On Being Blunt, or What if it was me?

Yeah, I know.  I am blunt.  It gets me in trouble.  I don't care.  

I am blunt because I spent a childhood being mute about the abuse I suffered at the hands of an adult that was supposed to be my protector.  I am blunt now for all the years I spent thinking loud thoughts like "Why don't all you adults see what is right before your eyes! Do something, people with power and means!"  I am blunt now because I know being mute is an unacceptable response to the wrongs of the world.  I am blunt now as reparations for that lost childhood, and as a means to honor the humanity of all the wounded people I encounter. 

So, now I am going to be blunt about what it is like to be in a relationship with a person facing the daily trials of a chronic illness.  It is very difficult.  Everything I imagined for myself at 25, at 35, all the things I had worked hard to accomplish vanished in an instant with a diagnosis that took three long years, much medical trial and error, and several extended hospital stays to reach.  Savings disappeared in an instant, never possible to return.  Access to affordable health insurance became a driving force beyond measure.  Constant dealings with the health industrial complex dominate our days.

All those practicalities aside, I have to watch the person I love, the person I pledged to stand beside struggle with daily activities, yet getting up everyday and trying his best.  I am amazed at the strength of his character, his striving toward normalcy, and how hard he works to do what needs to be done.  I struggle with watching him be judged by people who never take one moment to imagine what it must be like to be him.  It is so frustrating to witness all the people he encounters in his daily personal war against illness who never have the common decency to ask "What can I do to help you stay engaged in meaningful activities and contributing to society?" Or to say "Thanks" for his accomplishments, large and small.

This is not to say I do not have many moments where my own thoughts are less than stellar.  I go through periods of fantasy where I imagine all sorts of scenarios whereby I do not have to deal with this any longer.  I get angry.  I feel tired.  I am depressed.  I judge him.  I once again wonder why no one sees me, sees that I, too, have a struggle to face each day.  It's like being that little kid again, everyday, pleading mutely with the world to make it stop. 

But, every day I blunt the self-pity with a simple question to myself, the one everyone should ask themselves one hundred times a day, whenever they encounter suffering:  What if it was me?

I am made better from this daily exercise.  I am not a martyr.  I am a fully realized human, with a life filled with joy and suffering, pleasure and pain, ups and downs.  I am committed to my ideals.  I will leave this place better for having been here.  And I will do my best not to be indifferent to the suffering of anyone, be they my partner or a stranger. 

Indifference to suffering is as bad as actively inflicting suffering.  When we retreat to the zero-sum game mentality we have been conditioned by all our modern institutions to live by, and think "thank god that wasn't me" or "that would never happen to me" or "I am superior," we are essentially stating loud and clear to the universe and everyone paying attention that we do not care about our fellow men.  It doesn't matter whether we label ourselves a liberal or a "compassionate" conservative.  Labels are words.  Words are not actions.  When we watch someone being kicked when they are down and we do nothing, thinking it best for self-preservation, or maybe even thinking, "well, they must deserve it" we are neither liberal nor compassionate.  "Nothing" is an action.  We are mean.  And mean people suck.  They suck the humanity out of everyone. 

We live in the meanest times I have ever encountered.  I honestly think if the Holocaust were happening today, unfolding just as it did before, there would be so much less resistance, so fewer hidden by those with means, no matter how meager.  Anne Frank would never have gotten to write her diary.  She'd have been dead the first day if some schmuck thought he'd get some extra cigarettes and a gold star for it.

So, for all you who have stood by the sidelines, never asking how we are, here's an update.  We are in need of support.  We live in a time of instant and easy communication.  An email, a text, a note with a "forever"-unbelievably-cheap stamp on it, or a phone call can make our day.  Our little girl could use some reassurance that the world is not filled entirely with self-glorifying, self-serving jerks and a general populace scared witless, silent, and indifferent by the former. 

And "yes" is the answer to the question "Am I my brother's keeper?" in case you didn't get the memo.

Truth, Honesty, and Empathy

Several days have passed since the shootings in Newtown, Connecticut.  Many more tragedies have befallen the world's people in that time.  All the timeless terrors of human life - war, hunger, illness, poverty, homelessness, addiction, natural disasters, accidents, to name but a few - have visited and left devastation in their wake.  Life is struggle.  Life is suffering.  Without struggle and suffering, we would not know triumph and joy.  This does not make struggle and suffering any easier to bear.

But all humans struggle and suffer in some capacity, including children.  They are not of some other existence.  This sort of "innocence" is an adult fantasy.  Experience begins with the first breath, a struggle to leave the amniotic world and enter an entirely different environment.  Children are not unaware of the world and the struggle to survive.  They just have less experience.

After reading numerous posts and articles regarding "what to tell the children" I have come to realize I am of a somewhat minority opinion on this topic.  I believe attempting to hide the world is tantamount to lying to your child.  If you believe attachment comes from a place of trust, lying is not permissible. 

Kids live in the same world adults do, but they need some assistance with navigation.  And when navigating terrain as complex as human society, it's so much better to be aware of obstacles than oblivious. 

The problems of our human culture are enormous.  Ossified institutions, technocratic leadership, alienating technology, and the greed, war, poverty, and illness they encourage are not things easily hidden.  The triumphs of human culture are also enormous.  Good things exist and happen, too.  They are also not easily hidden.  Reality is messy, but humans cannot escape it, including the young.  

I believe children are learning to navigate reality, and this is a journey they will continue throughout their lives.  Reality doesn't always seem friendly or safe, but it is what it is.  Humans do not have omnipotence, but we do have consciousness.  It is our moral obligation to develop this consciousness by inculcating empathy in our children and ourselves.  They cannot practice empathy if they are unaware of human suffering.  If they do not practice empathy from their earliest memory, it will not gain the traction it needs to root itself in their very core. 

To understand that life is fragile, and that bad things happen to good people, is not inherently frightening if this view is developed with the love and support of family and friends.  One of the memes that has circulated heavily this weekend is Mr Rogers remembering his mother telling him to "look for the helpers" when he was frightened by news of terrible events.  This is precisely what I mean.  If from an early age, humans learn that their experiences are not happening in a vacuum, that others like themselves have faced what they face, and they can turn to others, the helpers, when in need, there would be so much less fear, loneliness, depression, desperation, and anger, and problems would not escalate so quickly and violently. 

We must raise our children to be part of something bigger than themselves, expressing their individual gifts as a contributor, a helper, a builder, instead of as atomized individuals, alone, in constant competition for material success and favor.  They must understand the relativity of their position, that we are all equal in rights but not in social privilege or natural gifts, and thus we must always consider the least of us in our ideas and actions. 

Another important point must be made in light of the current tragedy instigating discussion:   We must not demonize mental illness.  By calling people "evil" we fail to address the human-created system that bred and/or failed to help them.   We cannot presume anyone, including our own children, won't ever suffer from a mental illness or significant form of stress.  If they see such illness or stress as a stigma, they too may be reluctant to get the help they need, and the system of ensured failure perpetuates itself.   

Life is about choices, though we don't often get all the options we'd like to have.  We must show our children there are always other humans to turn to for help, and children will do so if they have been raised to see others as compatriots, not competitors. We must look at all our institutions and notice how they work against cooperation, and give privilege to extreme competition, to the point where we lose our humanity and begin to take out competitors through violence.  

This is the 15th mass shooting in the US this year.  Parents who think their children know nothing of this type of occurrence appear delusional, and are likely to have diminished credibility as their children grow older.  We adults need to stop appearing delusional or our children will never trust us to help them.

As someone who favors Buddhist and existential philosophy, and having dealt with human and companion animal deaths, chronic illness, and aging friends and family, I have always emphasized to my daughter our mortality and the fleeting nature of life.  Maybe this is what makes my minority perspective feel natural.  Maybe it's because I have had these conversations with my daughter for as long as bad things have been happening, which is since, well, always.  Kids are human.  They have the same types of feelings adults have, they just have less experience to filter them through, so their expressions are different. 


All this said, I don't think you have to inundate a child with tragedy, just acknowledge it.  Talk honestly about your own feelings.  Use reason and logic to remind them that, mostly, we muddle along safely.  If we get sick, we mostly get better.  If we get hurt, we mostly heal.  But sometimes we don't.  Don't promise something you know to be false.  Just note that in all these circumstances, there are always helpers, people who are caring, helpful, and kind.

Remind them of all the history your ancestral family has experienced, yet here we are.   This is how to develop reverence.  Go outside, look at the beauty of the natural world, and then say thanks to all who have come before you and endured, so you, too, are privileged to see a mountain, the starry sky, a sunset, or a flower.  Be thankful for every day, starting with the first breath.  It's never too early to be grateful.  It's never too early to learn to be kind, for we know not what battles each person faces.  Help exists because there is always need.  We extend our hand, and in turn, someone extends a hand to us.  

Even the tiniest of children go through "helping" stages.  Encourage them to look for ways to help, and they can't avoid noticing need.  Needs that go unnoticed cause tragedy.  We must all notice and help more, and we can't do this if we are busy hiding things.