Choose to Risk

The following poem, by Dr. Dawna Markova, expresses beautifully the expansiveness of spirit, the passion for healing, I feel all around me these days.  So fabulous, I just needed to share it...to scatter it further out into the universe.




I will not die an unlived life.
I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid, more accessible,
to loosen my heart until it becomes
a wing, a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance,
to live so that which came to me as seed

goes to the next as blossom
and that which came 

to me 

as blossom

goes on as fruit.

~ Dawna Markova

Rethinking the Feminist Position on Choice

While doing some research on freshmen trends for a class I teach, I ran across a 40 year trending report published by the Cooperative Institutional Research Program [CIRP], a project of the Higher Education Research Institute out of UCLA.  CIRP surveys 300,000 incoming freshmen annually, at over 600 colleges and universities nationwide.  

Buried among much fascinating data I found a graph depicting the shift in student views on abortion.  The question asked was a simple yes or no question, "Should abortion be legal?"  It was not confounded by nuances like health of the mother, pregnancy as the result of rape, number of weeks to viability, parental consent or issues of the various medical procedures.

There's a myth among women of my and my mother's generation - the generations that actively fought for women's rights, including control over one's own reproductive system:  today's women - the GenX and GenY women - don't get involved in the issue of choice because they perceive the matter as settled.  Such a belief, if true, would indicate that most women are comfortable and have acclimated themselves to the existence of an abortion option.

This chart belies that belief.  

Just for grins, I decided to see what today's women are talking about.  What I found surprised me - putting aside altogether the arguments of the religious right - two opposing but feminist positions.  I'm going to lay them out and then posit that we need to dialogue ourselves to a third, more equitable position.

The first, the one I am most familiar with, was the one rung out with the full feminist furry of my generation, the pro-choice position: 

A woman's ability to exercise her full citizenship rights requires her to be able to determine when and if she wants to have children.  Anything less relegates her - without choice - to the kitchen.

The other, more current, opposing feminist, pro-life perspective: 

The idea that women need the option of abortion in order to participate fully in society outside the home in fact is dictated by a male-centered world view that values commerce more than motherhood.  

To speak the pro-choice position another way, if women are to be valued in the workplace, we must free ourselves of the women's work of motherhood that splits our loyalties between our children and our jobs, freeing us to work with as singular a purpose as any male toward society's goals, whatever they be.  

To speak the pro-Iife position another way, if, to be rewarded with opportunity and money like men in a man's world, we perceive the need to give up or perhaps put aside - for now? for ever?  - the very thing that makes us uniquely women - the ability to carry children - then abortion is a solution that accommodates a male-dominated - not a feminist - view of the world. 

I find I am strongly drawn to the rationale of the latter view, while yet denying that the right solution is the outlaw of choice.  I prefer a third viewpoint, "reproductive justice," that emerged first from the Black Women's caucus in 1994, and has since been put into succinct language by an organization called the Asian Communities for Reproductive Justice:

"Reproductive  justice  exists when  all people  have  the economic,  social  and  political  power,  and  resources  to  make  healthy decisions  about  our bodies, sexuality and reproduction for ourselves,  our families,  and our  communities."   

SisterSong, a reproductive justice movement (and much more), illuminates this idea, 

"Human rights provide more possibilities for our struggles than the privacy concepts the pro-choice movement claims only using the U.S. Constitution. Reproductive justice emerged as an intersectional theory highlighting the lived experience of reproductive oppression in communities of color. It represents a shift for women advocating for control of their bodies, from a narrower focus on legal access and individual choice (the focus of mainstream organizations) to a broader analysis of racial, economic, cultural, and structural constraints on our power."

For me, this perspective makes sense for all women, regardless of skin color.  The good fight for the right to make choices about my own reproductive path still has to be made in the court system, of course.  But in a way, my generation's perspective was one deeply embedded in the male world view - one in which we felt the path to success was paved by the opportunity to put aside child-rearing in order to do what - they - men - were doing.  Still, that left us with gut-wrenching choices about parenting versus getting ahead.


As I reread my own writing, I am bothered by the mere fact that I identify the possibility of "getting ahead" as an alternative to parenting.

My friends and I experienced these choices repeatedly and painfully.  Some could afford nannies but still anguished over what they missed.  Most, including me, couldn't afford or didn't want a nanny to sub for us.  We used day care, or worked part time, regardless of the loss of income.  


Personally, I wrestled with it the best I could.  I hurried a wedding and put off law school when I discovered I was pregnant.  By the time I got to law school, I was single again.  I took only those classes that did not interfere with my children's school schedules.  I took a reduction in pay at my first job in exchange for the guilt-free freedom to come and go for my children's assorted needs, even though I put in as many hours as everyone else in my firm - many of those hours from home, after my girls slept.   Later, I slowed and eventually put my practice aside - gave away excellent clients - to care for my adolescent children when their lives got complicated and they needed me.  


Their father never saw any of this as his role.   Today, like many, many women, my lifetime earnings, my career path, my current work are all impacted by the choices I made.  Their father's earnings, career path and current work were not impacted by parenting obligations.

This is wrong-headed and oh, so short-sighted.  Bearing children is the path of survival for our species, and women are uniquely gifted with the ability to bear our future.  Yet, society has not figured out a way to reduce the conflict between bearing and caring for children, and taking an active, participatory monetarily rewarded role in the workforce, in policy-making, in communal and national leadership.  


It's a good thing baby-making is an instinctive urge, because if more and more women simply shook the urge in order to have what men have, society would eventually wither away.


There are those who will read this and cry foul.  They will say that they've managed to have brilliant careers and feel very good about their parenting too.  And I applaud all of you who've managed that.  But the numbers belay.  Click this sentence to read a study that shows women's but not men's income is negatively impacted by childbirth.  Click this sentence to read a study that shows the lifetime earnings gap between men and women continues despite the progressively larger number of female entrants into many fields.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm still all for choice.  I'm simply saying, we need to rethink the rationale we've accepted for needing choice, and work toward a system of commerce that embraces true choice - the choice that rewards women for being vibrant, active, fully rewarded societal participants, with or without children.   

YOUTH, SPEAK OUT!

With the National Conference on Citizenship being held at A.S.U. this week, it seems a good time to write about the future of citizenship, something I explore each semester in "NLM 160: Voluntary Action and Community Leadership," an introductory nonprofit class I'm teaching for the second year at Arizona State University.

My class is mostly full of 18 and 19 year olds, with a smattering of older students.  When I was asked to teach this course, I was charged with the hope-filled task of exciting my students to the power of volunteerism to change the world, so much so that they want to remain volunteers for the rest of their lives.

Although power of participation in the political realm is not the only volunteerism we will study this semester, the first thing we read in this class is Russell Dalton's "The Good Citizen: How a Younger Generation is Reshaping American Politics."

In other words, they're reading about themselves.

Before I share more of what Dalton has to say about this generation of citizens, I want to describe my class.  To start with, it's large.  This semester I have about 60.  One semester, I had maybe 75 students.

It's very enlightening to have a large class.  Even though, looking around the room, checking their dress, their backpacks, their cell phones and laptops and mp3 players, it would be easy to jump to the conclusion that these kids are all cut from one mold, one of the first things we discover in this class is just how different we all are.  Learning about our differences, yet seeing ourselves as a community, is the very stuff of democracy.

One of the semester's first exercises asks the students to circle each demographic they fall into on a chart containing an assortment of categories touching race, gender, ethnicity, religion, athletic ability, attractiveness, weight, sexual identity, disability and more.   I use a slightly edited chart borrowed from Maurianne Adams, Lee Anne Bell and Pat Griffin's text, "Teaching for Diversity and Social Justice."  As I called each of the 30 or so categories, students who are willing to self-identify are invited to rise.  The complexity of our class make-up became clear.

The exercise always pushes the envelope.  While a few students will decide not to acknowledge one or more of their demographic identities, most do.  We discuss the ways each of these demographic categories creates opportunities and privileges, and the ways in which each category might create obstacles.  For example, being Latino creates rich cultural opportunities, but some of my Latino students say they find it intimidating to live in Arizona after the passage of SB 1070.  

The exercise gives us a chance to talk about identities we can't hide.  We can hide our sexual identity, but we cannot hide the color of our skin.  We can hide our ethnic background, but we cannot hide our gender.  

The exercise also gives us an opportunity to explore the concept of labels.  The demographics chart asks students to identify themselves as Black, White, Native American, Hispanic, etc.  I always ask these students, after they're standing up, whether they are comfortable with the labels on this chart.  Labels are a touchy subject, and racial labels have changed many times in my own lifetime.  When I was small, "Negro" was still a politically correct term.  I believe "African American" is still currently politically correct, but sometimes my students say that they don't relate to the "African" part.  They feel American.  Pure and simple.  It's my understanding that "Native American" is still politically correct, but some of my students in Arizona prefer to refer to themselves as "Indians."

At some point along the line, I changed "Hispanic" to "Latino" on the chart because so many of my students with Spanish-speaking origins rejected the term "Hispanic."  Often, the Latino students want to be recognized for their family's country of origin, Puerto Rico, Cuba, Mexico, Argentina.  Cultural pride is alive and well.  This year, one of my students said he did not prefer the term "Latino," and wanted to be called "Hispanic."  Labels are very personal.  We prefer to select our own.

Oh, and of course, after hearing this discussion, my "White" students want to point out that their skin isn't white.  And that the term "Caucasian" doesn't really apply either.

"The Caucasus are somewhere near Russia, right?  My family is from Italy."

I have discovered that many students are remarkably brave.  One semester, a woman stood to the term, "gender queer."  While my students expect me to know everything, I had to screw up my own courage to admit I did not know the term's meaning, and to ask this woman to define the term for us.

Similarly, a small handful of students will stand up to the term, "overweight."  The first thing I notice is that this makes the rest of us uncomfortable.  It feels like some sort of public humiliation, because being overweight is considered a character flaw in our country.  But students have been given express permission not to stand unless they wish to.  And, some students who clearly are overweight do not stand up.  The students who stand want to stand.  They do not want to be invisible just because of some media image of acceptability.  Over the semesters, some students have commented that they have shaken off the norm, have come to love and accept themselves.  These words are refreshing, and free the rest of us from our embarrassment.  Later, it will turn out that the ability to speak them aloud is also freeing for the student who does.

This year I have a deaf student who does not stand up when I call the category, "disabled."  He sits in the front row where he can see two signers, looking at me intently, maybe challenging me?  Had he kept his head down, his gaze averted, I would have known that he did not want to talk about this.  But his bold stare told me otherwise.   I turned to him and ask him, "You look like you want to comment.  You've chosen not to stand.  I'm interested in whether you'd like to talk about your choice."  Through his interpreters, he eloquently explained that he does not see himself as disabled.  He does not let his condition get in the way of his achievement - ever.  He is as inspiring as E.T. jumping through the moon, or Lance Armstrong taking an impossible hill.

This year, I am surprised by a young woman who stands up for "Other" and says she is an orphan without a family.  She has been in and out of foster homes.  There is one foster family with whom she still spends holidays, but they don't feel exactly like parents.  She tells about her determination to get an education and to help others whose stories are similar to her own.  The class is very hushed for this story.  Most of us cannot imagine a world without some sort of family, at least one caring parent.

What does all this have to do with citizenship and civic dialogue?  My students walk into the room thinking they are part of a pretty homogeneous group.  As they hear each other's stories and begin to look at the world through widely differing eyes, they are readying themselves for civic dialogue that is empathetic, compassionate, and more inclusive.

One of the ways I make a conversation about diversity safe is by speaking out loud what other people only think - speaking in normal tones and with obvious curiosity.  As the instructor, my speaking makes it acceptable for others to talk about issues that our society generally considers taboo.  I learned this skill not in diversity class, but while raising my daughters.  I forced myself to discuss sexuality in the same tone of voice I discussed weekend activities, food preparation, art projects.  This made sexuality a safe and "normal" topic of conversation.  My goal:  later, when my daughters needed to discuss sexuality, I hoped it would be easier for them to raise the subject.  Today I have a similar goal in mind:  to make it easier for my students to dialogue about differences respectfully.  To realize they should not make assumptions.  To be brave enough to ask the questions that are on their minds.  

As the stories of identity flow, the bravery is contagious and more are told.  They are fascinating.  We start to run out of time, and I tell them we need to wrap up.  Several students say, "You forgot to call out the religions."  I do it in a rush.  Several stand when I say "Other."  I ask, "What is your religion?"  A couple of them say atheist or agnostic or secular.

Three say they are Catholic.  I say, "I wish we had time to discuss why you did not see yourselves as Christian.  I'm Jewish," I tell them, "and you all look alike to me."  They laugh.

After class, I take attendance by asking students to put their names on a piece of paper, and also to write down the most important thing that they heard this day.

Later, at home, I read their attendance slips.  One student says, I learned from the overweight student that it's ok to like myself the way I am."  Several students say they are amazed by the determination and attitude of the deaf student.  A couple comment on the incredible strength and drive of the woman who is also an orphan.  Many say they really enjoyed hearing all the stories.   They report respect and new understandings.

An overweight student writes, "Thank you for making it safe to talk about my weight. I've never done that before."

My gender queer student says it was good to be asked about herself.  These girls make me cry.  They all - all these students - make me proud to teach them.

~ ~

Now we have a good idea of all the ways we are different from each other.  In the reading, we now explore, through data sets analyzed by Dalton, how despite our differences, they share similarities with their generation that distinguish them from their parents and grandparents before them.  They are learning that their generation is not less engaged than their parents' generation.  Rather, their generation is differently engaged.  Sometimes, when we talk about this, I fantasize about playing Chicago's Teach Your Children Well.

According to Dalton, the younger generation practices what he calls "civic engagement," or a more personal, hands-on, less political approach to activism.  They volunteer in their own communities, they help neighbors, they join social networks.  They feel these activities have a far greater impact than voting.  They believe this is the better way to make a difference, while communicating with distant officials feels rather, well, distant.  They don't really believe older people will hear or understand them anyway.

Their parents' and grandparents' generations, by contrast, are more "duty" oriented.  They vote.  They support candidates.  They call their elected officials when they don't like policy.  Stuff like that.

On another day early in the semester I put up big sheets of poster paper, each marked with a different activity that might be associated with good citizenship in the United States.  Activities like,

Regularly Vote In Elections,

Accept Jury Duty Willingly,

Always buy American,

Never Break the Law,

Report a Crime if I See One,

Plan To or Do Serve in the Military,

Buy Green Products Whenever Possible,

Help Other Americans Less Well Off than I Am

Volunteer Regularly

Work on Political Campaigns

Take Active Leadership Roles

Form Your Own Political Opinions

Never Evade Taxes

Keep a Watch On Government

Help Those Worse Off Around the World

Join Community Groups

I ask my students to come up to the front of the class, where I have a selection of sticky dots, in Red, Blue, Yellow and Green.  I have them take a sheet of dots that most closely represents their political affinity.  Red if they most closely relate to Republican, Conservative or Tea Party ideals.  Blue if they most closely relate to Democrat, Liberal or Progressive ideals.  Yellow if they think of themselves as most closely aligned with Independents.  Green if they see themselves as "something other" or do not want to reveal their preferences.

I ask them to walk from poster to poster, putting a colored dot on only those posters that they feel strongly about, that speak strongly to the way they live their lives.  I tell them we are doing living research, and to group their own dots with other dots of the same color, so that we will easily be able to see our results.

When we finish, we are surprised to find that, in fact, very few of my students feel strongly about voting.  Few of my students feel compelled to report a broken law, or to obey the law themselves a hundred percent of the time.  Almost all believe in helping others less fortunate, whether overseas or at home.  A majority of them already volunteer.  Maybe a third try to Buy American.

I stop the conversation to get on my soapbox about the double-duty of buying American.  It helps maintain jobs, and it also reduces our carbon output because overseas transportation is a high carbon activity.

This semester, only three of my 60 or so feel strongly enough about military service to dot it - similar to the results in prior semesters.  This stops the class short.  We talk about taking for granted that there will be an army to protect us.  We wonder whether this class - as diverse as we now realize we are - is truly representative of today's young people.  Someone asks whether there is a correlation between wanting an education, and avoiding the military.  This is a great question, and I can't answer it.   Several students have family members who are in the service, and they speak of supporting the soldiers, but not the military.  The three students who do, have, or plan to serve in the military speak in defense of their choices, and the students ask them respectful questions.

My students are passionate about their views, but also intellectually captured by the explanations they give each other about their differences.  High levels of dedication to volunteering, helping a neighbor, being active in clubs and groups, buying green products, forming their own political opinions bear out some of what Dalton is telling them in their readings.  It proves to me that these students are far from disengaged, even if most of them don't vote regularly.

When the time comes to end the discussion, it is difficult to stop them.  Later, in their attendance statements, they will let me know, even the ones too shy to speak out in class, that this exercise was an eye-opener.

"Those dots really laid it out.  You can't fool yourself about what's happening in my generation after you see that."

Before they leave, I am upfront about my bias.  Both brands of citizenship play important roles in a healthy Democracy.  However, I would like to convince them that voting makes a bigger difference than they think it does.  I hope - if there's one thing I can change about their view on political activism this semester - it will be to drive home the importance of exercising their vote as a powerful tool to give voice to their generation's deep concern for their fellow human beings.  

Why should I pay more taxes than some lazy good for nothing?

Leonard Burman

Q: WHY DO WE TAX SUCCESS?

I am sorry I worked hard and took risks big time and now have capital gains. Why should I pay more taxes then some lazy good for nothing who cant show up for work on time and hold a job. And I can move my capital easily where i can get a more favorable tax situation. Problem with most economist like you is they live in academia and not the real world. What this country needs is one tax rate for all Americans and not the cureent tas rates that tax success and risk. W/o investment job growth is stagnant or worse and GDP tanks. Federal, state and local spending just isnt there to bail the economy out. And govt spending is inefficient and riddled with corpuption. Stop taxing success.

A:  LEONARD BURMAN

I applaud you for working hard and taking risks. However, a lot of the difference in income is due to luck. I'm paid way more than my dad because I had great parents and was smart enough to get a lot of education. Other people aren't born with those advantages. I'm perfectly happy to pay higher taxes so that hard working people without my advantages can get a break.

I lifted that segment from a Washington Post Q & A about the impact of Capital Gains tax with Leonard Burman, because the question captures the baseless hatred of one American for another - a divisive hatred that threatens to tear our country apart.  Americans who espouse it appear to be mindlessly buying into a blame theory that tosses the pain associated with our current economy at the doorstep of the less fortunate.

Burman, a Daniel Patrick Moynihan Professor of Public Affairs at the Maxwell School of Syracuse University, an affiliated scholar at the Urban Institute, and research associate at the National Bureau of Economic Research and senior research associate at Syracuse University’s Center for Policy Research, handled the question very deftly.  

Though his answer satisfied me, I doubt seriously it caused the caller to do anything other than scoff at Burman.

To read the rest of the Q&A, which was more focused on tax policy, click here.

You may not believe, as Burman does, that much of personal financial success is due to luck - lucky to have a set of parents who value higher education and make it available to their kids, for example.  Someone else might feel he or she is totally self-made.  I know a man whose parents brought him up in a modest blue collar household.  My friend is shrewd, figured out how to build a small empire, and is now a wealthy man.  Clearly, both scenarios exist.   The truth, however, is that the vast majority of Americans have rather modest means at the same time they have an excellent work ethic.  

Check this assortment of careers and the national average salaries that go with them:   


$22,000 - line cook, window glass cutter
$28,000 - ambulance driver, hair stylist
$34,000 - administrative assistance, warehouse worker
$40,000 - academic adviser, aircraft electrician
$60,000 - advertising account exec, entry aerospace engineer
$85,000 - software developer, real estate appraiser
$100,000 - dean of business school, regional sales manager
$150,000 - human resource director, research fellow


You can check out the national average salary rate for nearly any job you can think of by clicking this sentence.


Now tell me, do you believe your hair stylist, cheerfully listening to your problems despite being on her feet all day, is a laggard just because her annual salary might be under $30,000?   


And about manning those huge professional restaurant stoves till sweat pours off you like water?  Does that sounds lazy?  


And I want to believe the fellow driving the ambulance is intentional, caring and fast!   


At these salary levels, the hairdresser, the ambulance driver, the line cook, the warehouse worker are likely to be struggling to achieve a full life - full in the sense of achieving all the basics Americans want, from health insurance to mortgage payments to little league and dance lessons for their kids.  It's not hard to imagine that these Americans may feel squeezed - like there's never quite enough.   


Clearly these people are not the "lazy, good for nothings who can't show up for work on time and hold a job,"  Burman's caller assumes people without adequate means must be.  And they are the people assisted by a progressive tax structure.  


My worry is that a large chunk of American have bought into the Ayn Rand mantra - we are all equal in opportunity simply because we were all born in America."   The wrong-headed correlary: Those who don't manage to get ahead of the economic treadmill must be lazy.   This invokes a blame mentality that pits American against American rather than focusing us on collaboratively solving our nation's economic woes.  


Woe unto us if we do not open our eyes to each other's reality, be there for one-another as fellow Americans, even in our approach to the tax code.

Lifting Up the Holy Sparks: Healing From Within

I accidentally pulled up this old post from my other blog, EcoCurious, written before I decided to separate my writings by topic into multiple blogs.  As I read this post, I barely recalled writing it.  But, here we are, just this side of Rosh Hashana, and the beginning of the Jewish Holy Days, and I cannot but think I was supposed to reread it.  And possibly reshare it. 


We began by talking about kosher wines, and how they could possibly compete in taste if the method of koshering wines involved boiling the grapes, but somehow my friend Mike Altman and I veered from that to whether the Jews believe in an afterlife, and from that to the mitnagdim and the hasidim, two competitive Jewish sects that lived in Europe during the 18th Century. The mind does wander. 


The mitnagdim were traditional Jews, and the label, "mitnagdim," means "opponents," I believe. The thing they were opposed to was the sharp rise of new hasidic sects under a Jewish mystic affectionately called "The Baal Shem Tov," or "Master of the Good (Divine) Name."

The fight between the mitnagdim and the hasidim (which means pious) was, from time to time vicious. The crux of the fight was the primacy of mind versus heart as the path to God. The mitnagdim were very traditional, and stressed the intense study of Torah and Talmud (a Jewish text containing a cross-generational discussion among learned Jewish scholars enabling later generations to continue to learn from earlier scholars). Their founder, a rabbi from Vilna called the Vilna Gaon, had supposedly learned to recite the entire Talmud by seven years of age, and was said to have studied 18 hours daily. Over the years, it became custom for rich men to wed their daughters to prominent Torah scholars, and then to support the son-in-law's family so he could continue his studies. In poorer circumstances, wives sometimes worked to support the family so that the husband could forebear from work in order to continue to learn.

Of course, I wasn't there, but stories about The Baal Shem Tov say he offered Jewish mysticism to the masses as a substitute for intense study. He did this because many of the people realized they would never be in a position to pursue the sort of intense dedication to study that mitnagdim rabbis said was necessary for a true and meaningful relationship with God.   The Baal Shem Tov roused his followers through music, dance, meditation, stories of miracles and other rituals into spiritual states, similar in effect to the sufi whirling ceremony or the sun dance ceremony of certain native american groups. 

The mitnagdim believed that the Ba'al Shem Tov's ideas would cause Jews to cease to pursue the texts, weakening the very foundation of the religion over time. Mysticism, for the mitnagdim, was to be limited to the very few truly righteous among them. In fact, the practice of mysticism among the mitnagdim was almost cultish, in a Free Mason sort of way. To participate, one had to be very learned, righteous, married, over 40 and have a sponsor/teacher. The feud was, in some cases, truly bitter.

There are still descendents of the two groups. I may be wrong, but I believe Aish, a strong Jewish outreach organization, has its theological roots in the mitnagdim, while the Lubovitch, a sect of hasidim with an outpost in nearly every city and on nearly every campus, are descendents of The Ba'al Shem Tov. Interestingly, these two groups today have nearly identical goals - reaching out to Jews who are somewhat lost or disconnected from Judaism - and have moved closer to each other theologically, as the study of the texts has taken a more prominent place in the Hasidic teachings. Even so, Aish, like the mitnagdim of the 18th Century, eschews mysticism for all but a select few, while the Lubovitch still make the rudiments of mysticism available in the form of stories, music, meditative practices, to all.

I give you this little bit of Jewish history because one of the more entertaining things (to me) about my own brain is the way it often connects seemingly disconnected things.  Below, I've shared with you a talk given by Jill Bolte Taylor, a neuroscientist. Several years ago, she suffered a stroke that basically disabled the left lobe of her brain, and left her functioning about 95 percent from her right lobe. The distinction between her left and right brain functions, as she describes this in the video, strikes me as much the same as the distinction between the mitnagdim and the hasidim.  The left brain ties the mind to the concrete and the rational, while the right brain "dissolves" into the broader universe in an intense, loving and spiritual way.  Jill Bolte Taylor, in describing her right brain experience, uses terms like peacefulness, euphoria, and "at one with all the energy that was." By the same token, she could not intellectually separate herself from her surroundings, could not identify or hold onto the meaning of words against the background noises in the space she physically occupied. Meanwhile, the five percent of her left brain function that remained kept abruptly emerging into consciousness long enough, in what she thought of as a "wave of clarity," to say, "hey, you've got to pay attention; something's wrong, you've got to get help."

Ultimately, she experienced these feelings of "expansiveness" and "enormity" and "peacefulness" as nirvana. And further, she realized that the right brain held the key to peace among humankind, if only we could work on harnessing it. But, aha! We need the left brain to do the harnessing and directing. 

Bear with me while I explain the connection between the mitnagdim and the hasidim, Jill Bolte Taylor's left and right brain functions, Judaism, and world peace.  LOL (that's "laughing out loud," Mom).  Yes, it's all connected. 

At some level, I see in all this a metaphor for what it will take to accomplish human peace-making and even saving the planet from our greedier selves. Clearly for believing Jews, connection to the Holy is a key tenant of our religion. Our "job," as Jews, is tikkun olam, or healing the earth (that includes its occupants). An incredible Jewish mystic, Isaac Luria (1524 - 1572) explained the creation of the universe as an intentional creation by God, who previous to the creation existed as formless energy. God, according to Luria, wanted more - maybe needed more - and so created the physical world.  Metaphorically (it has to be metaphorical because otherwise how could we, simple mortals, grasp this?), God's creation is a "physical vessel" into which God poured Divine energy to bring it to life, so to speak. The problem is that the physical is no match for the energy of God, and the energy burst the vessel, spewing shards of vessel everywhere. These shards are imbued with sparks of Divine, the same Divine that was poured into the vessel, attaching themselves to the shards upon shattering. These shards became  material matter (remember, we are metaphoring), but because they are imbued with the sparks of Divine energy, they are also "of God" and holy.  It is our human job to live life in a way that enables us to gather these shards and "liberate" the sparks of holiness within them, to lift the sparks up to their former holy selves, so to speak. This is the task that, by another name, we call tikkun olam, or healing the world.

The urge to liberate and lift the sparks, while having genesis in the spiritual/mystical, must be actualized physically. Liberating and lifting the sparks can take many forms.  One such form of physical actualization is taught in one of the central prayers of the Jewish liturgy, the Ve'ahavta, from Deuteronomy 6. I wrote here, http://ecocuriosity.blogspot.com/2009/08/curiosity-got-me.html,  about the connection of the Ve'ahavta to tikkun olam/healing the world, but in a nutshell, the passage tells us that we need to keep all of our physical senses and abilities focused on the game all the time. The relevent passage is here:

"5 And thou shalt love the LORD thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. 6 And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be upon thy heart; 7 and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thy house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. 8 And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thy hand, and they shall be for frontlets between thine eyes. 9 And thou shalt write them upon the door-posts of thy house, and upon thy gates."

Healing in the natural world is both physical and spiritual.  As a physical act of healing, it might manifest as something like cleaning up an environmental spill.  As a spiritual act of healing, one might empower a child to believe in her talents.  Sometimes, an act of healing can be both physical and spiritual, like when we participate in micro-funding programs that enable the poor in third world countries to become small-time entrepreneurs, giving physical sustainance, power in the material world and a spiritual lift for both the lender and borrower. In other words, these mystical concepts have very powerful real-world repercussions. Like Jill Bolte Taylor realized when she acknowledged that she needed her left brain to harness her right brain, it is important to realize that tikkun olam requires not just the mystical, spiritual urge to liberate the sparks from the shards and to heal the world, but the concrete teachings of the texts, like the Ve'ahavta, to help us know how to act.

 Jill Bolte Taylor, by sharing her experience, seems to be offering us a kind of a knowledge gift from God, a living, scientific proof in Taylor's experience that healing the world is entirely possible - because the spiritual healing capacity is within us all - and if we can figure out how to harness it - peace is within our grasp.  To get the full possibility and power of what I mean when I say this, I urge you to listen to Jill Bolte Taylor's talk.





More about The Baal Shem Tov: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baal_Shem_Tov
More about the mitnagdim: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Misnagdim
More about Isaac Luria's Kabbalah: http://www.sparknotes.com/philosophy/kabbalah/section9.rhtml
Hasidic Stories:  http://tzaddikim.blogspot.com/

Conflict: Tips to Come Out Looking Good.

Picture from Wikipedia Commons

This month, the stars seem misaligned.  Conflict and fighting seem suddenly rampant - between friends and within organizations - not just among nations.  I'm not an astrology person, but so it feels in my gut.

For example, last month I ended a Facebook friendship because - even though it wasn't aimed at me - I couldn't face any more of this person's hurtful modus operandi - attack first and ask questions later.  A couple of weeks ago, I heard a tale about a set of organizations, coming together to work toward a greater good, that dissolved, instead, into a back-biting conflict, undermining the work of the collaboration.  Now, before they can apply their time to good works, they will first have to spend many hours rebuilding trust.

I'm not immune, either.  This week, I had a raw, unexpected fight with a woman who is both a colleague and a close friend.

And I've been attempting all week, more or less unsuccessfully, to dodge a second battle raging among another set of friends.

If there truly was an Athena, the Greek Goddess of War but also of Philosophy, she would be shaking her head sadly.  Athena, unlike her brother Ares, is not associated with the violence of war, but instead with the discipline of strategy.  Despite filling the occasional role of "warrior maiden," she preferred to settle disputes with wisdom.  She encouraged fighting only as a tool of last resort.

Here's another popular local theory:   "It's the heat."   

I don't buy that any more than I buy the astrology explanation.  What I do believe is that we are in difficult times.  People's work and life situations are in economic and therefore social crisis.  The three pillars of skill, experience and relationship are no longer enough to ensure a secure stool upon which to rest your life.  Competition for jobs, resources and opportunity has become fierce.  If you're an organization, the change-up in the funding game is frightening.  Nerves - at every level - are frayed.  Tattered nerves equal short fuses, bad judgment, strained relationships.  Conflict.


I've had somewhere between four and five hundred hours - I eventually stopped counting - of conflict training.  I train others in conflict management, believe I handle conflict fairly well, and, like Athena, am not afraid to face conflict when necessary.

But, as this week proves, I don't always avail myself of my own skill set.  It is more difficult to step back and strategize when the conflict becomes personal, or when I find myself unexpectedly in the middle of the fracas.

When that happens, I feel as icky, messy, unwashed as someone without any training whatsoever.

Poorly handled conflict - especially when public - can be downright humiliating.  It has ramifications beyond the immediate issue because it sends a message to the community about our ability to handle ourselves.  

We all want to be seen as someone who has their act together.

Self-reflection is a great growth tool.  After discussing all this recent conflict with the same friend I fought this week - talking it out safely is a great thing about true friendship - I decided to sit back and review some conflict skills.

And, because the pressure of these times ramps up the heat for personal and professional conflict, I thought I might share.

First, recognize your conflict style.  There are different ways of dealing with conflict:  avoidance, accommodation, competition, compromise, and collaboration.  Perhaps you recognize yourself or a frequent protagonist in one of the descriptions below.  Second, you can learn skills to enable you to acquit yourself honorably in a conflict.  I've given a few tips below for each style.

~  ~  ~

Avoidance:   Usually, the root cause is actual discomfort with conflict.  Other times, you may look the other way when something goes down against your wishes because of a power imbalance.  Like when the person on the other side of the disagreement is your boss or has control of something you want. Either way - discomfort with conflict or fear of losing leverage - avoidance almost never works out well.  While there are times to pick and times to avoid a battle, if an issue is important, it pays to learn techniques for wading out into conflict without tipping the boat completely over.

Here is a strategy I use when fear is pushing me to avoid but I know I shouldn't:

Move toward the conflict with an open mind, asking questions.   Instead of coming at it with your point of disagreement, start by saying something like, "Help me to understand your thinking on this approach to...."  Then really listen before jumping in.  Maybe their approach solves a problem you didn't realize existed.  If so, you can say something like, "Well, I didn't realize that such-and-such was a problem.  I can see where your idea addresses it.  I'm wondering if we can find a way to address that problem without causing... [some other negative ramification you perceive in their approach]."

Now you're on the same team, problem-solving together.  You've become collaborators instead of opponents.

~  ~  ~

Accommodation:   Do you try so hard to respect the views of others that you - or others -  wonder whether you have a view point of your own?   Peace and being liked are excellent outcomes, but sometimes accommodation comes at the result of personal credibility or loss of something that really matters to you.  If you're a constant accommodator, a likely outcome over time is resentment.

Accommodation was exactly what led to the fight with my pal.  I chose to look the other way when she proposed something not in my personal best interest, because she's my friend and I simply wanted her to be happy.  Later, despite my intellectual decision, I discovered I was hurting because she hadn't taken my needs into consideration.

      Of course, how could she have known my needs?  I failed to express them.

Chris Argyris and Don Schon, authors of a set of theories on organizational behavior, say our actions frequently differ from the way we say we would like to act, because we adopt behaviors to preserve relationships.  If you're trying to accommodate someone, one probable reason is that you care about the relationship.  Realize that the other party to the relationship, whether work or personal, probably also highly values the relationship and will work with you to find mutually acceptable solutions.  Here's a better way of handling an urge to accommodate:

Look for mutuality in accommodation:  Simply say, "I really want to accommodate you because I know this is important to you.  I am worried about a couple of things, though.  May I share my concerns with you so we can figure out together how to accommodate both of our needs?"


I really, really wish I would have said something like that to my friend before our fight.  

~  ~  ~

Competitive:  If you find yourself pushing an issue regardless of how insignificant the stakes, you may be a Competitive.  If you've stopped making reasoned arguments and are, instead, throwing expertise or rank around, dropping names, hoping to get a credibility edge, you may be a Competitive.  Do you pride yourself in holding back a few points you can concede - points on matters about which you didn't actually disagree - just to make it look like you're being reasonable?  If someone accuses you of being all about winning, do you point back to those crumbs of concession?  When you've been cornered - do you make dismissive comments about your opponent or your opponent's position, wash your hands of the situation, and walk away?

Believe it or not, this kind of conflict has a place.  When all other options for conflict resolution have been exhausted and someone needs to fearlessly stand up for what is right, digging in with your heels might be necessary.  Or, when decision-making processes just go round and round in circles, someone has to make a decision for movement.  A person this self-confident can usually be counted upon to make the tough call.

Unfortunately, the downside of competitive conflict is that it rarely results in learning, which requires open-minded self-reflection.  Not, dig-your-heels-in defense tactics.  


And it often results in loss of relationships, because being unable to grant credibility to others is, in a way, the same as failure to accept your relationship or collaborative partners for who they are.  We all want acceptance. Trust is built around acceptance.  And failure to be able to see any credibility in another person's perspective leaves that person feeling like talking to you is talking to a wall.  They will not trust you to take their needs into account.  They will come to believe they cannot work with you.  Everybody loses.

Barbara Kellerman, author of several books on leadership, says there are five relational positions in an organization:  leader, follower, by-stander, isolate, activist and die hard.  Someone who is so competitive, sticks to his or her opinion regardless of what is best for the relationship or the group, is, with rare exception, not a leader.  He or she is a die-hard.  That's because a good leader must also be a good listener.  Followers will either follow willingly or they will surreptitiously move to undermine a "leader" whose values do not include concern and compassion for followers.  If you really want to succeed in bringing people around to your opinion, being a competitive die hard is not the way to gain influence.  Here's my advice:

Practice standing down.    Make a decision that for an entire day, you will simply listen.  Actively listen.  Practice inviting opinions and searching them for value.  Practice thanking people for sharing their thoughts, and voice the value of their opinion back to them without following the statement with a persuasive - or any - opinion of your own.  Practice being Zen-ish about having an opinion.  Let go and let it be ok not to have an opinion.   Eventually, when you get good at this work, try to integrate the new Zen you into your own opinionated behavior - exhibiting both opinion and appreciation for the opinions of others.

I predict that you will be pleasantly surprised by the results when you back up and give others space to have a valid opinion too.

~  ~  ~

Compromisers:  In the traditional conflict negotiation model, parties give up stuff to get other stuff.  In the end, usually both parties are equally miserable, but willing to live with the deal.  If you're a compromiser, chances are, you hate conflict because you always walk away feeling deprived.  The key, according to "Getting to Yes" experts Fisher, Ury & Patton, is to turn a conflict into a collaboration, rather than a compromise.  My advice here is the same advice I have given the Avoider. Move into the conflict asking questions, trying to ascertain the other person's or organization's needs.  Acknowledge those needs, and then enlist the other parties in working collaboratively to solve the problem in a way that meets both their needs and yours.  If you've sincerely acknowledged their needs, there will be the raw material of trust upon which you can begin building mutually satisfying solutions.

I don't mean to make this sound easy.  Building mutually satisfying solutions sometimes requires more than listening and trust-building.  It often requires people to park preconceived solutions  - what we in conflict management call their positions - long enough to explore the underlying interests their positions seek to satisfy.  Once the underlying interests are on the table, creativity can flow as the entire group seeks explore alternative solution ideas to get all parties' needs met.

~  ~  ~

Collaborators:  Collaborators know that working together to find solutions that accommodate all parties' valid interests will result in better, more durable solutions and better long-term working relationships.  If you're already a collaborator, congratulations!

But, in times like these, when people and institutions are stressed, you may find yourself in the middle of unexpected conflict, acting from a more guttural and less strategic position.   I hope that some of the tips above will move you along.  


Athena would be proud.

To Jody and Lisa, With Love

Last night on Chicago Hope, in an episode that was probably shown years ago, but which I am watching for the first time via hulu.com, Alan Birch, the hospital's lawyer, died of gunshot wounds.  Alan died leaving an ethical will, parts of which we were privileged to hear on the show.  I wish I could recall it for you, but of course, I was crying, not taking notes.

An ethical will is a third type of will.   A regular will disposes of belongings.  A medical will asserts your preferences regarding end-of-life care.  The ethical will, however, is a vehicle by which you may transmit those values you hold most dear to the people in your life whom you've also held most dear.

Not that those people - if they are children of a Jewish mother - haven't heard those values before, over and over.  Like a broken record.

It won't surprise my daughters to learn that I, too, have written an ethical will.  I wrote it for my daughters, almost exactly ten years ago, in case, God forbid...

Chicago Hope, however, prompted me - I really hadn't thought about the will since I wrote it.  Tonight it dawned on me that the ethical will was buried somewhere in my computer, and, God forbid, my daughters might never see it.  So, I decided to memorialize it here.  If anything happens to me, will someone please send my beautiful daughters the link to this blog post?

Pththth pththth...

Dated July 19, 2001

28 Tammuz, 5761

To my dearest, most beloved daughters,

The idea of an ethical will, a will bequeathing you not the materialistic leavings of my life, but instead bestowing a final Torah lesson and the thoughts of my heart, is a custom of our people, perhaps built upon the idea of the parental blessing at the deathbed.  Isn’t it like me to sneak in a final Torah lesson?

I feel blessed to have been your mother.  Clearly you girls have been the greatest of all of God’s gifts to me.  I have been blessed with the opportunity to care for you, to watch you grow from beautiful, open and curious children to become graceful, kind, capable, intelligent women.  But even more, through you I have been given a second and third chance to see life freshly through your eyes, to rethink the purpose and value of life in the clarity of my love for you.  And because you are so precious I learned with a special poignancy just how fragile and precious is each soul, and how great a gift is our time with one-another in this world.

As children we are turned inward, each toward her own needs, joys and fears.  Others seem to exist simply to meet our physical and social needs.  As we mature, how clear it becomes that the joy of any one person depends not upon the service of other souls, but upon reciprocal service, the intertwining of lives, the giving and getting of love, support, kind words and deeds.  In short – joy is a communal experience, a treasure bestowed upon each soul through meaningful linkage with other souls. 

I know each of you learned this lesson early, because you both have a strong love for your family, and valued and long-time friends in whom you have invested much of your hearts.  How much greater will your joy be, I therefore ask you, when you extend these practices to your extended family, your community of friends and the larger community of humanity with whom we share the planet Earth.  Each “reaching out” to another, whether friend or stranger, blesses your own life with many unforeseen riches.  Judaism provides me with a beautiful set of instructions for this sort of human interaction, and I pray that you, too, will find meaning and purpose here.

Honor father and mother and teacher.  Find the holy flame, the b’tzelem elohim in each person you meet.  Look for and connect with the higher soul of each human-being, and you will find that people respond to you from that place in themselves.  There is something to learn from every human being, even if it is only something about yourself.

Always take the opportunity to do gemilut chasadim.  Doing a kindness means so much more to the recipient than is apparent.  Visit the sick.  Comfort the grieving.  Rejoice with the bride and groom.  Smile from your eyes, as well as with your mouth.  Say the kind word that springs to your lips.  Really listen.  Really care.  Go out of your way.  Whatever these little acts cost in time, energy and even money, you will be repaid abundantly in love, friendship, kindness, and a deep sense of purpose and fulfillment.

Take care of you - physically, emotionally and spiritually.  Take care of your bodies.  Take care of your hearts.  Take care of your souls.  You have an obligation to yourself and to those in your care to be healthy, so you can make the most of life.  Do not neglect exercise, and get yourselves regularly into the fresh air and awe of God’s beautiful natural landscape.  Allow yourself the time to rest.  Forgive yourself your mistakes.  You are strong women, to whom others will always turn for care, nurturing and assistance.  Remember that you are also soft women, and let others nurture you when the need arises, or when others simply wish to give you that gift. 

In the words of Hillel, “That which is disdainful to you, do not do to others.”   Seek justice, but always temper justice with mercy.  Be honest in your dealings with others.  Put yourself in the other person’s shoes, and try not to judge harshly.  It is nearly impossible to know what happens in the hearts and homes of other people.  Care even for the stranger, like your foremother Sara.  You were once a stranger in the land of Egypt, and you may yet be a stranger again. 

Remember, you are part of a larger, extended family.  You are descended from strong, loving women on both sides of your family, and it is in their merit that I have raised you.  If I made a major mistake in your up-bringing, it was in raising you so far from our own family.  It is not too late to connect with your cousins and their children.  Don’t let the fact that you’ve never met some of them discourage you.  These are your people, and you share a common heritage.  

Practice tikkun olam.  Care for the Earth and its inhabitants.  The Earth is your home, and the home of your grandchildren.  Never stop learning.  Be curious and keep your eyes and your minds open.   Listen.  Watch.  Ask.  Read.  Books can widen your exposure immeasurably, and help you feel your membership in the community of planet Earth.

Lisa, as a last gift to me, light candles on Shabbat.  Leave open your mind to the possibility of God.  If God seems a distant idea, look inside at that which feels close.  Remember that your most intense emotions, your deepest sense of awe, all feelings of enlightenment and connection to things bigger and beyond and outside of yourself, all these feelings have their origin deep inside your center – your soul.  And while God is everywhere, inside is a good place to look first when looking for God. 

Jody, you have been blessed with the strength of faith and dedication to your Jewish community.  These blessing are not given without strings.  You are obligated to act on your faith, to be an example and a leader, and to protect, nurture and cherish your faith, your heritage and your community.   Continue to study Torah.  Make the ve’ahavta your watchword.  Let each and every act of your hands, your mouth and your heart speak of God and Torah.  And light the Shabbas candles, please.

In closing, both of you, take care of your sister. 

Love always, Mom

Sandra Price

July 19, 2001