Compassion

As a self-described organizer and student leader for the last 7 years, I have learned that in almost every community, the wellness of the individuals involved is frequently taken for granted. We encourage our peers to put the movement, the politics, the community, issues, before themselves, to resist sleep, to become addicted to caffeine and stimulants in order to take on additional responsibilities and stressors at the expense of their mental and emotional stability, and at the expense of their relationships with others. While noticing these trends within organizations, I have also noticed that the groups who are able to function the most successfully make the happiness of the individuals involved central to the goal and meaning of the group.

Organizing in a college setting, for many, is a privilege that comes secondary to a job, a family, schoolwork, emotional needs of friends, romantic relationships, sleep, and self-care. Organizing should be driven by passion, by love, by solidarity, compassion, and hope. Organizing SHOULD NOT be driven by guilt, by wanting to be well-liked; should not be driven by a resume or a career plan. When individuals feel forced to spread themselves too thin based on the latter reasons, organizing becomes another job, another child, another stressor straining the emotional health of the individual. However, when we allow ourselves to act upon the outrage, passion, and love that propels us forward, there is the possibility for solid relationships, more equal power dynamics, a celebration of difference and conflict that can allow progress. Ultimately, to prevent burn out within our communities, organizing has to be something that we still WANT TO DO. It can’t be a chore that we begrudgingly carry out without understanding the true purpose of our actions. We must be able to view our responsibilities holistically, to celebrate our smallest accomplishments in relationship to the larger struggle, to be self-critical so as to not to lose focus, and to communicate with other organizers effectively.

Relationships between organizers, then, are essential to the quality of the group’s campaigns, tactics, and strategies. Are the organizers able to discuss differences in religion, race, sexual orientation, personal family issues and responsibilities, that color the acceptability of particular tactics, or are these differences ignored? How is difference approached—with a fear of difference, with cynical tokenism, or is there a genuine embracing of differences within and between identities, so that each person can feel comfortable, confident, and know that they will be listened to? These conversations can only be had if there is a foundation of trust between those in the group. If I know I am different, but cannot discuss and celebrate what makes me different, I will most likely feel alienated and, quite frankly, angry at others who I may want a sense of solidarity with.

Building healthy, trusting relationships is hard, no matter who you are, no matter how tangential or intertwined the relationship will be. In order to build trust, conflict is necessary, and in order to engage in conflict, trust is necessary. Each person has to trust the other that they will listen, that they will not spin the comments in a way other than intended, that their comments will not be used against them. In radical communities, though, these uncertain relationships are often the core of what keeps us going. For many of us, our families do not provide our need for healthy, trusting relationships; friends and lovers don’t understand our radicalism or passion, and we are often questioned by everyone else in the world to a point where we question our own sanity. We look to other organizers to provide emotional support, to teach us, to be accepted unconditionally, and to feel safe and protected. If these tenuous relationships are central to our ability to engage difference between organizers, these relationships can also add or detract to our passion for change. Sensitivity to others needs within the community, then, is essential to promote wellness and prevent burnout.

Within women’s communities especially, wellness can only happen when we trust each other enough to feel like we don’t have to prove ourselves. We can’t be afraid to say No. In building these relationships, we have to understand that the decline of invitations to events, speaking opportunities, additional responsibilities,  does not necessary reflect upon our commitment level, but rather upon our own confidence and trust level. If I need to prove myself to you, like you’re my professor, my boss, or my mom, that undermines our ability to operate functionally with each other as radicals. If I need to prove myself to you, the fun is gone, the drive is gone. I am organizing to impress rather than organizing in order to create and sustain fundamental changes within the microsystems of society that I enter. So all organizers must learn to accept another’s right to say No, I can’t do that. While I may or may not want to commit to another effort, another time commitment, another possibly lifechanging opportunity, I can’t. No individual entirely knows what another individual is going through, what an acceptable level of stress is for that person, what that person has been through that could act as a trigger. If another person sets a boundary, those boundaries should be accepted. And as in any human interaction, for one person to respect another person’s boundaries requires self-knowledge, self-respect, and awareness of how one’s actions affect another.

And when a boundary is set, I don’t owe you an explanation. No one deserves an explanation. So if you are told No, you CAN ask why, but you are not owed a justification. When I draw my boundaries—in sex, in patriarchy, racism, or homophobia in jokes, in responsibilities I am willing to take on-no one deserves an explanation. Sometimes I will provide one. Sometimes I will explain why I would prefer that you use a word other than gay or bitch, but often I won’t. Just because you want to know something doesn’t mean I owe you an explanation. As Audre Lorde writes in, “The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House”:

“Women of today are still being called up on to stretch across the gap of male ignorance and to educate men as to our existence and o ur needs. This is ano old and primary tool of all oppressors to keep the oppressed occupied with the master’s concerns. Now we hear that it is the task of women of Color to educate white women—in the face of tremendous resistance—as to our existence, or differences, or relative roles in a joint survival. This is a diversion of energies and a tragic repetition of racist patriarchal thought.”

 

 

BLANCA, y mi papa

I CRAWL

and

I CRAVE

The anger turned inward that you lead me to

You, acting like I’m a piece of shit

Like I can’t do anything right

Even the favors I do for you are turned against me

The sympathy I have is only returned with spite

I CRAWL, I CRAVE

Towards she who destroys my self-confidence

Belittles my existance

Laughs at my tears

Enjoys the conflict that leads me to them

I CRAWL, I CRAVE

Because revenge is not my strenth

Witty combacks impossible to formulate

My eyes burn with hatred but soon,

I CRAWL, I CRAVE

Relationships are normalized as dysfunctional.

At the floor, I slink along, hoping I will be given some fruit

Something fresh upon my lips

Rather tahn this bitter wine

I CRAWL, I CRAVE.

For that silver lining on our personality

Hoping we can be friends after all

Even though Arnold taught me some people won’t like you no matter how nice you are

I CRAWL, I CRAVE.

Dustless Black Pepper

I do look like you.

My eyebrows are formed in a similar shape, my smile, my grin, is not ashamed and its crooked teeth show themselves regularly,

just. like. yours.

We’ve both got glasses.

When we fight both of our pairs jump up and down on our face, playing hot potato, dancing on the angry contortions our faces create.

But we’re different, right?

Same race, different gender?

Same glare, different intent.

Same joy, same anger.

Same jokes, same insults.

Same frustrated endings to our own arguments, same hyper-rational intellectual defense mechanisms, and the same over-reactions and excessive temper taking control of our souls so that intellectual protective portion of our hearts says,

“Jeez. I just don’t know how to justify this.”

Same retreat.

Same ignoring the chaos we create, the anger we instill, the pathological relationship processes we attempt to normalize.

Same lack of concern for others feelings and drives.

And it makes me vomit to look in the mirror and witness a picture that even slightly resembles you

I am ashamed to contemplate my future, wondering if I have made any progress

Or will I, like  you…

Perpetuate abusive relationships with my partner, children, friends?

Seek to get to the top of my career potential, regardless of the effect on my family, my peace of mind, my health, my sanity?

Cope by putting myself on the highest pedestal possible, from my throne, dictate orders, refuse to apologize

Convince myself that I have the right, the foresight, to tell the peons below what to do and how to live?

Fuck history.

Can I work, grow, play beyond this?