Sending a wish to you and your community for the holidays you celebrate, the break you may be enjoying as 2016 concludes, and the new year.
Sending a wish to you and your community for the holidays you celebrate, the break you may be enjoying as 2016 concludes, and the new year.
I heard this interview yesterday on The Takeaway and want to share it forward. Human being, rapper, Syrian refugee and current German resident Basel Marshall articulates clearly one of the secondary but still potent reasons why so many have been killed in Aleppo:
As you can see, Paris or Charlie Hebdo or Brussels, things happened [there], and the whole world got crazy about it. I mean why? We’re not humans? It’s only because we’re Syrians it’s OK that we die? But for those people, no, we have to support them and we have to pray for Paris? We do, yeah, I was sad — I was very sad about what happened. But we’re also humans and we also deserve some support.
It makes me feel like the world is looking at us like we’re second quality humans. I have this anger against anyone who could help and didn’t do anything, and it’s against anyone who was part of this. Anyone who accepted this killing. Anyone who gave the green-light to Bashar al-Assad to kill those people.
We’re also human. We also have families. We also have feelings. We also get afraid when our houses get bombed. We also get afraid when we see our neighbors in another city get choked to death by chemical weapons.
With a cease-fire and evacuations currently underway in Aleppo, we can easily fall into a sense of “everything’s fine now” and a deeper indifference about the fragility of the current state of affairs and the recovery (potentially including more injury and death). And while it’s sometimes overwhelming to consider what’s really happening in the world to real human beings, I agree with Marshall: what helps is to do what we can do. Doing nothing, ignoring real pain and suffering, and practicing not seeing people as people is one option. For his thoughts on other options, please listen to his interview.
For more information about what’s happening on the ground in Syria, here’s a link to the White Helmets.
A quick request to spread the word about a DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) renewal workshop at Lick-Wilmerding High School, 755 Ocean Ave. in San Francisco on Tuesday, December 6, 2016. No appointments needed, and more info in available in:
- English (daca_renewal_workshop_12-06-16_english)
- Chinese (daca_renewal_workshop_12-06-16_chinese)
- Spanish (daca_renewal_workshop_12-06-16_spanish)
On June 15, 2012, the Secretary of Homeland Security announced that certain people who came to the United States as children and meet several guidelines may request consideration of deferred action for a period of two years, subject to renewal. They are also eligible for work authorization. Deferred action is a use of prosecutorial discretion to defer removal action against an individual for a certain period of time. Deferred action does not provide lawful status.
Please visit US Citizenship and Immigration Services for more information about renewing your DACA (including who is eligible and when to renew).
- Thanks to LWHS for organizing this workshop.
For me, it started with Ted Koppel’s book Lights Out. That’s when the idea of being prepared shifted for me from the pejorative stereotype of conspiracy theorists stocking up on guns, water, ammo, food, and more weapons (see how that stereotype works?) to a reasonable responsibility that anyone should assume, especially if someone else’s well-being depends on you.
The question, of course, is: prepared for what?
Koppel advocates being prepared for our utilities infrastructure (water, electricity, internet…) to go down, either because of malicious, intentional attack or just the consequences of an aging system.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about being prepared for something else: being prepared for some of the what if’s that current events post-election suggest are not just things happening in other parts of the country or other neighborhoods. They are things happening right here in our own communities. I’m talking about people of color being told, “You’re gonna be deported.” I’m talking about women, LGBTTQQ people, Muslims and people of color being told, “Your time is up.” I’m talking about verbal and physical harassment inflicted by people in our communities upon others of us.
We need to be prepared for what to say or do when someone harasses someone else in our communities. Some of us need to be prepared for when someone harasses us (and many of us who can reasonably expect to be told to “go back home” or just “get out” have already, out of necessity, begun our own preparations for personal safety).
If we care about the diversity of our communities and the United States, we need to be prepared for when someone threatens that diversity and our values of inclusion. We can’t afford to be shocked and appalled into inaction. We owe it to ourselves and our communities to be reasonably prepared and able to stand up. I love this advice from UC Berkeley’s Greater Good Science Center in “Eight Ways to Stand Up to Hate“:
2. Be the first to speak up
Classic social psychology studies reveal that people typically look to those around them for cues on how to behave—and that they tend to trust those cues even when doing so leads them badly astray. In the Asch conformity experiment, for example, participants were shown a picture of a line and asked to state which of three other lines equaled it in length. When other people around them chose the wrong answer, the subjects often went along with the crowd’s flawed judgment.
But if you’re aware of how people’s conformist tendencies operate, you can try to harness them for good. In a variation on the Asch experiment, people were far less likely to follow the crowd’s lead when there was just one other person near them who chose the correct line lengths. When you speak out about injustices happening in front of you, you can help tip the social balance toward truth.
By taking such a stand, you can influence people on social media, too. NYU researchers reported this year that when people using a racist slur on Twitter were scolded by a highly followed user in their “in-group,” the offenders cut way back on their use of the slur.
3. Practice being conspicuous
To defend someone who’s being threatened, you have to be willing heed your own conscience above all else. But resisting social pressure takes serious guts, and it helps to do some trial runs to feel more at ease.
When he was teaching at Stanford, Zimbardo used to walk his students through an exercise he called “Be a Deviant for a Day”—which could mean, say, drawing a giant circle on their foreheads or wearing a pair of pink bunny slippers around campus. It’s a good way to learn what it feels like to go against the grain. “If you can practice when it’s safe,” says Australian educator Matt Langdon, founder of the Hero Construction Company, “you’re going to be more likely to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.”
In addition to honing your overall nonconformity game, it pays to rehearse for specific uncomfortable situations you’re likely to encounter. How are you going to react, for instance, if you see a passerby getting attacked in public—or if a friend makes a casual hateful comment at a dinner party? Psychologist Lynne Henderson’s “social fitness” research suggests that if you come up with a plan and practice it (perhaps in a role-play with a friend), you’ll be better prepared to put it into action when it’s most needed.
This Thanksgiving, I hope you and yours find much to be grateful for, and get better and better prepared to put your personal values of inclusion into everyday action.
I just want to repost today’s Perspective on KQED. Patricia Riestra speaks about “Obama’s legacy” for her. She tells us:
I became a U.S. citizen in 2007 and voted for President Obama. I admired his prudence and tolerance, his calm when others were issuing threats and screaming. I’ll miss his voice and eloquence, which seemed so reassuring. But mostly, The way he treats his wife and daughters gave me hope and helped restore my view of men.
Whatever our own personal experiences with misogyny, it’s part of our cultural experience and norm. We see plenty of examples of misogyny in its most brutal forms (sex trafficking, domestic assaults and sexual assaults–which are not solely perpetrated against women, but are still normatively inflicted upon and against women as a group), as well as its more socially acceptable iterations (referring to “Hillary” and “Trump,” the unchecked use of slang for women’s body parts to disparage men, and the perpetuation of social inequalities via the intention or guise of chivalry).
While I believe and hope that we’ve had presidents before who have treated their female family members well, I agree with Riestra that Obama has been particularly notable for how we refers to and appears to treat his wife and daughters–including getting out of their way when it’s not his place to stand in it, even as POTUS.
That, I believe, is part of his legacy for all of us.
In response to a school leader’s query about supporting the adults who are engaging in supportive conversations with their students post-election, I wanted to share a few resources in today’s post. Please note: I think these frameworks and reflections are potentially bipartisan and multipartisan–that is to say, regardless of whether you feel you “won” or “lost” in this Presidential election, it’s been and continues to be a politically, emotionally, socially, personally and morally turbulent time for many of us. I hope these are helpful.
I think it’s vital to understand what self-care is, not just as a catch-all buzzword, but as specific, intentional practices regarding political engagement in this inundating time. Self-care as a means to, rather than a destination, is critical in order to do our jobs, and redefine as necessary and helpful what our “job” is.
And here’s an essay “Five Habits to Heal the Heart of Democracy” from Parker Palmer framing our work as healing together. Applying this essay to politics right now means opening ourselves to what suffering, exclusion, disenfranchisement and inequity may be the undercurrent or tide carrying forward the beliefs, speech and actions of whomever we disagree with (and perhaps fear). Inclusion and equity are all or none propositions. We can’t justify inclusion over here for this group, at the exclusion over there for that group. This is the challenge, opportunity and real advancement of justice: what we do when we are hurting, and others are, too (including those who are empowered).
Finally (but not comprehensively by any means), the article “An analysis of Donald Trump’s election win and the prospects for his presidency.” I’m including what I actually wrote to the educational leader who asked me about resources to support faculty and staff as they support their students:
I may be going out on a limb here. Please feel free to tell me to step it back. But in my inbox with your email was a link to this article “An analysis of Donald Trump’s election win and the prospects for his presidency.”
Please click on it before continuing to read this email.
There was something cathartic about it for me. No need to be eloquent, rational. It’s just a page full of visceral response. Which made me laugh. Which opens a space for reflection: so now what? (from an emotionally different place). This is all to say, I might use this as a conversation opener, also later acknowledging this isn’t everyone’s perspective. But first we just exhale. Then we put our educator hats back on. If not this article, then perhaps there’s some other way to give permission for a primal scream?
Again, I don’t know if I’m way out of bounds sending this. But it seemed worth taking that risk.
A few more resources for educators, parents/guardians, youth… heck, for anyone who’s not just disappointed with “losing” this election, but emotionally, morally and socially anxious about what this election portends for the liberty and safety of all, not just some, people in the US.
- Today’s Science Friday episode on NPR: “The Cure For Election-Related Stress? Believe Your Political Adversaries Can Change” with Kelly McGonigal, psychologist and researcher at the Stanford Center for Compassion and Altruism. Not only is it inaccurate that people’s attitudes and values don’t change, it goes against what many of us claim to believe–namely, that we shouldn’t stereotype (i.e. hold inflexible, fixed ideas about) other people.
- “The Stories That Bind Us” an article from The New York Times in 2013, that cites research from the Drs. Duke, psychologists who have studied resiliency in kids. In brief, their research demonstrates that “[t]he more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned. The “Do You Know?” scale turned out to be the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness.” This turned out to be true with their original focus: children with learning disabilities, as well as their unexpected focus: children in the immediate wake of 9/11. (You can see a copy of the “Do You Know?” scale here.) My takeaways from the Duke’s research is that kids can better handle individual and collective stresses with knowledge of their people’s history and resilience. I take some latitude with the Dukes’ research and imagine that a child’s “people” includes concentric, overlapping circles of biological family, identity groups to which they belong (like religious or ethnic groups), and even nationality. It turns out that, given a context of love and support, knowledge of challenge, hardship and trauma may not be as harmful to our kids as ignorance of it. In other words, they’re not as fragile as we may imagine them to be, but as with other self-fulfilling prophecies, we can make them more fragile by treating them as if they are.
I am not by any means advocating that we unleash a torrent of unfiltered horror on kids. Rather, I’m trying to connect some dots: maybe the fixed ways we see “them” (in this case, those who don’t agree with us politically, or those who are terrorizing people of various minority identities right now–and if you’re like me, it’s hard to see the perpetrators of these violent words and actions in an open-minded way) is what makes it harder for us to talk to kids about conflict. If I can allow (or compel) myself to believe that someone who commits an act of racism, sexism or homophobia can grow and also act in anti-sexist, anti-homophobic and anti-racist ways, maybe I can talk about my fears, what happened and what we can do now with not just more performed confidence, but actual felt and believed confidence.
This may require asking myself why I may be choosing a narrative in which people are innately bigots and haters, over the truth that everyone can change. I think it’s scary to admit that there is no clear and hard line between evil them and good us: all of us can and do, in fact, do things that are homophobic, racist and sexist (if not through overt acts, then sometimes just through inaction, and other times through complicit, if subtle, permission). All of us can and do also act for social justice. And given the chance, we could do it more.