Living in White America

Good friend, therapist & poet: Sam Louie.

Sam and I have been co-facilitating presentations on race in the therapy setting.  It has been encouraging to see therapists respond so appreciatively.  Folks have been giving us feedback and reminding us that this conversation isn’t happening enough.  How can we be effective therapists if we don’t understand the dynamics of race & culture?

During our presentations Sam often shares a poem he wrote to capture the confusing picture of acculturation in the US from an Asian perspective.  I felt it important to share it here.  This is the recorded version.

I’m yellow, you’re white,
right or wrong, my last name is Wong.
I look different you call names,
I ask why, is my skin be to blame?

Set apart in the U-S of A,
I wonder to myself, “Am I ok?”

Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at these!
Jeez!

Go ahead stare, glare, point a finger,
why not, they won’t care,
Besides, it’s everywhere!
Playgrounds, schools, work, 
Psst, my boss? Insensitive Jerk!

You see, no matter the place,
Because of my face
I can’t escape race.
We try to fit in, fit in, 
become citizens,
“Speak English!”,
eat Kentucky Fried chicken!

Sing songs, pledge allegiance,
Oh say, can you see?
My country tis a thee,
This land is your land, this land is my land?
However no matter what we do,
There are those, whose desire is to exclude.

This message ain’t about hate,
don’t get me wrong,
It’s about fate
for those born a Wong.
Can’t forget the Kims, the Chins, the Lees, or the Nguyens,
Want nothing more, treated as humans.

Trust, respect, acceptance, inclusion
Are we asking too much, to forego exclusion?

A song from the 80′s, whoa I remember,
encapsulates what I so treasure,
I’m only human, of flesh and blood I’m made,
Born to make mistakes,
doesn’t mean, living here in this place!

 

Saying goodbye to a loved one: our family pet

Yesterday our beloved Molly passed away.  She was our kitty.  She had been with us for 14 years.  It was such a sudden passing.  On Tuesday she was fine…  doing all her regular stuff and getting into mischief as usual, but on Wednesday we found her lying still unable to move… barely breathing.  She kept reaching her paw out towards us and no sound would come out of her little mouth.  Fiona and I just sat with her– trying to make her comfortable.  We set up an appointment with the vet but she passed away 15 minutes before seeing the visit.

Oh how we will miss her.  She was such a loving part of our family.

My four year old daughter, Fiona is taking it the hardest.  She repeats over and over, “Molly is dead.  Mommy, I have to go to the dr’s to get her”.

Making sense of the spirit-body dichotomy was really difficult for Fiona to understand.

Grieving is hard for adults let alone little children who are trying to make sense of what is unimaginable in their minds.

We’ve been trying a few things to help ourselves and Fiona through this time.  Hope this helps others, as well.

• Acknowledge it hurts.  When someone we love is not with us anymore it hurts.  Sometimes there is not much more to do about that but to acknowledge it hurts.  We acknowledge it hurts and we hug Fiona and remind her that it hurts because we loved Molly so much, because she was such a special part of the family.  No one can replace Molly and we’ll always love her.  That’s one thing that will never change.
• Thanked and Blessed Molly.  At the veterinary clinic we took time to thank Molly for being a wonderful part of our family.  We thanked her for all the kitty kisses over the years…  for all her meows and purrs… for how she cuddled and cheered us up when we were feeling sick.  We blessed her and released her with peace & love.
• Story telling.  At home we shared our favorite stories of Molly with one another.  This gave us an opportunity to laugh and to smile and to cry with one another.  There were things we’d forgotten over the years and this opened our memories to remember the many wonderful times we had with Molly.
• Opened our imaginations.  We wholeheartedly believe in kitty heaven and we imagined together that Molly must be now free to run in wide open pastures with all the milk and kitty muffins (Fiona reminded us how Molly loved to eat blueberry muffins) to her heart’s content.  

And we will keep doing this over and over as we seek to comfort one another and remember our sweet Molly.  This is what you do in grief– you make places to remember with tenderness and some how we find ourselves on the path to healing.

I’m grateful that I get to go through this with my daughters and help them to be more compassionate to themselves and the world, as they learn to love even in letting go.

Yoga breathing, Steady & Calm

It’s been an incredibly full month.  I haven’t been to yoga class in over three weeks, but today it felt so good to get back in that hot, sweaty room and commit to just being there.  And I can tell ya folks, it wasn’t pretty.  It was a struggle.  I’ve been pretty fatigued these days and I didn’t really have the mental energy to really sustain postures like I hope, but I still felt as proud as a peacock, because I went and it centered me and got me back to the basics of breathing and calming my chaotic internal world.

I’m heading into some more transitions.  I start teaching a class in a few weeks and I also learned I need to start some prerequisites for my program in a few weeks, as well.  I feel a bit excited, but mostly I feel exhausted already in the preparation.  I realized that I have to really structure a schedule that upholds to feeding my soul and nurturing my tired body and mind.  Part of that structure will be getting to the yoga studio two times a week and that feels manageable for right now and a good way to keep practicing getting back to a steady pace and a calm heart.  

So here’s to keeping steady and calm and centered in myself– no matter what blustery season of busy-ness is ahead– I’m keeping my eyes on breathing.  

Secondary Trauma & Stuff

Y’all know I have a significant interest in issues of identity.  Much of my work around this involves joining women in their journey of finding their voice, what they really care about and who they are.  This trek includes many conversations around sexuality, race & ethnicity, family of origin and much more.  I find this to be thrilling and fascinating work.

When we work around issues of race & ethnicity I’ve found folks sharing with me many stories of how they have felt less-than, invisible, pressed down and shut out.  A great deal of this has to do with society as a whole– how we’ve placed significance and value around places of privilege.

I am in these stories regularly pulling back the layers, digging into deep places of shame and feelings of defeat.  In the individual these messages are internalized so deeply that it begins to erode a person’s sense of worth and beauty– it attempts to kill and destroy the creative, imaginative, passionate soul.  I use the word attempt because I’ve seen the strength and courage of the human spirit to rise above these messages.

All that to say, there are therapists out there like myself who seek to figure out ways to collaboratively join others in the telling of their stories.  Often times when topics of race come up it can stir up a significant amount of discomfort– whether we’re doing therapy or not to hear the accounts of others who have had experiences that are dehumanizing and inequitable can be difficult to hear.  And sometimes we just don’t want to believe that this is the world we live in– a world where these inequities still exist and continue to marginalize people.  The problem with getting stuck in that discomfort is that we have the tendency to invalidate another’s experience whether we do so directly with our words or in silence this can create further harm.

I read a research article entitled: A Qualitative Inquiry Into Racism, Trauma, and Coping: Implications for Supporting Victims of Racism.  The authors collected stories of 19 adults who shared accounts of racism.  The researchers found that the racist interactions and accounts were deeply traumatic and troubling to the individual’s identity.  These experiences led to all kinds of doubt and shame in the individual which was a significant psychological burden.  However, what the researchers found to be additionally problematic was what they called ‘secondary injuries or trauma’s’.  Secondary trauma is when an individual shares their story of a racist incident with someone they’ve perceived to be safe and they are met with disbelief, silence, denial and lack of support.

I’ve been thinking on this long and hard– how do we avoid secondary trauma?  How does it intersects with my training to ‘do no harm’.

What does that look like for you?  This is not just a question for therapists– we all come across these conversations in day-to-day life…  Discuss.

A moment of silence & meditation

This week I have been silent. I want to acknowledge the silence, as I remember all those affected by the tragedies in Boston & Texas.

This picture is a reminder to me the life that is still budding around us– even amidst tragedy & chaos. It has been an anchoring support.

These are the cherry blossoms of Seattle– this particular tree is outside the Buddhist temple in my neighborhood. They hang these beautiful flags in the trees– I’m not sure of the symbolism and meaning, but what it reminded me is a hope for freedom.

Change’s birthplace is Vulnerability

I loved watching this video today. It’s been on Ted Talks for awhile so you may have already saw it. I appreciate Brene’s vulnerability and humor in talking about something that is really so risky (and well vulnerable) as the topic of shame.

The main points that stood out to me we’re the following:

1) Know that Innovation, Creativity & Change happens at the birthplace of vulnerability.  Which means you have to take a risk to try and try again– no matter how much you fail or come up short– in order to self-actualize and change you must try again.

2) Shame is about what you believe about yourself.  a) that you’re never good enough and then once you’ve succeeded in believing in yourself shame lies in the question b) who do you think you are?

3) Shame is organized by gender in these two ways: for women: it is the idea that  you are to do it all, do it all perfectly and never let them see you sweat and for men: shame is– do not let them perceive you as weak.

Shame is dehumanizing and the ways in which we perpetuate shame in society tears at the very fabric of an individual’s self-worth and self-dignity.

We all suffer in shame.

In shame we see, higher incidents of self-harm through suicide, depression, eating disorders and addiction.

I am accustomed to being in communities where the value of an individual has been on the emphasis of success, achievement & productivity.  Perhaps that’s what we are all accustomed to in a driven, consumeristic culture, but I’ve found that I have no interest in this way of being in the world.  It’s not to say I don’t struggle with these realities– that I don’t have to ward off the struggles I have with privilege that a consumer environment affords me, but what I’ve found is that what is central to my values is this: authenticity, vulnerability and openness.

It essentially means we can come as we are, share our struggles and sorrows, joys and feats and still maintain a valued member of our community.  Shame has a little less power when we are able to honor these spaces.

This has not been my experience and I’ve fought and struggled to create new relationships and community that values this way of existing, as well.

This week has been a challenging week.  My mother who I mentioned in earlier posts has been very ill.  Since December she has had to be hospitalized several times and now she is back at Harborview.

My mom has struggled with Lupus.  Lupus often attacks all the organs in an individual’s body– including the brain.  They call this lupus cerebritis.

It has been difficult to watch her go through this.

We’ve been working with every specialist you can imagine from the psychiatric team to the neurological team to the rheumotolgists and so on…

There is shame in brain and mental health disorders…  There is shame in lacking resources.  There is shame in the failure of getting the correct treatments.

So I thought I’d take the vulnerable step and share the shame.  It feels a little less powerful and in the weakening of that shameful power it opens the door, if ever so slightly, the possibility to try again.

A new adventure ahead

A few weeks I learned that I was accepted into a doctoral program in an International Psychology program.  The concentration of my research will be on women & trauma.  The Chicago School’s program is one of kind– I’ve seen nothing else out there like it.  Depending on the direction & concentration of my research on women & trauma I will be traveling to our international partner sites to conduct field study.  This opens up a plethora of pathways for partnerships, learning and expansion on the research I’ve been dreaming about for years.  

All that to say, I will still be blogging & writing.  I imagine that my posts will include many of my thoughts on the research, stories, statistics– blah-blah-blah.  I hope to keep it relevant and interesting.  I want to use this space to keep expanding dialogue.  

Lately I’ve been asked why I do this work.  At some point I think I’ll be able to share more of my own personal story– as it is connected to the dialogue and the work, but for now I can share this–  I am passionate.

I am passionate about women.

I am passionate about the voices of women.

And I am unapologetic.

I have seen churches and schools and businesses and institutions and families, most established on systems of patriarchy, dismantle and undermine the development and freedom of the feminine voice.

I have been with women who have been literally beaten and smashed told that their only worth is that of serving the men in their lives.

I have sat across from women bruised and scarred from years of sexual abuse told that no place within themselves or their bodies is sacred or private or intimate or wholly their own.  

I have heard stories from women who have been told that real sacrifice has to do with compromising their own hopes, dreams, desires in service of others.  When feelings of confusion or disillusionment arise they are told that to dream or hold desire is to be selfish and self-serving.  Thus, leading them to believe that to be ‘good’ is to let go of any personal hope or dream.

And so you see, I am passionate about joining women in finding and freeing their beautiful voice– a voice full of wisdom, insight, purpose, laughter, sorrow, joy, vision and hope.  

And so I hope to continue to expand my understanding and my awareness through this research to create spaces of safety and healing that will ultimately lead to liberation and realization of the feminine voice.  

This is not an easy or quick work.  I am reminded of this through Caroline Knapp’s writings.  In her book Appetites, Knapp says:

“Defining desire in new ways is achingly complicated, painstaking work; it requires developing a vision that runs counter to consumerism, counter to a corporate an political culture that’s still tightly structured to meet male needs, perhaps even counter one’s own deeply-ingrained assumptions…Anything that connects you–to the body, to the self, to other women–can free.  Anything that frees may also feed”.

It’s a three-year program, but really this is my life’s work and I’m thrilled to embark on this next leg of the journey!