"What would it take, sincerely, to radicalize you?" I'm loosely quoting our organization’s chosen Nonviolent Communication Coach Jen Gergen (@jengergen on Instagram) in one of her helpful IG clips about the genocide in Palestine. In this instance, instead of using shame as a weapon to incite change and even revolution, she asks us to make self-inquiry.
We don't have time for comfy self inquiry, one might say. It's indulgent, one might say, in an extreme crisis. The harsh reality I'm faced with is that we are detached and we do have time to think - to transmute privilege and power well which I believe are desperately needed on behalf of the truly and situationally powerless.
What would it take? Good question. My bravery and connection to my values evolved out of conversations in which I was patiently and firmly invited to connect with them.
I'm not radicalized. I'm Marching for Rafah, I'm posting, but I'm not viewing footage. I'm not sure what it would take to go beyond where I am and do more and maybe I will find out but I'm asking myself that question every day and I'm not sure if others would consider where I am to be radicalized. I don't think so.
I believe I am complicit in the horror our nation is funding if I don't say otherwise, at least for myself. It really can't be explained away. May I suggest that if you aren't complicit that you love yourself enough to speak it and love the world enough to speak it?
I believe marching is wise because it's embodied and it uses our physical presence and voice in numbers to show an image of resistance. It also might keep us from taking to our keyboards to take down people who don't "measure up" in the face of genocide. I do hope we hold each other accountable with tough questions and reflect back what is doing harm. But taking people down wholesale in a shame shitstorm feels like a betrayal of our future hopes.
It's true - the pain is too much. We are witnessing something we wanted to believe we would never be a part of again. We are witnessing something that affects our faith in humanity and our faith narratives. We can't contain that pain, and our habit in the past has been to tear others down with it but this does no good. It just creates future turmoil.
We can move our bodies and raise our voices instead. We can ask questions. We can use our privilege for good.
If we're safe and we have food and water and room to think, we can think. We can take a workshop in Nonviolent Communication from Jen Gergen or others who can help us own our humanity as a general practice. We may not measure up to the moment, but we can do better in the next one by the work we put in today and by acknowledging how we respond to and affect change or whether we are just inciting more internal and relational violence through our inaction or shame-offloading.
We can meet this moment with our hearts and souls by connection to our deeper selves. It's a luxury. Let’s not waste it.