he no longer writes speeches for the most powerful person in the world, he expressed a desire to continue inspiring, empowering, and promoting personal agency in all whom his work touches. Make each and every audience member their own hero.

It turns out, however, that this approach applies to much more than public speaking.  On my 50 hour, 500 mile, aspen-pursuing weekend in Colorado last month, I described to my dear friend my favorite moments at work.  At the end of a patient’s day-long physical, after I have spent 90 minutes listening to their stories of weight gain and loss, work transitions and complex family dynamics, and reviewing their biometrics and blood test results, I meet with them for an additional 30 minutes to debrief.  This is when I present an integrated action plan compiled by the nutritionist, exercise physiologist, and myself.  It is a bulleted summary of our conversations throughout the day, centered on the patient’s core values and self-determined short and long term health goals, and crafted with their full participation.  I get to reflect back to my patients all that I see them doing well, and shine light on areas for potential improvement.  It’s an opportunity to explore the possible—to Aim High, Aim Higher, as the United States Air Force exhorts.  I often present the plan with phrases like, “Strong work!” “You’ got this,” and “Can’t wait to see what the coming year brings!”  My friend turned to me as we wound through autumn gold in the Rocky Mountains, a bit tearfully, and said, “You make them the hero of their own story.”  Yeah, I do, I thought, and I got a little teary, too.

Words are powerful.  They are our primary tool for relating to each other, for making another person feel seen, heard, understood, accepted, and loved.  You don’t have to be a public speaker or a presidential speechwriter to make a positive difference with your words.  At work, in your family, with your friends, with people on the street and in the elevator—what is the one thing you want someone to remember from their encounter with you?

Eat What You Kill

IMG_6023

NaBloPoMo 2017: Field Notes from a Life in Medicine

Sounds like a mantra from a survival reality show, right?  Akin to “Eat or be Eaten,” “Kill or Be Killed.”  It’s also a common reference to the prevailing business model in our American scarcity-minded, competition-driven, fee-for-service healthcare culture.  How ironic, the application of these words to this profession.  It was explained to me essentially as, “Every man for himself, and you’re a minion.  You are expected to be ‘productive’ in this business to justify your compensation and contribute to the bottom line.  We measure productivity by number of patients seen and accompanying collections.  Pull your own weight or there will be consequences.”

Of course, from a capitalist business standpoint, this makes sense.  I provide a service that others require.  I should offer it widely, accommodate customer expectations and demands, expand my suite of offerings early and often, and charge for everything.  The more I can get customers to consume and pay, the better off my business.  I have a fundamental problem with this approach when the practice of medicine focuses on business first and patient care second.  Nobody admits to this attitude, of course it’s about patients first, everybody says.  Then my colleague makes a suggestion for patient care improvement, or I express concern about conveyor belt medicine burning doctors out.  Inevitably, the primary response from leadership is something along the lines of ‘that costs too much,’ and ‘that’s the only way to keep the lights on.’  I understand the math.  I despise the premise.

Medicine and healthcare delivery should always transcend the detached, transactional, and ruthless nature of the free market.  Chris Ladd, a conservative thinker and writer, describes this idea eloquently here.  It occurred to me today, replying to Stacey Holley’s comment on my post about spending time with patients, that even those who profit from our flawed American system are also terminally distressed by it.  Insurers, hospitals, pharmaceutical companies and their executives live in a constant state of fight-or-flight defensive posturing, fearing for their livelihoods in market share, revenue, solvency, and survival.  How tragically ironic.

Personally, I have difficulty envisioning a single-payer, government run healthcare program as the primary delivery system in the United States.  Our culture is simply far too individualistic, too fundamentally ingrained with ‘every man for himself.’  However, I think we can still work with the concept of universal healthcare, wherein all people have access to basic preventive and catastrophic care, regardless of income or status, without risk of bankruptcy.  A strong argument can be made that the only entity who could or should be truly invested in the health and well-being of all of us, throughout our lifespan, is our government, particularly in the realms of prevention and health maintenance.  We just need to loosen our societal grip on ‘that’s just how it works,’ and ‘I need to get mine,’ and allow ourselves to be led more by our collaborative, altruistic, and humanitarian leanings.  In my experience, diverse groups of intelligent and energetic people, working toward ambitious and aspirational goals, generate synergy.  This kind of cooperation fosters passion, joy, inspired creativity,  and magnificent innovation.  Who knows what novel solutions we may invent, if we only put down our spears and work together?  And isn’t that the hallmark of American ingenuity?

Medicine and health should be a heartening, collaborative, communal effort wherein we all do our best to help ourselves and each other reach our highest potential.  We are better than our current system, in which truly everybody suffers more than necessary.  I refuse to accept ‘Eat What You Kill’ as any kind of descriptor for my work or that of my colleagues.  We can do better, imagine and create more for ourselves and one another, than this primitive notion.  I know there’s a healthier mantra inside me somewhere…

What can you think of?

Applying the Wisdom of Atticus Finch

Atticus_and_Tom_Robinson_in_court

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view—until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”

–Atticus Finch

To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee

 

How do you practice and achieve empathy?  How do you notice others doing it?

It’s been on my mind a lot these last two weeks.  Current American politics resembles an interminable abscess, oozing ever more copious and putrid gobs of pus, from ever more unforeseen tracts of deep, diseased tissue.  How can we find any Healing Connection in the midst of all this?

Here’s my answer:  Role play and storytelling.

Role Playing Game Males Lego Duplo Play Build

 

Role Play for the Good

I used to hate role play, and now I jump at any chance to try it!  It all changed through a 7 week teaching workshop I did during my chief resident year, and I am forever grateful for the experience.  Now I regularly use role play to teach motivational interviewing, or MI, to medical students and residents.  Put simply, MI is a counseling technique that focuses on patient autonomy, and aims to reinforce intrinsic motivation for change.  My teaching method has evolved over time, due to my own unexpected experience of ‘climbing into the skin’ of others.

In the beginning I used to play the patient, letting students take turns practicing their MI skills on me.  After a couple of sessions I realized that even though I was pretending, I really felt like the students were earnestly trying to help me change my health habits, or making me feel bad about myself, depending on their proficiency.  So to give them the benefit of this perspective, I had them take turns playing both patient and physician.  The feedback revealed a richer, more insightful experience for all.

In 2015 I attended the Active Lives conference, where my technique was further enlightened.  I got to role play four times with a partner: first as patient, then physician, doing it the ‘wrong’ way (directive, authoritative, confrontational), and again in both roles doing it the ‘right’ way (collaborative, empathetic, nonjudgmental).  I felt the immediate contrast of the four roles emotionally and viscerally.  When all I heard from the doctor was, “Yes, I know you’re busy, but you have to find time to exercise,” and “Why don’t you do this…” and, “You should… You need to… If you don’t, then…” I felt absolutely no impetus to take any of this advice.  But questions like, “How important is it to you to…  How confident are you to… What would it take…what would need to happen in order for you to…” and, “What would life be like if…” invited me to explore possibilities, helped me to imagine and create my own future.  As an authoritative physician, I felt frustrated at my patient’s resistance to my evidence-based and well-intentioned advice.  By contrast, as a collaborative doctor, I feel freed to embark on an improvisational Yes, And adventure to reveal each patient’s personal path to healthier habits.  Now I offer my students the opportunity to experience all four roles.

I remembered this insight evolution last week when I came across a 1970 video of Jane Elliott’s classroom racism experiment.  She divides the class by eye color, asserts that blue-eyed children are better than brown-eyed children on one day, then reverses the premise the next.  While she makes privilege assignments that likely would not fly today, she also debriefs with the kids, helping them identify their assumptions, feelings, actions and reactions—much more authentically and directly than I think we are willing to do today.  She does it all without judging or shaming, pointing out biases and encouraging her students to examine them for themselves.  I admire her for pioneering this exercise, and I bet it affected her students in profound and lasting ways.

storytelling

 

The Importance of Story

Clearly, we cannot possibly depend on such academic practices to develop everyday empathy.  Luckily we now have infinitely easier access to one another’s stories than ever before, which is the next best thing.   Lately I feel a keen new appreciation of the importance of storytelling for conveying experience and stimulating mutual understanding.  Obligingly, the universe (read Facebook) has provided me with numerous testimonies of my fellow humans’ experiences and conditions, and this week they touch me even more acutely.  Here are some of them:

  • Former white supremacists talk about the importance of upholding others’ humanity, even as we denounce their beliefs.
  • A black writer recounts multiple instances of racism over her lifetime, inviting her white high school classmate to imagine and consider how they exemplify his white male privilege.
  • The head of neurosurgery at the Mayo Clinic in Florida tells his story of illegal, then legal immigration, and a subsequent life dream realized.
  • Neil DeGrasse Tyson shares stories of genitals on fire, educators’ responsibility to the electorate, pressure from his black classmate to contribute to ‘the black cause,’ realizing that he is doing just that, and why he wants to be buried instead of cremated (he has changed my mind, by the way).
  • David Duke’s godson credits the college friends who welcomed him despite his pedigree, with helping him defy and shed it.

 

What’s the Point?

The overarching goal here is to intentionally thwart the abstraction and dehumanization of people who are different from ourselves.  Stepping into another person’s shoes, ‘climbing into (their) skin,’ imagining how they feel, and actually feeling it—this is the best protection against bias, prejudice, and discrimination.  Empathy forms the sticky webs of connection that stymie the hymenoptera of hatred mid-flight, or catch us in the face and remind us to look where we’re going.  Where do we want our thoughts, words, actions, and relationships to take us?

I imagine a world of colorfully flawed humans, who acknowledge our biases openly and honestly; who recognize the risks that those biases carry; who accept ourselves, warts on soles and souls and all; who commit to a lifetime of extending that acceptance to one another; and who understand that it is our relationships, all of them, that kill us or save us.

So let’s play and tell—and feel and listen.  Really,  it’ll be good for all of us.

 

Only Love Can Win

Lily Pad Lake trail weather coming

Holy hell, what a week.  How are you feeling?  Most people I know express some combination of shock, resignation, rage, disbelief, hopelessness, gloom, and resentment.  I’m trying hard to practice Radical Acceptance.  It’s similar to the second arrow principle, in that at the very least, it lessens my own suffering from our collective circumstance.  But more than that, it allows me to focus more on what I will do, than seethe around my negative reactions.

I’m thinking of the Twitter account named Yes, You’re Racist.  Apparently the owner wants to identify the white supremacists who marched in Charlottesville, to publicly shame them and possibly get them fired from work. At least one person has lost his job based on a photo posted to the account.  What do you think about this?  I admit, my first reaction was positive.  Yes, call them out, make them accountable, I thought.  But then I wonder what good will this do?  Will the guy who got fired from the hot dog place suddenly think it was morally wrong to attend the march?  Or will he interpret his employer’s action as further proof that the liberal left conspires to restrict free speech and assembly, thereby deepening his animosity toward anyone who opposes his views from the left?  Will it open any space in his mind to consider why white supremacy is wrong, or help him acquire empathy or compassion toward any marginalized group?  Or won’t it just drive his racist expressions underground?  Doesn’t public shaming like this run the risk of re-closeting these people, so their grievances foment in the dark, only to be released again under pressure, in some act of overt violence?

I think about the fights between marchers and anti-protestors—between those who wish to incite violence, and those who succumb to the provocation.  To be clear, the Neo-Nazi, white supremacist marchers who descended on Charlottesville represent a vile and unacceptable set of ideas.  They are the villains.  And, fighting violence with violence is never a good solution.

So, we ask, what can we do?  How do we respond?  Maybe it’s because I’m on vacation this week, communing with nature in the mountains and watching the annual Perseid meteor shower from 10,000 feet, on a clear, literally stellar night, surrounded and awed by our millennia-old universe.  It keeps me from stalking Facebook quite so many hours a day, and gives good perspective.  I feel somehow more capable of saying, This is how things are.  It sucks.  It’s wrong.  And I can still make a difference.

In the end, I believe Only Love Can Win.  Blaming, shaming, belittling, and otherwise demeaning people for certain beliefs, actions, or associations—hating them—does not help.  What does help is offering compassion and empathy, and listening to understand.  I know I have said and written it many times, and I know many will argue that now is not the time to ‘get soft.’  But believe me, practicing love in the face of hate is anything but soft.  Let me share some resources that illustrate this, and that hold me up.  This is a very long post, and I hope you will stick with me ‘til the end.

Ai

Agape Love

Maria Popova, curator of the illuminating blog Brain Pickings, inspires me with her summary of Dr. Martin Luther King’s 1958 essay “An Experiment in Love.”  I refer to this article often since January 20.  Dr. King explores six tenets of nonviolent resistance (below).  It reminds me that while I vehemently oppose bigotry, racism, sexism, misogyny, xenophobia, and fascism, I can do it with a peaceful heart, full of love for humanity, and with faith that even my small contribution of said love can make a difference.  Here are the highlights of her piece, MLK’s words quoted:

  1. Nonviolent resistance is not passive cowardice. “For while the nonviolent resister is passive in the sense that he is not physically aggressive toward his opponent, his mind and his emotions are always active, constantly seeking to persuade his opponent that he is wrong. The method is passive physically but strongly active spiritually. It is not passive non-resistance to evil, it is active nonviolent resistance to evil.”
  2. The goal is connection. “Nonviolence … does not seek to defeat or humiliate the opponent, but to win his friendship and understanding. The nonviolent resister must often express his protest through noncooperation or boycotts, but he realizes that these are not ends themselves; they are merely means to awaken a sense of moral shame in the opponent. The end is redemption and reconciliation. The aftermath of nonviolence is the creation of the beloved community, while the aftermath of violence is tragic bitterness.”
  3. Separate the people from problem (as William Ury et al would say). “The attack is directed against forces of evil rather than against persons who happen to be doing the evil. It is the evil that the nonviolent resister seeks to defeat, not the persons victimized by the evil… [Regarding racial injustice:] We are out to defeat injustice and not white persons who may be unjust.”
  4. Be prepared to pay the cost. “The nonviolent resister is willing to accept violence if necessary, but never to inflict it. He does not seek to dodge jail.”
  5. Manage thyself. Do not allow yourself to descend to the depths of hate while you fight hate itself.  Cultivate love instead.  “The nonviolent resister not only refuses to shoot his opponent but he also refuses to hate him. At the center of nonviolence stands the principle of love…To retaliate in kind would do nothing but intensify the existence of hate in the universe. Along the way of life, someone must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate. This can only be done by projecting the ethic of love to the center of our lives.  This is Agape love…  Agape means understanding, redeeming good will for all men. It is an overflowing love which is purely spontaneous, unmotivated, groundless, and creative… Another basic point about agape is that it springs from the need of the other person… The Negro must love the white man, because the white man needs his love to remove his tensions, insecurities, and fears… Agape is not a weak, passive love. It is love in action… Agape is a willingness to go to any length to restore community… It is a willingness to forgive, not seven times, but seventy times seven to restore community.”
  6. Hope.  “Nonviolent resistance … is based on the conviction that the universe is on the side of justice. Consequently, the believer in nonviolence has deep faith in the future. This faith is another reason why the nonviolent resister can accept suffering without retaliation. For he knows that in his struggle for justice he has cosmic companionship.”

moths on poop

10 Ways to Fight Hate

One of the first pieces I read after the events on Saturday was this article from the Southern Poverty Law Center, listing ten ways to fight hate.  So while I carry that peaceful heart full of Agape love, these are the concrete things I can do right now (highlights quoted):

“The good news is, all over the country people are fighting hate, standing up to promote tolerance and inclusion. More often than not, when hate flares up, good people rise up against it — often in greater numbers and with stronger voices.”

  1. Act
  2. Join Forces
  3. Support the Victims
  4. Speak Up

“Do not debate hate group members in conflict-driven forums. Instead, speak up in ways that draw attention away from hate, toward unity.

“Goodness has a First Amendment right, too. We urge you to denounce hate groups and hate crimes and to spread the truth about hate’s threat to a pluralistic society. An informed and unified community is the best defense against hate.

“You can spread tolerance through social media and websites, church bulletins, door-to-door fliers, letters to the editor, and print advertisements. Hate shrivels under strong light. Beneath their neo-Nazi exteriors, hatemongers are cowards and are surprisingly subject to public pressure and ostracism.

  1. Educate Yourself

“Most hate crimes…are not committed by members of hate groups; the Southern Poverty Law Center estimates fewer than 5 percent. Many hate crimes are committed by young males acting alone or in small groups, often for thrills. While these perpetrators may act independently, they are sometimes influenced by the dehumanizing rhetoric and propaganda of hate groups.”

  1. Create An Alternative

“Do not attend a hate rally. As much as you might like to physically show your opposition to hate, confrontations serve only the perpetrators. They also burden law enforcement with protecting hatemongers from otherwise law-abiding citizens. If an event featuring a hate group, avowed separatist or extremist is coming to your college campus, hold a unity rally on a different part of campus. Invite campus clubs, sororities, fraternities and athletic organizations to support your efforts.

“Every act of hatred should be met with an act of love and unity. Many communities facing a hate group rally have held alternative events at the same hour, some distance away, emphasizing strength in community and diversity. They have included forums, parades, and unity fairs featuring speakers, food, music, exhibits, and entertainment. These events give people a safe outlet for the frustration and anger they want to vent. As a woman at a Spokane, Washington, human rights rally put it, “Being passive is something I don’t want to do. I need to make some kind of commitment to human rights.”

  1. Pressure Leaders

Form relationships with community leaders before a hate incident occurs.

Encourage leaders to name the problem.

Push leaders when they show bias or fail to act. [And do it respectfully—ad hominem never helps.]

  1. Stay Engaged
  2. Teach Acceptance

“Bias is learned in childhood. By age 3, children can be aware of racial differences and may have the perception that ‘white’ is desirable. By age 12, they can hold stereotypes about ethnic, racial, and religious groups, or LGBT people. Because stereotypes underlie hate, and because almost half of all hate crimes are committed by young men under 20, tolerance education is critical.”

  1. Dig Deeper

“Look inside yourself for biases and stereotypes.

“We all grow up with prejudices. Acknowledging them — and working through them — can be a scary and difficult process. It’s also one of the most important steps toward breaking down the walls of silence that allow intolerance to grow. Luckily, we all possess the power to overcome our ignorance and fear, and to influence our children, peers, and communities.”

VICE screenshot

Breathe Deep, Stay on the Path, and Engage

How would you confront a white supremacist in person, face to face?  Would you share a meal with him/her?  I saw this video clip on Facebook, of a young Chinese-American man, Eddie Huang, sitting down to dinner with Jared Taylor, an older, white nationalist man, and founder of American Renaissance, to discuss Taylor’s perspective.  The American Renaissance site espouses genetic differences in intelligence and the propensity to commit crimes between races, among other things.  Taylor states that historically, Europeans have “killed more people per capita” than any other group, and attributes this to them being “more technologically advanced.”  He voted for 45 because his policies would “slow the dispossession of whites in America.”  He says he wants to keep whites a majority in the United States, or else they “no longer control our own destiny.”

I imagined myself in Eddie’s shoes, and I could not fathom how I could stomach this conversation while eating.  Actually I think he stops, while Taylor continues to eat—Chinese food.  I don’t know anything about Eddie Huang other than what I see in this video, and I admire him.  He sits down and engages respectfully, thoughtfully, and firmly, with a person who basically thinks he does not deserve to be an American.  Could you do that?  I’m not sure I could.  And what would the world be like if we all trained to do exactly this?

Thank you for reading to the end.  My point here is that we can oppose and resist more effectively than with rage, shame, and violence.  I know I won’t make everybody put down their clubs and fists with my small words, but this is where I stand, and I commit to speaking my stance as much and as loudly as possible.  I pledge to do my best always to profess what I am for, more than what I am against.  I commit to a practice of Agape love, Radical Acceptance, Mindfulness, and Peaceful, Respectful Activism.  I would love your company on this journey.

 

Resistors In Series

Estes 2011

As nerd stuff goes, biology has always been more my speed than physics.  When my group in AP bio got to dissect a fresh frozen elk heart instead of a preserved sheep heart, I was positively overjoyed.  I remember so clearly the size (almost as big as my head) and weight of it, the texture of the muscle.  I can still see the valves, the heartstrings, and coagulated blood in the right and left atria.  So it kind of surprised me when I thought of a physics metaphor for our politics today.  I, the daughter of a PhD in applied mechanics, earned the lowest grade of my college career in first quarter physics.

Like many science nerd adolescents of the 80’s, I looked forward to new episodes of “MacGyver” every week.  The handsome, mullet-sporting Richard Dean Anderson always jerry-rigged his way out of life-threatening situations using everyday chemistry and such.  How fun that my kids can now enjoy the same drama with the CBS “MacGyver” reboot, starring Lucas Till.  We bond over TV, my kids and I.

macgyver white board

In the “Chisel” episode, Mac and his team find themselves barricaded inside a US Embassy, under attack by terrorists.  On a white board, he calculates how many inches of paper to place in front of the windows to stop incoming machine gun bullets—it’s 8 in this case.  [As an aside, the Mythbusters showed that paper is a plausible form of body armor.]  This got me thinking: one sheet of paper, so thin and flimsy, is easily shredded.  But layered in redundance, it can stop a barrage of deadly bullets.  It feels a lot like our national political activism since last November.

Women, scientists, environmentalists, educators, people of color, the LGBTQ community, Native Americans, writers, actors, physicians, patients, religious groups, law enforcement, legislators, and the press—We have all found our legs and our voices; we have stood and proclaimed not only our opposition to 45, but our commitment to our core values of inclusion, equality, respect for the planet, and respect for one another.  I submit that we are resistors in series.

resistors in seriesYou may recall from physics class that when resistors are placed end to end in an electrical circuit, their total resistance is the sum of their individual impedance units.  As the current passes through one resistor, it encounters the next one, and the next, one after another, slowing its progress.  I like to see today’s activist groups in this way, each contributing several layers to the dense, thick paper barricade at the windows of democracy as we know it, defending it against attack.  And the more we can stand united, supporting one another, the stronger we will be.  Could our resistance even be exponential, rather than simply additive?

Tyrants and authoritarians divide to conquer–they like resistors in parallel, where the total impedance is actually a fraction of each individual unit’s resistance.  By pitting each group against every other, a despot can trample them each/all with ease, and they might never see it coming—the same voltage directed across multiple, isolated resistors transforms them into conductors of the oppressor’s will.resistors in parallel

Perhaps this was our orientation prior to the last election.  We each had our pet causes, for which we felt varying degrees of personal activism.  We saw ourselves as detached, benignly unconnected.  But as we have witnessed a progressive threat marching against everything that we care about, a shared, collective threat, a new current has sparked.  Perhaps this mutual unease has reorganized us to connect in succession, to close ranks.

I was reminded of this idea when I read this piece by Charles M. Blow in the New York Times.  He posits that “America regularly experiences bouts of regression, but fortunately, it is in those regressive periods that some of our greatest movements and greatest voices… found their footing.”  Then I came across another article from The Atlantic, suggesting that even our legislators may be reorienting themselves into more serial, additive connectedness:

In hindsight, the Democrats’ decision to not allow partisanship to subsume collegiality or compassion, to cheer McCain along with their Republican colleagues, to embrace a friend even as he cast a decisive vote to move forward with a bill they despised, no longer seems naive. “I hope we can again rely on humility, on our need to cooperate, on our dependence on each other to learn how to trust each other again and by so doing better serve the people who elected us,” McCain had said in his speech.  

Had Democrats met that vote by attacking McCain, he might not have voted no [on the Senate’s ‘skinny repeal’ of the Affordable Care Act] last night. He might not have been so immune to the entreaties of his colleagues. He might not have resisted the arm-twisting of the president who never spent a day in public service before winning an election, who mocked him so cruelly two years ago. He might have decided against casting a vote to derail his own party’s seven-year crusade to dismantle the Affordable Care Act, a goal he still endorses.

I know my analogy vastly oversimplifies our political landscape.  Still, it comforts me.  I feel particularly focused on healthcare today, and I like to think that even if healthcare is not someone else’s chief concern, she will stand up with me when our healthcare system is under attack, just like I will rise with her in defense of our natural treasures, etc.  We stand, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, to resist and defend.  This vision of unity and cohesion is my hope and aspiration, not just now, but for generations to come.

Support for the Inner Work

546505_3541050719516_553644737_n

Things were a little crazy this week.  I have an idea for a post and still have not sat down to write it out.  But I want to share something that came out on my Facebook page (of course) tonight.  One of the reasons I love writing is that insights pop out when you least expect them.  Writing exchanged with others is even better, because those insights are then shared, and their meaning amplifies.

I posted this article from the Washington Post yesterday: “Nearly half of liberals don’t even like to be around Trump supporters.”  It’s a summary of a recent Pew Research Center survey, which finds that 47% of liberal Democrats “say that if a friend supported Trump, it would actually put a strain on their friendship.”  It posits, among other things, that liberals are less tolerant of dissenting ideas because they are clustered in urban areas, lending to louder echo chambers.  By contrast, only 13% of Republicans answered that “a friend’s support of Hillary Clinton would strain their friendship.”

From the survey report:…Nearly nine months after the election, most people (59%) say it is ‘stressful and frustrating’ to talk about politics with people who have a different opinion of Trump than they do; just 35% find such conversations ‘interesting and informative.'”

I consider myself a socially heavily left-leaning, fiscally centrist Independent, but I identify more with liberals than conservatives, by a large margin.  This article made me sad, that my ‘tribe’ shows itself to be much more intolerant and judgmental than I would like.

I posted this comment along with the article:

Ooohh, so much data here, so much potential for blame, and also for self-exploration. Humbling, no question.
“Be extra kind with your comments on this one please, friends. No need to reopen barely scabbed wounds. I mean for my page to be a safe place for all of us to engage. We are all in it together, and the sooner we *all* figure out how to deal with 45 and one another, the better we will all be.
“Also, I’m bummed that Asians are always left out of the data set.”

I got some comments from my liberal friends about how hard it is to talk to Trump supporters, so much so that they avoid talking politics with those friends altogether.  But one friend exemplified my aspiration for all of us.  She wrote:

“… I recently had dinner with a very close friend who voted for Trump. Typically I think I’m a really good listener, listening with curiosity and a desire to raise the conversation and all involved to a higher level. However, when our conversation turned to politics I found myself cutting her off, getting defensive and bordering on being critical of her. I was horrified by my own behavior. I think this article hits on it – the support or opposition of Trump feels like less of a political stance and more of a statement of a person’s values and morals. I don’t think that’s necessarily true- I think a large population of Trump voters (my friend included) were actually voting against Washington more than for Trump. While I can’t get behind Trump I can get behind a vote to change the system. I wonder what might happen if more of us looked for what we can stand behind together?! Thank you for continuing to be a voice for this movement!”

Exactly!  Immediately I felt connected to my friend in a higher calling, and a shared struggle.  I replied:

“(My dear friend), I derive so much of my strength and curiosity from you. How many of us can own up publicly about our own flaws and failures, like you did here? And I know you know I use the word failure in the most empathetic and loving, mutually understanding way. I think that is the first step–complete humility and openness to our own imperfection. It’s so fucking hard. And I’m so lucky to have friends like you, (these four other dear friends), and others… I know now, better late than never, that we cannot do this work without unwaveringly reliable support, no matter how motivated we are.  And for those of us who are already well-supported, I think it’s our responsibility to look outward and support others. You never know when or where someone may be standing on the edge of openness, and when your small gesture of encouragement may nudge them on. Thank you for your loving support, my soul sister!”

It really is true, we cannot dig deep and bring out our best selves by ourselves.  We are meant to hold one another up and accountable, to bring out the best in each other.  It breaks my heart when I interview patients, and learn how sparse and frail their emotional support networks are.  There is no stereotype for this scenario, it can happen to the best of us.  Past experiences, circumstances, timing, life events—they can all combine to undermine our relationships, thereby weakening our capacity for self-awareness and exploration.  So we fall back on default modes of defensiveness, righteousness, denial, and blame.  Whether it’s quitting smoking, sticking to a healthy eating plan, or elevating our political discourse, we are truly stronger together.

I share this tonight because I so admire my friend for owning her whole self.  I am so grateful to her for sharing her imperfections and vulnerability with humility and hopefulness.  She gives me strength to keep going, despite how fucking hard it is.  And I hope I can do the same for many, many others.