Save the dates! My friends and I at Temescal Commons are going to host The Week this April (we’re doing it 4/21, 22, and 23). The basics: You get together 3 times, during a week (hence “The Week”). Every time you watch a 1 hour documentary film episode about climate change. And then the heart of the experience is a guided conversation for 30 minutes (or more if you want) to make sense of it all. These are free and self-organized all over the world — a beautiful way to make our personal grief, questions, desire for action about climate change more collective.
Thanks for this thoughtful, helpful piece of writing. I really valued reading it, and will sit with many of your sentiments shared.
I was raised Jewish in the 90s and deeply propagandized around Israel. I came to learn the true history and realities of the country, about the violent displacement and subjugation of Palestinians, as a young adult.
Watching Israel commit genocide against the Palestinian people in Gaza has been gut-wrenching, not the least of which is because it can feel as though it's being "done in my name", i.e., "for Jewish people". To justify the mass murder and destruction of communities in that way makes me feel culpable and sick.
And yet, I feel almost incapable of talking about it with Jews who are zionists. Perhaps it is because I recognize the depth of the propaganda, and I feel that the only way to respond is with fury and passion - "how could you believe that what's happening right now is justified? how can you? what sort of monster?" and I don't want to have that kind of conversation. I know how deep the belief runs for them, and I don't want to wade into that water, as it's too deep to feel safe. I don't want to spark animosity between us, which I feel is the most likely outcome when you question something someone believes so firmly.
I do sometimes feel that my silence is violence, and I am sitting with such tremendous grief over the genocide taking place before our very eyes.
Wow. This may be the meatiest work I’ve read this week. Requires a careful reread and more reflection. In my 70s I am reeling from ‘it all.’ And unclear if I even have the heart to be a source of healing helping additive energy anymore. Tough times. Thank you for your provocative work.
I don't believe that silence on social media is violence. I think conversations without nuance can be, and can cause, violence. I believe that social media statements without concrete action are not much more than performative if the person is in a position to do more than talk but only rants.
This is an incredibly powerful message! I agree with the sentiment and thought behind such eloquence. It’s really so moving that I’m blown away by the honesty and urgency of it all. I’m in my mid- 80’s and share with Karen a sense of reeling from it all. Alienation is definitely a key force that comes from a system of economic exploitation and social injustice. I was inspired by Martin Luther King and that commitment to nonviolent action remains at the core of my personal and political philosophy. I revere his example and achievements, convinced that we must work to stop the insanity of war. His speech against the Vietnam disaster convinced me to make a lifelong vow of strict nonviolence is all its forms, domestic and international. “There is no way to peace. Peace is the way.” This isn’t a mere slogan but a profound truth and guide to everyday practice. DD
Trauma-informed was something you alluded to, but didn't completely dive into. Is that what you mean by a humam-first approach as well, or is that more centered on curiosity? That all sounds more effective!
This article resonates with me, as I think often cancel-culture and judgement isn't as effective as we'd like it to be. It squishes us from feeling safe and being authentic. How can calls-outs and accountability be productive when shame is attached? It doesn't work for my husband, so why would it work for a government or business? 😂🙄😬😔
But I have more personal reasons. Over a year ago, after writing and leading in justice spaces for nearly two decades, I was canceled publically. It was a small microcosm of the big world, but these were people I worked with very closely, and it ended up shutting down a nonprofit and professional relationships. It was heartbreaking and there was no desire for anyone to work anything out. I was told I said something wrong and just like that, I was put on trial, the people in power resigned, and I was being blasted online. Maybe I deserved it, (now I don't think I did after getting a lot of feedback). But either way, I still think the results were more damaging than good.
Ironically, this group of people who used to proudly wear a "trauma-informed" label. And I was reeling from trauma when the mallet fell, so it was very relevant but it was ignored.
Trauma, home-cultures, subcultures, and personality types are always relevant to conversations on major social issues. What we do usually makes sense within our context, so being pushed through call outs and angry activism doesn't help as it doesn't take this into account. Maybe it produces change, but not without shame or shutting authenticity down. Sustainable change means that it has to be authentic, actually having it align with our real values, not just our facade.
Maybe sometimes top-down can work to a degree, where society calls something good for long enough, we believe it eventually. However, even thinking of the Black Lives Matter, White involvement has gone down in dismantling systemic racism since 2020. Maybe it was because it was forced by peer pressure and not really real transformation.
What has lasted from that were the real conversations that were okay with gradual change, with the exploration that maybe we aren't as righteous as we think we are. We move on notches on our spectrum of belief, for it isn't so black and white.
I think back on being cancelled. Everything felt so confusing. Heck, it still does. The only change that was created was mostly bad, the failed nonprofit and broken untrustworthy relationships. And me needing more therapy for another year. But because of the trauma before, I would have been in therapy anyway and therapy is always good in my experience, so that seems irrelevant! That being said, the only thing good from being cancelled was that I learned how to write a DEI policy that should have been there from the beginning. But does the outcome of a DEI policy matter if the organization itself couldn't sustain the divisions of leadership taking sides and broke up?
The sad thing was, we had a grievance policy that was supposed to have the human element of conversation and a more trauma-informed approach. But how does it help when judgement goes down before there is anyway to create solutions?
So, here is my case story. Maybe what will be good is that we can all learn from it that judgement and angry or tirgger-reaponses aren't that effective for change. The moral majority can't change people's values nor is it flexible enough to walk in the gray spaces.
Sometime after I was canceled, I started a substack to try to address some of the same tension you are referring to, especially how to be authentic when there is the looming fear of judgement and trauma over your shoulder.
I've explored this tension for over a year and I have no great answers. All my black and white lines blur in the middle. I want to give space and be safe. But speak up against wrongs. And I still get angry when people don't see the suffering in the world or our own compliance. I hold it all.I hear you when you stated:
"Maybe it’s a middle age thing that I feel so in middle of it all. I crave both—the bright moral lines of youth and the capacity to hold complexity and compassion of elders. I want money and power to be redistributed and I want acknowledgement that sometimes maintaining everyone’s dignity while doing it in the midstream of systemic savagery is really confusing. I want huge billowing banners that call for ceasefire and I want absolutely everyone’s suffering honored, no exceptions."
And maybe this is exactly where we are supposed to be.
I appreciate the nuance and emotional depth you explored in this essay.
What stood out for me, when you said: "It’s horrific to live in this world—hemmed into so many profoundly unjust systems. There is so much grief in your heart if you stay awake to it, so much powerlessness. It’s easy to lash out at those nearest us in the face of it."
I disagree -- It is beautiful to live in this world, despite being conscious of all these unjust systems. There's a responsibility and hope I have that in the next life, that those who commit injustice will be be punished. That the wrongs will be set right. I see how it can be horrific if this world is all there is. Thank you for giving me so much to think about Courtney.
Thanks for this thoughtful, helpful piece of writing. I really valued reading it, and will sit with many of your sentiments shared.
I was raised Jewish in the 90s and deeply propagandized around Israel. I came to learn the true history and realities of the country, about the violent displacement and subjugation of Palestinians, as a young adult.
Watching Israel commit genocide against the Palestinian people in Gaza has been gut-wrenching, not the least of which is because it can feel as though it's being "done in my name", i.e., "for Jewish people". To justify the mass murder and destruction of communities in that way makes me feel culpable and sick.
And yet, I feel almost incapable of talking about it with Jews who are zionists. Perhaps it is because I recognize the depth of the propaganda, and I feel that the only way to respond is with fury and passion - "how could you believe that what's happening right now is justified? how can you? what sort of monster?" and I don't want to have that kind of conversation. I know how deep the belief runs for them, and I don't want to wade into that water, as it's too deep to feel safe. I don't want to spark animosity between us, which I feel is the most likely outcome when you question something someone believes so firmly.
I do sometimes feel that my silence is violence, and I am sitting with such tremendous grief over the genocide taking place before our very eyes.
Wow. This may be the meatiest work I’ve read this week. Requires a careful reread and more reflection. In my 70s I am reeling from ‘it all.’ And unclear if I even have the heart to be a source of healing helping additive energy anymore. Tough times. Thank you for your provocative work.
I like the language of human-first listening.
I don't believe that silence on social media is violence. I think conversations without nuance can be, and can cause, violence. I believe that social media statements without concrete action are not much more than performative if the person is in a position to do more than talk but only rants.
This is an incredibly powerful message! I agree with the sentiment and thought behind such eloquence. It’s really so moving that I’m blown away by the honesty and urgency of it all. I’m in my mid- 80’s and share with Karen a sense of reeling from it all. Alienation is definitely a key force that comes from a system of economic exploitation and social injustice. I was inspired by Martin Luther King and that commitment to nonviolent action remains at the core of my personal and political philosophy. I revere his example and achievements, convinced that we must work to stop the insanity of war. His speech against the Vietnam disaster convinced me to make a lifelong vow of strict nonviolence is all its forms, domestic and international. “There is no way to peace. Peace is the way.” This isn’t a mere slogan but a profound truth and guide to everyday practice. DD
Reading Richard Rohr and E. Tolle (almost) daily to guide me to love and peace.
I really, really appreciate this. Thank you.
Such an important and moving piece, one that resonates and feels so tender to read. Thank you.
Wow. I’m going to need to re-read this. The passion of youth and the wisdom of elders. So hard, but so necessary.
Trauma-informed was something you alluded to, but didn't completely dive into. Is that what you mean by a humam-first approach as well, or is that more centered on curiosity? That all sounds more effective!
This article resonates with me, as I think often cancel-culture and judgement isn't as effective as we'd like it to be. It squishes us from feeling safe and being authentic. How can calls-outs and accountability be productive when shame is attached? It doesn't work for my husband, so why would it work for a government or business? 😂🙄😬😔
But I have more personal reasons. Over a year ago, after writing and leading in justice spaces for nearly two decades, I was canceled publically. It was a small microcosm of the big world, but these were people I worked with very closely, and it ended up shutting down a nonprofit and professional relationships. It was heartbreaking and there was no desire for anyone to work anything out. I was told I said something wrong and just like that, I was put on trial, the people in power resigned, and I was being blasted online. Maybe I deserved it, (now I don't think I did after getting a lot of feedback). But either way, I still think the results were more damaging than good.
Ironically, this group of people who used to proudly wear a "trauma-informed" label. And I was reeling from trauma when the mallet fell, so it was very relevant but it was ignored.
Trauma, home-cultures, subcultures, and personality types are always relevant to conversations on major social issues. What we do usually makes sense within our context, so being pushed through call outs and angry activism doesn't help as it doesn't take this into account. Maybe it produces change, but not without shame or shutting authenticity down. Sustainable change means that it has to be authentic, actually having it align with our real values, not just our facade.
Maybe sometimes top-down can work to a degree, where society calls something good for long enough, we believe it eventually. However, even thinking of the Black Lives Matter, White involvement has gone down in dismantling systemic racism since 2020. Maybe it was because it was forced by peer pressure and not really real transformation.
What has lasted from that were the real conversations that were okay with gradual change, with the exploration that maybe we aren't as righteous as we think we are. We move on notches on our spectrum of belief, for it isn't so black and white.
I think back on being cancelled. Everything felt so confusing. Heck, it still does. The only change that was created was mostly bad, the failed nonprofit and broken untrustworthy relationships. And me needing more therapy for another year. But because of the trauma before, I would have been in therapy anyway and therapy is always good in my experience, so that seems irrelevant! That being said, the only thing good from being cancelled was that I learned how to write a DEI policy that should have been there from the beginning. But does the outcome of a DEI policy matter if the organization itself couldn't sustain the divisions of leadership taking sides and broke up?
The sad thing was, we had a grievance policy that was supposed to have the human element of conversation and a more trauma-informed approach. But how does it help when judgement goes down before there is anyway to create solutions?
So, here is my case story. Maybe what will be good is that we can all learn from it that judgement and angry or tirgger-reaponses aren't that effective for change. The moral majority can't change people's values nor is it flexible enough to walk in the gray spaces.
Sometime after I was canceled, I started a substack to try to address some of the same tension you are referring to, especially how to be authentic when there is the looming fear of judgement and trauma over your shoulder.
I've explored this tension for over a year and I have no great answers. All my black and white lines blur in the middle. I want to give space and be safe. But speak up against wrongs. And I still get angry when people don't see the suffering in the world or our own compliance. I hold it all.I hear you when you stated:
"Maybe it’s a middle age thing that I feel so in middle of it all. I crave both—the bright moral lines of youth and the capacity to hold complexity and compassion of elders. I want money and power to be redistributed and I want acknowledgement that sometimes maintaining everyone’s dignity while doing it in the midstream of systemic savagery is really confusing. I want huge billowing banners that call for ceasefire and I want absolutely everyone’s suffering honored, no exceptions."
And maybe this is exactly where we are supposed to be.
I appreciate the nuance and emotional depth you explored in this essay.
What stood out for me, when you said: "It’s horrific to live in this world—hemmed into so many profoundly unjust systems. There is so much grief in your heart if you stay awake to it, so much powerlessness. It’s easy to lash out at those nearest us in the face of it."
I disagree -- It is beautiful to live in this world, despite being conscious of all these unjust systems. There's a responsibility and hope I have that in the next life, that those who commit injustice will be be punished. That the wrongs will be set right. I see how it can be horrific if this world is all there is. Thank you for giving me so much to think about Courtney.