Tag Archives: Humanity

Building Peace: Compassion is for the Community

Wednesday, 18 March 2020 Rebecca Michelle Leave a comment

Beginning in late spring 2016, I started a post series called “Building Peace”. Two years later, I collected my thoughts into a book with the same title and have kept up the series periodically since. It has been over a year since I have specifically titled a post in this way but peacebuilding is never far from my mind.

If you’re familiar with my work, you know that I have been interested in compassion for a long time and that my views about what compassion is (and isn’t) have grown, evolved, and shifted. The word compassion has become increasingly popular and as a result, it has also lost much of its intended meaning. The consequence of diluted meaning is that we think we’re all doing just fine behaving just the way we are . . . when in fact we are not.

Let’s start with some definitions.

With a little help from my favourite dictionary

According to Merriam-Webster, my dictionary of choice since reading Kory Stamper’s truly hilarious account Word by Word: The Secret Life of Dictionaries, the meaning of compassion is “sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it”. In my personal experience, compassion is often linked with both care and empathy but these also have very different meanings. Empathy is the more nuanced of the two and Merriam-Webster provides two definitions:

1: the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner
–also: the capacity for this
2: the imaginative projection of a subjective state into an object so that the object appears to be infused with it

So, compassion means understanding someone’s distress and desiring to alleviate it. Empathy means, in colloquial terms, putting yourself in the shoes of another person to understand their place and perspective. Empathy means that you need to understand. Compassion means that you need to act.

Who is compassion for?

Not too long ago I wrote about why people choose not to act. I have also written that compassion is a practice and that it takes work and time and, significantly, the desire to do good or do what is right. I have tended to focus on compassion between individuals and through this focus, I think I’ve missed some fundamental points. This post attempts to take a more nuanced view of compassion than I have taken in the past.

A few conversations with several people, some reflections on religious texts, and a Theory of Knowledge lesson on consequentialist ethics (among others) has led me to an idea that differs from what I have written previously. Rather than being between and for individuals, compassion is for the community.

A scenario

Jane is an experienced teacher new to my school. She spends most of her time putting together colourful documents and showing them off to others. She misses planning meetings with some colleagues (although attends others), comes to work over the weekend to mark papers (although takes weeks to return anything to her students), and repeats herself frequently in conversation. Jane operates on a highly rigid structure that she is proud of and claims works for her, but she seems constantly overwhelmed. Despite this, she volunteers for additional tasks and amends work that others have created, leading to yet more colourful documents. It is not uncommon for Jane to ask how a colleague approached a particular lesson only to launch into a detailed explanation of how she, Jane, redesigned each of the resources that had been previously created for collective use.

What should a compassionate colleague do with Jane?

You may answer that the colleague should mentor her, talk with her, share their own resources, or offer suggestions about different ways of working. Maybe they should partner with Jane on her projects and split up the work, or take on some of her tasks.

Maybe our compassionate colleague should do all of these things, but they will soon learn that Jane will just continue along the way Jane always has. So they could choose to invest time in Jane but they already have evidence that Jane is unlikely to take any advice. Nevertheless, she might need someone to talk to. Okay, let’s provide a listening ear here and there, perhaps over lunch.

But what if the right thing to do with Jane at this point is to recognise that Jane has made a choice to resist help? Doing this allows the reallocation of time to those in my community who might actually benefit.

This is where we run into problems: It’s relatively easy for us to identify a specific and obviously suffering person and do something for them that will make us feel good. However, doing so misses the fundamental point that there is much more that we don’t see. By devoting our time and energy to a single individual, we miss a far greater responsibility, which is that to our community.

Reframing compassion

I argue here that the community needs to be highlighted and emphasised in our discourse on compassion. Far too often, we devote our time, energy, and resources to relatively few people at the detriment to and neglect of others around us. There are many reasons why we might do this: ego in feeling useful, the sunk cost fallacy in which we’ve already given one person so much of our time that we don’t want to give up, and fear of being wrong about our decision to help someone in the first place. The point remains the same: We have a responsibility to the communities we have chosen to be part of.

Let’s consider three items to consider:
1. What does this mean and how does this work?
2. Wait – when did I choose to be part of a community?
3. Wait – I definitely did not choose to be part of a community.

What does this mean and how does this work?

If we consider compassion as part of our responsibility to a community, this means that we need to look much more broadly than we are accustomed to. It means being aware of those around us, and not only when they’re upset in the ways that we are used to seeing people upset. This varies significantly by culture, which is another piece of this puzzle. Rather, we need to see one another to know each other, and through doing so, we need to cultivate connections with others even in the smallest ways.

Considering ourselves compassionate means that we are available for those around us before they reach the point of needing to be held. There is a great deal of research on the importance of social connection that I will not reiterate here, but do take a look. Here’s a link to start you off.

Compassion is, therefore, an attitude that we can take in our interactions and approaches to others at any time. I’ve written at length about adopting principles as attitudes and I think this is an appropriate lens. If I am a compassionate person, this is the way I see the world. Choosing times to act compassionately while neglecting that principle at other times does not equate.

Wait – when did I choose to be part of a community?

I will focus on education here because this is a chosen realm in which I can actually say a thing or two. Even if you are not part of an educational community, please read on. I hope you will be able to apply what I say to your own context – and I’d really like to hear about it!

Let’s consider the people who work in schools, specifically people responsible for teaching and learning. This means administrators, teachers, teaching assistants, and support staff. These are the people who have specifically chosen to be in a school context. Regardless of the reason for that choice, all of these adults are responsible in some way for the teaching and learning that will help shape young people. They carry a duty to raise these young people in certain ways.

If it is evident that some people do not behave in accordance with the purposes and practices of a community, they should be asked to modify their behaviours or be invited to leave. They have entered into a social contract with these young people and are responsible for their end of it.

In the context of education, the primary responsibility of all of these adults is first to the students in their care. My actions should be framed around how a certain decision, special event, or daily occurrence will impact students. This means that when we think about compassion, we need to consider the overall impact of our actions on the community that exists to support students, not only the impact of one individual’s choice on another.

The purpose of this post is not to provide guidance on how to make choices but to point out our tendency to fixate on individual relationships and forget that we are actually part of something much bigger. The purpose of this post is to argue that we need to ask very different questions than we are in the habit of asking. Our concern should not stop with the recognition that an individual colleague or student is overwhelmed. Rather, it should extend to consider who else might be feeling similarly, why that is, and what we can do to create a better environment for all. This is what it means to reframe our discourse on compassion.

Wait – I definitely did not choose to be part of a community.

I agree that this is sometimes the case. We choose our friends, not our families, and many of us are born into a culture, heritage, ethnic group, or religious tradition (or some combination thereof). Even without a choice, the outcome is the same. If we want parts of our lives to work in certain ways, we are responsible for building that. Kant’s categorical imperative states that our behaviour should reflect what we wish to be universal law. A really simple way of putting it: If you do X, imagine a world in which everyone else does X.

My guess is that most people would prefer a world in which we actively look out for each other rather than invest our time and energy into one squeaky wheel. And my other guess is that there’s far more of the latter going on than the former. This is why we need to start asking different questions and making different choices.

So even if you did not choose to be part of a community, you are. As stated above, I do not believe that anyone should be forced into a community that they do not want to be part of. In the case of voluntary communities, you can leave at any time. Even involuntary communities are, to some extent and barring extremes, voluntary. Making the choice not to leave does not privilege any individual over the collective community fabric.

Compassion as peacebuilding

A long time ago, I identified building peace as the purpose of education. The linked post explains how I arrived at this view. Compassion is part of peacebuilding because it is with compassion that we relate to others in ways that recognise all parts of their humanity. In doing so, we also recognise our own.

From writer Susan Sontag:

“Compassion is an unstable emotion. It needs to be translated into action, or it withers. The question of what to do with the feelings that have been aroused, the knowledge that has been communicated. If one feels that there is nothing ‘we’ can do — but who is that ‘we’? — and nothing ‘they’ can do either — and who are ‘they’ — then one starts to get bored, cynical, apathetic.”

This is precisely why it is not enough to talk about, think about, and bandy about compassion. Being compassionate cannot be reserved for the easy and obvious moments and we cannot wait for someone else to show us what to do. If we are human and those around us are human, if we are part of a community, and if we actually cast a wide look around rather than fixating on one visible point . . . this is action. These are our actions. And acting in this way opens the possibilities of deeper connection, and a more peaceful and more just world.

On My Mind

On Human Dignity

Thursday, 16 May 2019 Rebecca Michelle 4 Comments

When I stand in front of you, I am there because I have a right to be. I need no permission and no justification. I am there and so are you.

Which is all you need to see in order to treat me with the dignity I deserve. And I deserve it not because you think so, but because I am there. And so are you.

When you stand in front of me, my only response is to look you in the eye, acknowledge your presence, and treat you with the dignity you deserve. You deserve it because you are human.

Which is all I need to see in order to treat you the way that I, too, have a right to be treated. Because I am human.

I am really, really disturbed. I am scared. I am angry. And so in my own way, I am screaming. Once again, bodies are a topic of discussion in the United States. The women whose bodies these are have been deliberately left out of the conversation. Their agency has been stolen. Their life experiences devalued. And their dignity? Their humanity? Purposely not acknowledged because that would destroy the whole thing.

As a teacher and learner of psychology, I can explain the mechanisms of group cohesion, kinship selection, stereotyping, and self-concept that are at play here.

But as a human, I cannot understand it.

When I was a child, we learned the Golden Rule of treating others the way you want to be treated. One year when I was teaching middle school, my students scoffed at my outdated notions of behavior. It was passé, they made quite clear, to only consider myself when deciding how to treat others. The Platinum Rule, I was told, was to treat others the way they want to be treated.

I smiled at the time, enjoying the moment where students are strong enough to stand up to a teacher when they deem it important. But I had a problem with this idea then and I have a problem with it now.

When you don’t think of others as having human dignity, you cannot treat them the way they’d want to be treated because you fail to see them at all.

Of course, the goal is to view every individual as having dignity merely on the basis of being human. But for those who choose not to do that, at least treating another the way you’d want to be treating forces you to recognize that they have dignity because you do. While this differs dramatically from someone’s having dignity because they do, it’s a start and it’s better than indifference.

In a better world, my students would be right. We should treat others the way they want to be treated because they have dignity. Because they are human. Because they are.

I am an educator because I believe in that world. But I am writing this blog post because I am human and I am screaming.

On My Mind

Plastic Straws Are Not the Enemy

Saturday, 8 September 2018 Rebecca Michelle 1 Comment

My school has fully jumped on board with the “no straws” campaign. It was heading in this direction last year when signs went up in the café pointing out that straws contribute to the increase of plastic in the oceans. This year, the café no longer gives out straws or lids, except upon request.

Okay. I’m all for reducing plastic. I recycle everything that can be recycled, even though I live in a country that doesn’t really recycle. I take reusable bags to the grocery store and plan out purses and backpacks based on what I think I’ll buy and the best way to carry it. I’ve stopped buying paper towels for my kitchen and have always brought real cutlery in my lunchbox. So yes, let’s reduce waste and plastic. No argument there.

But . . . plastic straws are not the problem. Plastic straws are not the enemy. Banning plastic straws will not save the oceans, despite the current popularity of the sentiment. But banning plastic straws can raise awareness about the human impact on the environment. And if we keep the focus on “awareness” instead of demonizing the straw, maybe we’ll make some progress.

Beyond Straws
Straws are ubiquitous in our world. They are everywhere. We enjoy drinking from them and have gotten used to having them. To be honest, I didn’t think twice about straws until they became Public Enemy No. 1. People expect straws with their restaurant beverages because that’s what we’re used to. That’s part of what makes eating in a restaurant different from eating at home, even if we’re just drinking the same glass of water. Banning straws helps us recognize that we don’t actually need them. Sure, they’re fun and all, but necessary? Not for most of us. (More on this below.)

Hopefully, as we get used to being asked whether we need a straw or become accustomed to being discouraged from using them, we’ll realize that there are many other products we don’t need and can live without. For example, I have friends whose only paper products are in their bathroom. They don’t have paper towels and they don’t have napkins. They have tissues for guests but carry handkerchiefs themselves. They shop at markets to avoid plastic packaging and avoid takeaway for the same reason. I thought about these friends when I initially ran out of paper towels and, because their example served as a reminder, I haven’t bought any since. Napkins will be the next thing to go.

Realizing which products are unnecessary in our lives and making changes as a result is great. Maybe banning straws will raise awareness of how we can reduce unnecessaries in other areas of our lives, but banning straws can also be detrimental in unintended ways.

Because Sometimes, Straws Are a Tool
My sister and I discuss a lot of things that we both agree we can’t talk about with most other people. This summer, one of those things was our hesitation about jumping on board with the straw ban. My sister is a vegan and I’m a vegetarian and we both go out of our way to purchase environmentally friendly products, which we’re lucky to have the financial resources to do. But we both have educational background in and work experience with people with disabilities, and that means looking at conventionally popular campaigns like the straw ban through a different lens.

My sister is a speech pathologist and as soon as she mentioned it, it became obvious. Some people require plastic bendable straws to drink. Going out and being thirsty without advance planning or simply forgetting reusable alternatives at home should not preclude people with disabilities from being out in public and purchasing a beverage. It’s not hard to imagine that this could be a problem once you begin to think about it.

Based on that alone, I’m not in favor of an outright ban on plastic straws. Provide alternatives? Yes. Ban plastic bendable straws? No. The majority of us live in a world that we have designed to our needs and preferences, but those needs and preferences should not add yet another barrier to full participation in society for people with disabilities. We can rethink this and build inclusive communities. Do you need a straw? Maybe not. But might someone else. Absolutely.

So please, before you jump on board with any campaign, have a think. You can make personal choices without imposing them on people who might not have as much flexibility as you do.

And After All, Banning Straws Isn’t Enough
Another concern I have is that making a mission out of the plastic straw ban and vilifying those who use them might become a way for people who don’t otherwise pay attention to the environment feel like they’re making a difference. If “doing your part” means not using straws, that’s step one, but there’s a long way to go. And you and I and everyone else all bear responsibility for it.

Let’s consider pollution for a moment:

Air: According to the WHO, air pollution kills upwards of 7 million people each year. And 91% of the world’s population live in places where air quality exceeds the WHO’s limits. Industrialization and urbanization, which disproportionately impact people in developing countries, are largely to blame for this. The ways around this are expensive, yes, but it is certainly possible with today’s technology to sustainably build cities. And as the world’s population moves towards cities, we need them to be sustainable if they are to be liveable at all.

Land: Land pollution refers to activities that destroy or degrade the Earth’s surface and soil. This pollution can be more difficult to see or to recognize because the mere act of living in the world requires food and housing, generates waste, and otherwise has a direct or indirect impact on the planet. But awareness about the choices we make, which policies and programs we support, and where our food comes from can go a long way here.

Water: It’s old news that water pollution is increasing. We’ve been bombarded with a lot of pathetic pictures of ocean creatures and plastic, which was the impetus for the straw ban. Over half a billion people rely on polluted water for survival, which many of us don’t realize until we travel to places where you can’t drink the water. As with the above examples, water pollution is avoidable with conscious effort from companies and consumers to properly dispose of waste and reduce use of substances that can run off into water.

Straws? A gateway to solving some problems but not, in and of themselves, a panacea for saving the whales or the turtles. (It’s ironic that somehow we’ve forgotten the most vulnerable people.) And all those companies, restaurants, and cafés no longer purchasing and providing straws? I’d like to know what they are doing to support sustainability projects and programs. Because it’s about more than not using something. We instead have to do something.

Conscious Consumerism
I generally have a lot of optimism about humanity, and I also have a bit of a history of being disappointed. It’s easy to blame circumstances when plans don’t work out, but there are no circumstances here; there are merely people. So if we, the people, become conscious consumers of all things, from food and products to homes, transportation, and even the organizations that govern our work and leisure, we will all be better off.

For the reasons above, I don’t support an outright ban on straws. And if you’ve read this far, I suspect you don’t, either. But if taking something you’re used to out of your life helps you begin to recognize that you can make other choices, too, then the demonization of straws will have done its job. If you can say “no” to the use of a straw, how about yet another napkin with your takeaway? How about walking down the block instead of driving your car? Opting for a hearty salad without chicken? Opening doors and windows to cool your home? Spending an extra few dollars for eco-friendly cleaning products? Donating your clothes and old kitchen supplies? Taking your electronics to a recycling center?

Being a conscious consumer means being aware of what you’re buying and therefore what you support, instead of just doing the easiest, fastest, or cheapest thing. If the old aphorisms are true, that “there’s no such thing as a free lunch” and “you get what you pay for”, it seems only logical that we must pay for a better world. Since this is the only world we have, and we’re paying much more dearly, in dollars and in lives, for a contaminated world, the solution seems obvious.

Make conscious choices. Think about what you need and what you don’t and remember that we’re all in this together. You matter in this change – you and your conscious choices.

By Rebecca Michelle