Your voice will make room

Bleeding hearts unite…one hand paints love onto many. Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t educating. For as long as I can remember, I have been teaching someone something I know, even if only a little more than they do. That is different from simply expressing oneself (which others can learn from as well) because teaching or educating involves an understanding of your audience. It means knowing what they already know, what they don’t yet know, their level of comprehension, the language they are fluent in, what they are open to, what they are defensive about, etc. It is a tremendous intuitive process that happens, well…intuitively.

I started out teaching my parents the language and culture of the west (at the level of understanding a child has) when we first immigrated, and teaching my younger siblings the alphabet and how to tie their shoelaces. I went on to coaching people in adding creative practice and process to their lives and coaching writers in completing book manuscripts. And now I am teaching college students, including my children, how to research, write, communicate and present themselves and their ideas to the larger world. I am sharing insights with readers and listeners of my online posts and books about Life and its teachings.

Me at ten, around the age I was translating bank letters, contracts, and correspondence for my parents — in addition to explaining why women in the west shaved their underarms and legs.

Learning things and then passing along my impressions, perceptions, and knowings is a muscle I’ve been building since I was practicing cursive writing (they used to teach us that). I’m Sikh, and the very meaning of the Punjabi word sikh is ‘to learn’. And a guru is a teacher. Sikhs, therefore, are lifelong learners, with ten gurus who contributed to the philosophy of the faith. Teaching and learning are the foundation of who we are, part of our ancestry and our origin story. Our mythos and history is deeply driven by social justice; a compulsion to right the wrongs of power abuse and tyranny. In this way, justice and faith are intertwined, inextricably, with personal evolution—which is attained through learning and teaching.

When I was growing up, I was acutely aware of the importance of education. Education could liberate, unite, expand, deepen, and revolutionize. I understood that the quest for knowledge—the asking of questions and then seeking answers was part of what we are here for.

My paternal grandfather was the most educated in our family. He nurtured a love of learning in the same way he tended to the fields of mustard and wheat on our ancestral land.

I was hyper aware, as a child, about the restrictions around access to education. My mother was pulled out after third grade to help take care of her younger siblings and tend the house. My father was pulled out after tenth grade to work the family land. I grew up with incredibly intelligent, wise adults who thirsted for knowledge. Whose creativity was painted all over the walls of our home. Who ached to fulfill their potential, longed for training to hone and refine their gifts and talents.

As a girl-child who could still see the trailing end of the “What do girls need education for?” generation, I knew, very deeply, that education—for girls, for the poor, for certain castes and groups—was often a privilege that was out of reach.

I also knew that, because of its power to instill self-agency and autonomy, education is one of the first areas targeted by authoritarian regimes. It’s where young minds are molded, the future is shaped, where ideas are born. We see this in the banning of education for girls, the privatization and restriction of access to higher education, and the lack of resources for public education.

A high school teacher, who is also a family friend, was recently complaining about what’s been going on in his school. It’s a public school serving urban children, many with trauma related to poverty and histories of systemic violence. The school system has decided to implement a Restorative Justice (RJ) approach, which I applaud and believe in, but don’t feel we’ve fully figured out yet.

Restorative Justice is a viable theory that provides an alternative to more punitive approaches. I am of the mind that punishment does not work in the long term. It inculcates fear, so it might modify behavior in the short term, but it does not change what a person wants and needs, their psychology, or what they’ll try to do when no one’s looking.

My parents and many of their generation were big on punishment. All it accomplished was me developing a self that behaved the way they wanted me to when I was with them, and then finding ways to do what my true self wanted, when they weren’t around.

Restorative Justice tries to address that part – what a person wants and needs. It tries to find ways to integrate ‘harm-doers’ (also known as ‘offenders’ or ‘perpetrators’) into society while helping the harmed feel that justice has been served.

I think it’s an excellent idea—and an idea that will take genuine commitment. It is not a band-aid. For something like this to really work, there need to be massive foundational (like root-level) changes, and those take time. The problem with superficial or performative progress, i.e. band-aid solutions, is that it fails epically.

There needs to be a society working toward the same goal of collective progress. There need to be shifts in culture, attitudes, beliefs, and values.

There need to be resources made available for qualified professionals to work with both the harm-doer and harmed, and discovery or research processes to determine the facts of situations. Judith Herman, in her book Truth and Repair (2023), provides numerous cases where Restorative Justice has been attempted, where it has been successful, and where it has fallen short. She also explores what people who’ve been harmed need in order to heal and move forward from trauma. She suggests an approach rooted in a moral code that places the health and well-being of all members of the society at its core.

The RJ approach in our family friend’s school, without any real shifts in the school’s culture, or value and belief systems, has resulted in students essentially given free rein. Students do what they want, seemingly without consequence — at least, it seems like there are no consequences because staff are attempting to implement the required Restorative Justice approach, but it is, of course, taking a very long time. They are under-resourced. No one is a trauma expert, psychotherapist, versed in social justice and power dynamics, or trained in conflict resolution or arbitration. These are teachers…educators, not legal experts or psychologists. It’s not sticking because the surrounding environment has not changed to accommodate the new approach.

What you get, then, is a school that’s falling apart. That’s when victim blaming, one of the levers to maintain status-quo, kicks in. Fingers point toward the actions and behavior of Black and Brown children who are “out of control”, or toward the actions or inactions of administrators and faculty who are implementing top-down policies and procedures without the necessary funding or support to make them work. It looks like there is incompetence on all levels and someone just needs to come in and take a hard-line approach – go in there and “clean things up.” Lay down the law and order.

This is when authoritarian, “take-charge” actions start to look good to those afraid that everything is rapidly spiraling out of control. Because it is. The necessary supports are not in place to allow the change that is being initiated.

This is where people who want to change things, try a compassionate approach, create structures that focus on the humanity of those involved, include rather than exclude are called “snowflakes”, or “bleeding hearts” (not to mention the fact that the bleeding heart is often a symbol used in association with Christ, but that’s another post).

Because without the necessary supports, it looks like everything just goes to shit without a “strong hand” to get a tight grip on things. To maintain law and order.

[Sidenote: “Civilized” is another euphemism for “controlled” or “contained”. When colonizers first arrived in the lands they colonized, the societies they saw when they arrived seemed to them to be lawless. Primitive. “Uncivilized”.

Nature, Herself, is uncontained and often appears to be chaotic. But there is a wisdom there. She knows how to maintain a state of balance and equanimity, despite humanity’s selfish destruction, but I digress…]

Our society currently values what it sees as strength and might, while pulverizing anything it deems weakness – which often looks like women, children, marginalized groups, the environment, animals, etc. Anything with a tender heart, that is minding its own business being alive, and is open and receptive to love. Loving is weakness because it makes you “soft”. Hardness, domination, separateness, non-emotionality are uplifted for survival, which is a lie because love is what allows us to heal. It’s what we are all longing for.

A strong hand controlling everything is precisely the reason we are in this mess. The rigidity, punishing, lack of acceptance for other realities/perspectives/experiences is what fragments peaceful society. It otherizes those who don’t obey, step out of line, don’t stay “in their place”.

We are seeing this in the U.S. with the banning of books, restrictions around reproductive rights, and the control and policing of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans, and Queer lives and the lives of Black and Indigenous folks, and Folks of Color.

I agree with Ms. Arundhati Roy: another world is definitely possible. I, too, can “hear Her breathing”. But for another world to be possible, She needs time and resources and those of us who are willing to side with Her. Another world needs those of us who are committed to the long haul, and who have complete faith in Her truths, Her laws, and strength that is rooted not in physical or military domination, but in love and the fragility and resilience of life.

When the foundational structures of a society are under threat, structures like public education, access to learning, to institutions where personal evolution and expansion of awareness are nurtured and cultivated, then we are solidly on a path to tyranny. To the curbing of self-agency and autonomy.

We have a moral obligation in moments like this to speak up, even if our voices are trembling.

“My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you…And of course I am afraid, because the transformation of silence into language and action is an act of self-revelation and that always seems fraught with danger.” — Audre Lorde

In moments like these, when we are faced with disregard from those in power for the humanity that animates these bodies, there is an urgency—a requirement—to challenge accepted fallacies, even if we do so imperfectly, even if we do so with our beautiful, tender, loving and bleeding hearts pounding furiously in our chests.

Each of us thinking we’re alone is what allows lies to grow, and the truth is that there are more of us who know what is true, than who believe the lies we’re made to stomach. So, because there is no such thing as guaranteed safety, speak. Speak in whatever way/s you can. Whatever way/s feel safe enough. Your voice will make room for others to be brave.

Take good care of yourselves, and as always, thank you for reading and listening. Please leave a comment, like, subscribe, or pass this post along to someone you think might appreciate it.

<3, N