While you wait for me to return from hiatus, here's a great video that I thought you might find interesting.
Laci Green decides to listen to the other side of an argument (feminist vs. anti-feminist):
Janet
Sunday, May 14, 2017
Great idea - videos about folks willing to listen to the other side
I'm still here, folks!
While you wait for me to return from hiatus, here's a great video that I thought you might find interesting.
Laci Green decides to listen to the other side of an argument (feminist vs. anti-feminist):
Janet
While you wait for me to return from hiatus, here's a great video that I thought you might find interesting.
Laci Green decides to listen to the other side of an argument (feminist vs. anti-feminist):
Janet
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Politics in the U.S.A. (part II) - making mistakes
As I said in last week's post, I'm a liberal Democrat who voted for Hillary Clinton in the last U.S. Presidential election. I decided to talk to someone I know, who is as Republican as you can get, and try to see things from their side.
It was so easy to be afraid to talk to them. What if I find out that I could be just like them? What if I find out that once I understand why they care about the things that they care about, and that they want the same things I want, that I'll start to agree with them? What if they somehow do say something that makes me into (*gasp*) one of THEM????
Then I remember all of the talks I've had with people. I've talked to some good and kind people who have different points of view from mine. I remember this time:, when it was about seeing someone else's fear and not agreeing with them:
http://www.growingempathy.net/2013/02/listening-to-other-side.html
And this time, when it was about sitting back and letting someone else's joy run over me:
http://www.growingempathy.net/2014/01/a-party-i-wont-forget.html
Talking to those people didn't change who I am or what I believe. So why should this be any different?
------
I decided to talk to my friend, Sam*, and we chatted over the course of several weeks. I chose him because I knew he liked to talk and that he supported team Red. I was hoping to take my team-colors off, and learn who he was, and why he believed what he believed.
Here are my notes from our conversations.
------
I asked him how he felt about the next four years.
He said, 'You know, I think it will be all-right. I'm looking forward to jobs coming back, and businesses, and such. "
He asked me, "What do you think is going to happen?"
I talked about some of the things I'd seen and felt and heard. About how the rights of women, people of color, of religious groups, of those of different sexual orientation all seemed to be under attack. That I was afraid of the hurt and the anger being shown right now, and of rights being taken away.
I asked him, "What about the hate crimes, the injustice, and the horrible behavior going on? The way folks are being treated?"
He told me that, he believes the hate crimes and increase in horrible behavior are simply media constructs. That it's always been there, and it's just being portrayed as happening more often. He said if I believe otherwise, I am just believing what the media is feeding me.
He said, "I think he's making 'the forgotten man' happy. He's going to Carrier and others and making plans to bring jobs back to the Midwest, and that's making certain people happy."
Then he went on to criticize the Democratic Party. He talked about how it was broken, and I should stop listening to the media and start focusing on fixing the Democratic party for the next election.
I said, "Okay, so you are saying that we should focus on ourselves?"
He said, "People choose the party that works best for them based on the options available. " He compared it to a restaurant menu, comparing how folks can't have everything, they have to pick and choose from what's out there. He talked about creating better choices for people.
He asked, "So, Janet, how are all of your friends doing? Are they okay, now that the inauguration is over?"
I said, "Actually, I know a lot of people who are going to Washington, or NY, or other places and marching."
He said, "Can you explain to me what this March is about? What are they protesting? Because I've watched several interviews and I can't understand what all the fuss is about."
I spoke to him about my point of view. I thought, okay, he wants to understand, I'll show him how I think.
I realized later that - this was a mistake. This discussion was going away from empathy, I wasn't asking him about his feelings. He was asking me about mine, and unlike other times I was getting drawn into it.
So we continued. He brought forth his case again, that the Democrats need to think about why they lost the election, and what they can do to change the outcome in 2020.
I talked about how folks aren't thinking about what's going to happen in 2020 right now; right now they are simply concerned about making it through the next four years.
He said, "But Hillary is a criminal, she would have been an illegal president."
I said, "But Trump is a misogynist and a creep, and I'm scared of Pence."
He said, "How can you say that?"
I said, "How can you say that?"
And back and forth. Eventually, I did realize that we were not only past empathy, but we were two blocks south and around the corner from empathy central. I said to him, "Look, I can see that we're not really listening to each other. Can we agree that we have a different set of priorities?
He looked at me, and nodded slowly. "Yes. I can agree to that. "
And we shook hands. And ended the conversation.
-----
Yeah, so that didn't go as well as I had hoped. I was falling into habit; I do love a good debate so it felt exciting. Instead of just listening to him, I was wrapped up in the argument. I was just talking AT him.
So I tried again. I had another conversation, and another. I asked everyone I know questions about why they chose who they did, what they were feeling and why they felt the way they did. I tried to listen to them, and to stop talking at them.
Those conversations are still happening, and I hope to keep them going.
----
My goal may be selfish; I have empathy because I believe that we will only move forward if we stop taking sides and start listening to each other.
Or maybe, All you need is love.
Janet
*as always, names changed to protect identities.
It was so easy to be afraid to talk to them. What if I find out that I could be just like them? What if I find out that once I understand why they care about the things that they care about, and that they want the same things I want, that I'll start to agree with them? What if they somehow do say something that makes me into (*gasp*) one of THEM????
Then I remember all of the talks I've had with people. I've talked to some good and kind people who have different points of view from mine. I remember this time:, when it was about seeing someone else's fear and not agreeing with them:
http://www.growingempathy.net/2013/02/listening-to-other-side.html
And this time, when it was about sitting back and letting someone else's joy run over me:
http://www.growingempathy.net/2014/01/a-party-i-wont-forget.html
Talking to those people didn't change who I am or what I believe. So why should this be any different?
I decided to talk to my friend, Sam*, and we chatted over the course of several weeks. I chose him because I knew he liked to talk and that he supported team Red. I was hoping to take my team-colors off, and learn who he was, and why he believed what he believed.
Here are my notes from our conversations.
------
I asked him how he felt about the next four years.
He said, 'You know, I think it will be all-right. I'm looking forward to jobs coming back, and businesses, and such. "
He asked me, "What do you think is going to happen?"
I talked about some of the things I'd seen and felt and heard. About how the rights of women, people of color, of religious groups, of those of different sexual orientation all seemed to be under attack. That I was afraid of the hurt and the anger being shown right now, and of rights being taken away.
I asked him, "What about the hate crimes, the injustice, and the horrible behavior going on? The way folks are being treated?"
He told me that, he believes the hate crimes and increase in horrible behavior are simply media constructs. That it's always been there, and it's just being portrayed as happening more often. He said if I believe otherwise, I am just believing what the media is feeding me.
He said, "I think he's making 'the forgotten man' happy. He's going to Carrier and others and making plans to bring jobs back to the Midwest, and that's making certain people happy."
I said, "Okay, so you are saying that we should focus on ourselves?"
He said, "People choose the party that works best for them based on the options available. " He compared it to a restaurant menu, comparing how folks can't have everything, they have to pick and choose from what's out there. He talked about creating better choices for people.
He asked, "So, Janet, how are all of your friends doing? Are they okay, now that the inauguration is over?"
I said, "Actually, I know a lot of people who are going to Washington, or NY, or other places and marching."
He said, "Can you explain to me what this March is about? What are they protesting? Because I've watched several interviews and I can't understand what all the fuss is about."
I spoke to him about my point of view. I thought, okay, he wants to understand, I'll show him how I think.
I realized later that - this was a mistake. This discussion was going away from empathy, I wasn't asking him about his feelings. He was asking me about mine, and unlike other times I was getting drawn into it.
So we continued. He brought forth his case again, that the Democrats need to think about why they lost the election, and what they can do to change the outcome in 2020.
I talked about how folks aren't thinking about what's going to happen in 2020 right now; right now they are simply concerned about making it through the next four years.
He said, "But Hillary is a criminal, she would have been an illegal president."
I said, "But Trump is a misogynist and a creep, and I'm scared of Pence."
He said, "How can you say that?"
I said, "How can you say that?"
And back and forth. Eventually, I did realize that we were not only past empathy, but we were two blocks south and around the corner from empathy central. I said to him, "Look, I can see that we're not really listening to each other. Can we agree that we have a different set of priorities?
He looked at me, and nodded slowly. "Yes. I can agree to that. "
And we shook hands. And ended the conversation.
-----
Yeah, so that didn't go as well as I had hoped. I was falling into habit; I do love a good debate so it felt exciting. Instead of just listening to him, I was wrapped up in the argument. I was just talking AT him.
So I tried again. I had another conversation, and another. I asked everyone I know questions about why they chose who they did, what they were feeling and why they felt the way they did. I tried to listen to them, and to stop talking at them.
Those conversations are still happening, and I hope to keep them going.
----
My goal may be selfish; I have empathy because I believe that we will only move forward if we stop taking sides and start listening to each other.
Or maybe, All you need is love.
Janet
*as always, names changed to protect identities.
Sunday, January 22, 2017
Politics in the U.S.A (part I)
Many years ago I went to a football game in Buffalo, NY, USA, to see my favorite team, the Buffalo Bills.
I was there as a fan of the home team, and my boyfriend-of-the-time and his friends were there as fans of the visiting team, the NY Giants. We all wore our team jerseys, sweaters, and hats. It was very cold, and when the wind blew through the upper deck seats, it made you want to put down your oversize flag and cover your nose with your mittens. I remember many things about that day; the enormous electronic billboard blinking brightly the words, "DE-FENSE! DE-FENSE", how people around us would leap into the air and time seemed to stop, when our side caught a pass and a touchdown was happening right before our eyes. I remember that the guy sitting in front of us would throw his arms wildly as he cheered, nearly knocking into me, my chicken nuggets and cup of dip.
I also remember how the people around us treated my friends, the Giants fans.
The guy in front of us, I noted, had a ton of energy. He would yell and scream, "take that, suck-AH", pointing in my friends faces when the Bills scored points. He made rude gestures at my friends, laughed at them, and called them colorful and descriptive names. As the game went on, the better my team did, the more raucous he became. Then, three hours later, the game was over.
As the people around us stood and we packed up our things, this guy sitting in front of us turned around and looked at my friends. He calmly said, "Hey, good game man. Be safe." He reached out his hand and one of my friends shook it. Then we left.
Just like that, all of the anger, all of the hatred was gone. Everyone laughed and nobody's feelings were hurt, because after all, it was just a game.
----
What does this have to do with politics?
For several months leading up to the recent Presidential election, me and most (but not all) of my friends and family chose sides. We were either on team 'Red' (Make America Great Again! TRUMP!) or on team 'Blue' (Hillary! Bernie! Not-My-President!). I voted for Hillary.
I'm trying to be out there, doing the 'empathy' thing, trying to see both sides of a situation. I just find it really, really hard (much harder than I've found any other empathy situation so far) to understand someone who is proud of voting for Trump. As 'Ms. Empathy', I know I need to do it; but it's definitely been a challenge.
As an example, I was standing on the street the other day, waiting for a bus with my children. I heard two women joking nearby as they waited with their kids. I wasn't trying to 'listen in' but they were talking very loudly, and smiling, looking happy. "You know what I saw the other day," one said to the other. "I saw a sale on Amazon, for toilet paper with Hillary Clinton's face on it. I wanted to buy it but by the time I put in my order, it was sold out." The other one laughed, slapped the first one on the back, and then made a poop joke that was more appropriate for grade school.
I got the joke. It was supposed to be funny. I understand that not everyone has the same ideas about how to raise kids and what's appropriate to say in front of them (or not). What I had trouble comprehending was how public they were about it. Why was it okay for them to make such mean comments? I don't understand why it's suddenly socially acceptable to say mean things about other people in public. When did that become 'okay' and 'normal'?
Later, I thought that perhaps it's because they feel it's just like a game, and they are the fans. If it's a game, then it's okay to behave this way. They chose their team and I chose my team, and we're down to the final seconds. It's easy to pretend that we can say what we want, because once the game is over, of course, nothing that we said before will matter. We can just shake hands and move on.
----
For the next post, I decided to stop being in the audience and to actually talk to someone on the other side. To hear and listen to what they have to say, and to try to understand. That's my job, after all.
Janet
(to be continued)
Link to Part II
I was there as a fan of the home team, and my boyfriend-of-the-time and his friends were there as fans of the visiting team, the NY Giants. We all wore our team jerseys, sweaters, and hats. It was very cold, and when the wind blew through the upper deck seats, it made you want to put down your oversize flag and cover your nose with your mittens. I remember many things about that day; the enormous electronic billboard blinking brightly the words, "DE-FENSE! DE-FENSE", how people around us would leap into the air and time seemed to stop, when our side caught a pass and a touchdown was happening right before our eyes. I remember that the guy sitting in front of us would throw his arms wildly as he cheered, nearly knocking into me, my chicken nuggets and cup of dip.
I also remember how the people around us treated my friends, the Giants fans.
The guy in front of us, I noted, had a ton of energy. He would yell and scream, "take that, suck-AH", pointing in my friends faces when the Bills scored points. He made rude gestures at my friends, laughed at them, and called them colorful and descriptive names. As the game went on, the better my team did, the more raucous he became. Then, three hours later, the game was over.
As the people around us stood and we packed up our things, this guy sitting in front of us turned around and looked at my friends. He calmly said, "Hey, good game man. Be safe." He reached out his hand and one of my friends shook it. Then we left.
Just like that, all of the anger, all of the hatred was gone. Everyone laughed and nobody's feelings were hurt, because after all, it was just a game.
----
What does this have to do with politics?
For several months leading up to the recent Presidential election, me and most (but not all) of my friends and family chose sides. We were either on team 'Red' (Make America Great Again! TRUMP!) or on team 'Blue' (Hillary! Bernie! Not-My-President!). I voted for Hillary.
I'm trying to be out there, doing the 'empathy' thing, trying to see both sides of a situation. I just find it really, really hard (much harder than I've found any other empathy situation so far) to understand someone who is proud of voting for Trump. As 'Ms. Empathy', I know I need to do it; but it's definitely been a challenge.
As an example, I was standing on the street the other day, waiting for a bus with my children. I heard two women joking nearby as they waited with their kids. I wasn't trying to 'listen in' but they were talking very loudly, and smiling, looking happy. "You know what I saw the other day," one said to the other. "I saw a sale on Amazon, for toilet paper with Hillary Clinton's face on it. I wanted to buy it but by the time I put in my order, it was sold out." The other one laughed, slapped the first one on the back, and then made a poop joke that was more appropriate for grade school.
I got the joke. It was supposed to be funny. I understand that not everyone has the same ideas about how to raise kids and what's appropriate to say in front of them (or not). What I had trouble comprehending was how public they were about it. Why was it okay for them to make such mean comments? I don't understand why it's suddenly socially acceptable to say mean things about other people in public. When did that become 'okay' and 'normal'?
Later, I thought that perhaps it's because they feel it's just like a game, and they are the fans. If it's a game, then it's okay to behave this way. They chose their team and I chose my team, and we're down to the final seconds. It's easy to pretend that we can say what we want, because once the game is over, of course, nothing that we said before will matter. We can just shake hands and move on.
----
For the next post, I decided to stop being in the audience and to actually talk to someone on the other side. To hear and listen to what they have to say, and to try to understand. That's my job, after all.
Janet
(to be continued)
Link to Part II
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Seeing both sides of a mistake
I messed up with my friend Joanne. A big, big mistake. Usually I think pretty highly of myself, but when I did this thing it felt so bad it ached in my heart. I wanted to take it back, to apologize, to try to make things right again. But what could I possibly say to her? I didn't know what I should do. I didn't know what I could say to make things right again.
When I make a mistake and it impacts someone else, my instincts tell me to push away. I'd do anything to avoid the conflict.
------
Luckily, the day after my disaster with Joanne, I got a haircut.
The stylist was working away, cutting and talking and cutting and talking and perhaps you can imagine what happened next. I looked away for one second and when I looked back, a large chunk of my hair was gone. It was on the floor, instead of on my head.
She put down the scissors and comb and stood behind me for a few minutes, holding my hair this way, turning my head back and forth. She said, "Um, give me a second here." I knew something was exceptionally wrong. She said, "Well, I cut this side a little bit farther than I meant to. I'm going to call Lucy and see what she can do with this. She has lots of experience. I'll be right back. "
I looked at my reflection and couldn't think for a few seconds. This girl, I asked this girl to cut my hair. I ran over and over again in my mind what I had said to her at the start. Was I clear enough? I told her, "Long layers, face frame. Cut it up to here. " I remember holding my hand up to my shoulders, showing her. I turned my head to the side to look again. Yep, it's pretty short now, it's up to my ears on one side.
She came back and spoke, all in a rush. "Hah, yeah okay so I can't get Lucy but she's on break, she must be close by and she has to be back soon and I expect her back any minute and she's the expert and she'll be able to fix it and I'm so sorry. " She came over and turned my head to the side again. "She'll know what to do, she'll fix it so...so you don't look like you have a mullet. I'll make sure you don't have to pay for this. Don't worry, she'll be right back, I'm positive." Then she walked away and left me alone.
I immediately thought of this:
At that moment, it didn't matter all of the nice things that she said to me, or that we laughed at each other's jokes. All that mattered was there I was, with something I really, really didn't want staring back at me in the mirror.
Lucy, the other hairdresser did eventually come back and after some careful re-cutting, I no longer looked like a time-warp from 1986. It wasn't the haircut I asked for but it wasn't bad, either.
As I walked out, I was reminded of what had happened with Joanne. It occurred to me that this salon girl made a mistake too, but she handled it better than I did. I'm sure that this will be a problem when she faced up to it, maybe she'll have to lose pay or even worse. She was better than me, because she owned up to it right away. She admitted her mistake and tried to get it fixed. She immediately told me that I wouldn't be paying for any of the fees for the haircut. Those things were both nice. They didn't stop the consequences, but they made me feel better, somehow.
-----
The next day I sent Joanne a message, I asked if I could talk to her. She agreed, and I called her up.
I told her, "I've done what I can to fix this. I messed up, and as a result I broke trust in you. I'm so sorry for what I put you thorough." I thought of the stylist, and how it felt to be on the other side of a mistake. I said, "You trusted me, and I let you down. I'm sure that I don't know all of the effects this had on you, but I know how it feels to be let down by someone. "
Maybe one day she'll forgive me, maybe not. She seemed to take it well, so I have hope.
Janet
When I make a mistake and it impacts someone else, my instincts tell me to push away. I'd do anything to avoid the conflict.
Luckily, the day after my disaster with Joanne, I got a haircut.
The stylist was working away, cutting and talking and cutting and talking and perhaps you can imagine what happened next. I looked away for one second and when I looked back, a large chunk of my hair was gone. It was on the floor, instead of on my head.
She put down the scissors and comb and stood behind me for a few minutes, holding my hair this way, turning my head back and forth. She said, "Um, give me a second here." I knew something was exceptionally wrong. She said, "Well, I cut this side a little bit farther than I meant to. I'm going to call Lucy and see what she can do with this. She has lots of experience. I'll be right back. "
I looked at my reflection and couldn't think for a few seconds. This girl, I asked this girl to cut my hair. I ran over and over again in my mind what I had said to her at the start. Was I clear enough? I told her, "Long layers, face frame. Cut it up to here. " I remember holding my hand up to my shoulders, showing her. I turned my head to the side to look again. Yep, it's pretty short now, it's up to my ears on one side.
She came back and spoke, all in a rush. "Hah, yeah okay so I can't get Lucy but she's on break, she must be close by and she has to be back soon and I expect her back any minute and she's the expert and she'll be able to fix it and I'm so sorry. " She came over and turned my head to the side again. "She'll know what to do, she'll fix it so...so you don't look like you have a mullet. I'll make sure you don't have to pay for this. Don't worry, she'll be right back, I'm positive." Then she walked away and left me alone.
I immediately thought of this:
At that moment, it didn't matter all of the nice things that she said to me, or that we laughed at each other's jokes. All that mattered was there I was, with something I really, really didn't want staring back at me in the mirror.
Lucy, the other hairdresser did eventually come back and after some careful re-cutting, I no longer looked like a time-warp from 1986. It wasn't the haircut I asked for but it wasn't bad, either.
As I walked out, I was reminded of what had happened with Joanne. It occurred to me that this salon girl made a mistake too, but she handled it better than I did. I'm sure that this will be a problem when she faced up to it, maybe she'll have to lose pay or even worse. She was better than me, because she owned up to it right away. She admitted her mistake and tried to get it fixed. She immediately told me that I wouldn't be paying for any of the fees for the haircut. Those things were both nice. They didn't stop the consequences, but they made me feel better, somehow.
-----
The next day I sent Joanne a message, I asked if I could talk to her. She agreed, and I called her up.
I told her, "I've done what I can to fix this. I messed up, and as a result I broke trust in you. I'm so sorry for what I put you thorough." I thought of the stylist, and how it felt to be on the other side of a mistake. I said, "You trusted me, and I let you down. I'm sure that I don't know all of the effects this had on you, but I know how it feels to be let down by someone. "
Maybe one day she'll forgive me, maybe not. She seemed to take it well, so I have hope.
Janet
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Internet Blues
My good friend, who I respect and care about, posted a political joke on her Facebook page by 'liking' it. As a result, I saw it in my news feed. It clearly wasn't an invitation to a discussion, it was simply a hurtful thing said by folks from one political party about folks from another political party.
I had feelings in all sorts of different directions when I read this; anger, sadness, and disgust to name a few. But my first coherent thought was "That's not funny". My second thought was, "Do you really feel that way about me?"
After my friend posted this, I started to let it get to me. I thought, I won't forget this for a long time. I'll remember this when I see her at the grocery store, when her kids are at the school recital and I when we see each other at trick-or-treating or other local events.
That's horrible! She made one statement online and suddenly the reasons I like and respect her go out the window. That's not a strong friendship, I thought, if it can be destroyed by one image.
But then I had a different thought. I didn't choose to be friends with her because of her political affiliation, her religion or her stance on abortion law. I choose a person as a friend because we treated each other kindly, and respected each other. So what was really going on here?
----
When I first joined social media o-so-many years ago I made a joke at someone's expense. What I didn't realize was, that they also were able to see it. I never forgot that moment when I talked to the person later, in-real-life, and she asked me that same question, "Do you really feel that way about me?"
Of course it wasn't just a joke, right? It was an expression of a feeling I was having at one moment, based on the understanding that only certain people (people who understood how I felt, and agreed with me) were reading it. It was me saying something mean that I would never, never have said to her face.
I've seen a lot of this lately; this vitriol thrown about so that nobody can ignore it. It's as if we're going to work or school or bars or restaurants wearing our political parties on neon green t-shirts or tattooed to our foreheads. It feels like a very quiet act, when I like or share a post. But I know that to the person reading it the message has the volume turned all the way up.
----
I wish I could go back in time and take back every re-tweet, share, like or comment on political stories in social media. But I can't undo what's been done.
What I can do is choose to try to have empathy for her. I'd rather assume she's just quietly saying "Hey, I like this". That maybe, just maybe, she didn't mean to shout at me.
Janet
Janet
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Empathy at the Airport
The other day, I read a few stories about empathy at the airport (links below) and it got me thinking; isn't the airport a great place to grow our empathy, because it's full of people? It's a big concrete box bursting with human beings stuck together in one place for a limited time.
-----
I'm amazed when I consider how many of us could be in the terminal simultaneously. If you are like me, then maybe you only go to the airport to get from point A to point B. We are the travelers; we are the families going to visit other families or if we are lucky, taking a vacation. We are the employees carrying laptops and going to business meetings.
I know that there are other people who love to fly. I see them posting online about their adventures. For these travel experts, I hear that it's simply a joy for them to move so fast and so far and to put their eyeballs and bodies out there in the cosmos.
Here are some great airport stories for you to check out:
Here's my latest flying story. Please let me know your flying stories in the comments below, I'd love to hear them.
-----
I'm amazed when I consider how many of us could be in the terminal simultaneously. If you are like me, then maybe you only go to the airport to get from point A to point B. We are the travelers; we are the families going to visit other families or if we are lucky, taking a vacation. We are the employees carrying laptops and going to business meetings.
I know that there are other people who love to fly. I see them posting online about their adventures. For these travel experts, I hear that it's simply a joy for them to move so fast and so far and to put their eyeballs and bodies out there in the cosmos.
I can imagine that there are other kinds of travelers that are going on a one-way trip. The guys who are using boarding passes and suitcases to say good-bye for the last time to their home and everything they've ever known, or the gals who are running to a new future in a new town, without looking back.
Rounding out this mass of humanity are the daily airport workers; our brothers and sisters whose alarm clocks and morning coffees are getting them to the big box every day. They are keeping the place moving and shaking by feeding us, cleaning up after us and speeding us on our way. Souls with hearts and minds and fingers and toes are working at the kiosks and cooking in the restaurants and cleaning the bathrooms. People are shunting us like cattle through the security machines or doing a pat-down, and maybe they love their jobs or maybe they don't. I can't leave out the pilots and co-pilots, the flight attendants and all of the other people for whom the airport is their daily commute. There must also be many people I never see or talk to; employees of the airlines and other businesses, the airport administrators, baggage handlers and air traffic controllers.
It's inspiring to have so many people all together in one building at one time. I see this structured system of commercial travel as an opportunity for us empathy builders, because more people means we've all got a higher probability to meet someone new and learn about an entirely different life. Are you going to the airport soon? Perhaps this is your chance to stretch your empathy muscles.
It's inspiring to have so many people all together in one building at one time. I see this structured system of commercial travel as an opportunity for us empathy builders, because more people means we've all got a higher probability to meet someone new and learn about an entirely different life. Are you going to the airport soon? Perhaps this is your chance to stretch your empathy muscles.
Here are some great airport stories for you to check out:
-----
On a recent business trip, I was flying next to a man who had never been on an airplane in his life. He was older than me, at least in his fifties. I was busy and so we didn't talk until the plane was landing. He was in the middle leg of a three-flight trip, on his way to South Carolina. He wasn't flying direct, he said, because it was cheaper and he had the time to spare.
He told me he was happy, because he was on his way to see his son and 8 week-old grandson. He explained that the flight was a return trip - he had just finished moving everything he and his wife owned to Chicago. It was a long quiet drive on back roads with a big truck, and there were no good radio stations, but it was beautiful. I was confused, and said, "If your family is in Kentucky, why did you move to Chicago?" He told me that he can't stay in Kentucky anymore. He looked a little sad when he said it, like it was a very hard decision for him.
A few years ago, he said he had retired to take care of his wife. Now they were moving to a new town to support his daughter, who was in school in Chicago. He said, "She's in it for the long haul. She'll be spending the next five years studying and doing apprenticeships for her degree, and then once she gets her certification she'll need to look for a job. All of the jobs for her line of work are in Chicago. My son, though, has a career in South Carolina with his wife and family, and they just bought a new house. So I think I'll be flying back and forth for the next ten years, at least."
I looked in his eyes, which held both joy and fear. I said, "It sounds like you are the end of one journey, and the start of another."
He agreed. We were quiet until we disembarked.
------
Please tell us your stories!
Janet
On a recent business trip, I was flying next to a man who had never been on an airplane in his life. He was older than me, at least in his fifties. I was busy and so we didn't talk until the plane was landing. He was in the middle leg of a three-flight trip, on his way to South Carolina. He wasn't flying direct, he said, because it was cheaper and he had the time to spare.
He told me he was happy, because he was on his way to see his son and 8 week-old grandson. He explained that the flight was a return trip - he had just finished moving everything he and his wife owned to Chicago. It was a long quiet drive on back roads with a big truck, and there were no good radio stations, but it was beautiful. I was confused, and said, "If your family is in Kentucky, why did you move to Chicago?" He told me that he can't stay in Kentucky anymore. He looked a little sad when he said it, like it was a very hard decision for him.
A few years ago, he said he had retired to take care of his wife. Now they were moving to a new town to support his daughter, who was in school in Chicago. He said, "She's in it for the long haul. She'll be spending the next five years studying and doing apprenticeships for her degree, and then once she gets her certification she'll need to look for a job. All of the jobs for her line of work are in Chicago. My son, though, has a career in South Carolina with his wife and family, and they just bought a new house. So I think I'll be flying back and forth for the next ten years, at least."
I looked in his eyes, which held both joy and fear. I said, "It sounds like you are the end of one journey, and the start of another."
He agreed. We were quiet until we disembarked.
------
Please tell us your stories!
Janet
Monday, December 21, 2015
Using empathy is like riding a bicycle
I can ride a bicycle, although it's been many years since I've actually done so. Let's say I'm walking through the park and I see a bicycle lying abandoned on the ground. What are my choices?
I could start by not noticing the bike at all, because I'm thinking about something else. I could see the bike, pick it up and zip away. Or maybe I'll see it but I won't pick it up; I could hesitate because I'm scared that I'll fall and get hurt. Maybe I'm feeling tired and don't want to ride just then. Or maybe I'll want to be mean; I'll think about pushing it into a lake, or putting holes in the tires. All of these are choices I can make with that bike - to ride it, to ignore it, to break it. Having the skill to ride has given me more options, but doesn't stop me from doing those other things. I have to make a choice.
----
I lead an isolated life. I live and work at home, and don't get out much. So when I finally do get out and see people, I slip easily into judging them. I haven't practiced, so again and again I see the bicycle (of empathy) and I choose to not ride it.
Today, for instance, I see a group of women sitting at a table. I overhear them talking and think, "Look at those women over there, wearing pink jumpsuits, talking about how droopy their flesh on their arms looks and reminiscing about old episodes of Blossom. They look like they are having fun, but why do they have to play into those stereotypes of women? Those women are horrible."
Then I remember that I'm the person who wants to try to connect with everyone. I'm trying to understand everyone's point of view. So I think; what if I was sitting with them? Would I be joining their conversation? If we were friends, would I be sneering at them? Probably not. I'd probably be smiling and laughing, just like the others. I'd join in and ask, "How did we ever think Joey was cute (whoa!)."
----
Instead of "Growing Empathy" maybe a better name for this blog would have been, "How I try to use and grow my own capacity to empathize with others, and make the effort to use it as often as possible." Although, that would have been a bit long for a Google search. :)
I still believe that empathy is an emotional investment that we can choose to make. I want to learn to have empathy, but also to choose to use it as often as possible, and not to fall so easily into the trap of judgement.
It's time to go ride a bike. Want to join me?
Janet
I could start by not noticing the bike at all, because I'm thinking about something else. I could see the bike, pick it up and zip away. Or maybe I'll see it but I won't pick it up; I could hesitate because I'm scared that I'll fall and get hurt. Maybe I'm feeling tired and don't want to ride just then. Or maybe I'll want to be mean; I'll think about pushing it into a lake, or putting holes in the tires. All of these are choices I can make with that bike - to ride it, to ignore it, to break it. Having the skill to ride has given me more options, but doesn't stop me from doing those other things. I have to make a choice.
----
I lead an isolated life. I live and work at home, and don't get out much. So when I finally do get out and see people, I slip easily into judging them. I haven't practiced, so again and again I see the bicycle (of empathy) and I choose to not ride it.
Today, for instance, I see a group of women sitting at a table. I overhear them talking and think, "Look at those women over there, wearing pink jumpsuits, talking about how droopy their flesh on their arms looks and reminiscing about old episodes of Blossom. They look like they are having fun, but why do they have to play into those stereotypes of women? Those women are horrible."
Then I remember that I'm the person who wants to try to connect with everyone. I'm trying to understand everyone's point of view. So I think; what if I was sitting with them? Would I be joining their conversation? If we were friends, would I be sneering at them? Probably not. I'd probably be smiling and laughing, just like the others. I'd join in and ask, "How did we ever think Joey was cute (whoa!)."
----
Instead of "Growing Empathy" maybe a better name for this blog would have been, "How I try to use and grow my own capacity to empathize with others, and make the effort to use it as often as possible." Although, that would have been a bit long for a Google search. :)
I still believe that empathy is an emotional investment that we can choose to make. I want to learn to have empathy, but also to choose to use it as often as possible, and not to fall so easily into the trap of judgement.
It's time to go ride a bike. Want to join me?
Janet
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
The right way to do a job - trying to build empathy for Kim Davis
I know that having empathy for a person and agreeing with a person are different. If I disagree with someone, though, it's hard to build empathy for them.
As an example, right now, if you and I were to run into each other at the grocery store we might start talking about the news. We might discuss Kim Davis, elected County Clerk of Rowan County, Kentucky, and how she went to jail for refusing to issue marriage licenses to couples. Ms. Davis has said that she did it because it's now legal to marry in the U.S. if you are gay, and that issuing licenses to gay couples conflicts with her religion.
I believe strongly that civil marriage should be legal between any two people regardless of their sexual orientation, and so I celebrated when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of this. As a result, I firmly agree with the local Kentucky residents who want to get married. I feel frustration for the men and women who were trying to get married and couldn't get licenses until Ms. Davis went to jail a few days ago.
I feel anger at this woman. I think, why is she choosing to use her position of power to cause disruption in the lives of these people?
----
I also believe strongly in keeping my ethics and my work tied together. I had a summer job teaching at a local college many years ago, for Calculus III. This was a difficult class for undergrads; and it was made more difficult because of the intense schedule (we were meeting for 3 hours a day, 3 days a week for 6 weeks). It didn't surprise me that many of the students were unable to learn the subject that quickly, and out of a class of 12; 4 of them were failing out. I was in my office grading papers one day, when there was a knock at the door. I was expecting a student, so was surprised to see an older man I didn't know walk in.
He introduced himself as the Dean of the Chemistry department. He then said that one of my failing students was trying to graduate, and that all they needed was this one class. Could I see any way that they could pass? I told him that, at this point, it would be really hard; they had already failed every weekly test, and the midterm exam, with grades below 50 percent. I said, "If they turn themselves around and get a high score on the final exam, they can pass. " He then asked me, "Could you pass them anyway, even if they fail the final?"
I was floored that he asked me to do this. I looked at him, and repeated, "Only if they get a high score on the final exam." He looked at me and said, "I know you'll do the right thing. Think about it, and when it comes time to submit grades, pass him. " Then he shook my hand and walked out. After he left I sat there for a few minutes; not sure of what to do.
This was horrible! My job is to teach students, and the grades are supposed to reflect that they've learned or not learned the material. I had heard about students trading favors for grades, and I had caught students cheating. This was completely different; this was one teacher asking another to change a student's grade! I was mortified that he would ask; but I wasn't sure what I could do. I thought, well, he's a Dean and I'm just an adjunct professor, I'm pretty sure I have to do what he tells me to do. Also, although this was a summer job I thought I was going to end up teaching for the rest of my life. I was hoping to get a letter of recommendation from this school, and I was worried about what would happen if I did flunk the student. Then I thought, let me see how this kid does on his final exam. I don't need to decide until then.
In the end, the student got only one question right out of ten on the final exam, and I needed to fail him. I decided that it wouldn't be right not to, it wouldn't be fair to the other kids who worked harder to earn their grade. I remember the strong feeling of decisiveness that came over me as I entered his grade and handed it in.
After I submitted the grades, I went to the Dean of the Math Department (my boss) and told him what had happened. He agreed that it was improper, but he didn't say to me if he was going to alert anyone else. I didn't ask for the recommendation letter. Since I didn't end up going into a teaching career, I've never heard from any of them again.
It felt really good standing up for what I felt was right, and doing my job the way I thought it ought to be done.
----
I know that teaching a class is very different from being elected Deputy Clerk of a County; but in many ways they are similar. We're both acting based on what we know and believe to be the right way of doing things; and we're both in positions of power; we're making decisions that affect other people's lives.
So when I think about Ms. Kim Davis, I think that her job is to issue marriage licenses, and to determine who is eligible for a license. If I was in her position, I can imagine that maybe she doesn't agree with her bosses definition of eligible (in this case, the government's definition). If I was her, maybe I wouldn't issue a license until I thought about what I was doing, and decided if I agreed or disagreed with it. Maybe I would be trying to talk to my boss, in this case, the government and the people who elected me. Maybe I would be talking with others, friends and family, to see what they would do.
I disagree with her, and I have empathy for her.
Janet
As an example, right now, if you and I were to run into each other at the grocery store we might start talking about the news. We might discuss Kim Davis, elected County Clerk of Rowan County, Kentucky, and how she went to jail for refusing to issue marriage licenses to couples. Ms. Davis has said that she did it because it's now legal to marry in the U.S. if you are gay, and that issuing licenses to gay couples conflicts with her religion.
I believe strongly that civil marriage should be legal between any two people regardless of their sexual orientation, and so I celebrated when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of this. As a result, I firmly agree with the local Kentucky residents who want to get married. I feel frustration for the men and women who were trying to get married and couldn't get licenses until Ms. Davis went to jail a few days ago.
I feel anger at this woman. I think, why is she choosing to use her position of power to cause disruption in the lives of these people?
----
I also believe strongly in keeping my ethics and my work tied together. I had a summer job teaching at a local college many years ago, for Calculus III. This was a difficult class for undergrads; and it was made more difficult because of the intense schedule (we were meeting for 3 hours a day, 3 days a week for 6 weeks). It didn't surprise me that many of the students were unable to learn the subject that quickly, and out of a class of 12; 4 of them were failing out. I was in my office grading papers one day, when there was a knock at the door. I was expecting a student, so was surprised to see an older man I didn't know walk in.
He introduced himself as the Dean of the Chemistry department. He then said that one of my failing students was trying to graduate, and that all they needed was this one class. Could I see any way that they could pass? I told him that, at this point, it would be really hard; they had already failed every weekly test, and the midterm exam, with grades below 50 percent. I said, "If they turn themselves around and get a high score on the final exam, they can pass. " He then asked me, "Could you pass them anyway, even if they fail the final?"
I was floored that he asked me to do this. I looked at him, and repeated, "Only if they get a high score on the final exam." He looked at me and said, "I know you'll do the right thing. Think about it, and when it comes time to submit grades, pass him. " Then he shook my hand and walked out. After he left I sat there for a few minutes; not sure of what to do.
This was horrible! My job is to teach students, and the grades are supposed to reflect that they've learned or not learned the material. I had heard about students trading favors for grades, and I had caught students cheating. This was completely different; this was one teacher asking another to change a student's grade! I was mortified that he would ask; but I wasn't sure what I could do. I thought, well, he's a Dean and I'm just an adjunct professor, I'm pretty sure I have to do what he tells me to do. Also, although this was a summer job I thought I was going to end up teaching for the rest of my life. I was hoping to get a letter of recommendation from this school, and I was worried about what would happen if I did flunk the student. Then I thought, let me see how this kid does on his final exam. I don't need to decide until then.
In the end, the student got only one question right out of ten on the final exam, and I needed to fail him. I decided that it wouldn't be right not to, it wouldn't be fair to the other kids who worked harder to earn their grade. I remember the strong feeling of decisiveness that came over me as I entered his grade and handed it in.
After I submitted the grades, I went to the Dean of the Math Department (my boss) and told him what had happened. He agreed that it was improper, but he didn't say to me if he was going to alert anyone else. I didn't ask for the recommendation letter. Since I didn't end up going into a teaching career, I've never heard from any of them again.
It felt really good standing up for what I felt was right, and doing my job the way I thought it ought to be done.
----
I know that teaching a class is very different from being elected Deputy Clerk of a County; but in many ways they are similar. We're both acting based on what we know and believe to be the right way of doing things; and we're both in positions of power; we're making decisions that affect other people's lives.
So when I think about Ms. Kim Davis, I think that her job is to issue marriage licenses, and to determine who is eligible for a license. If I was in her position, I can imagine that maybe she doesn't agree with her bosses definition of eligible (in this case, the government's definition). If I was her, maybe I wouldn't issue a license until I thought about what I was doing, and decided if I agreed or disagreed with it. Maybe I would be trying to talk to my boss, in this case, the government and the people who elected me. Maybe I would be talking with others, friends and family, to see what they would do.
I disagree with her, and I have empathy for her.
Janet
Friday, August 21, 2015
A day at the doctor's office
I got a call the other day, telling me I needed to come in for an annual woman's checkup. Since my regular nurse-midwife wasn't there this week, they asked if I'd be okay with seeing one of the other doctors in the office.
I didn't recognize the name. I asked, "Why am I coming in, I don't need a pap, right?" They confirmed that I didn't need a pap, just a standard visit this time. This was a relief since the pap is an invasive and uncomfortable test, and I'd rather not have some stranger doing it to me. So I agreed to see Dr. Lava*.
--
At the doctor's office I did the usual dance of filling out forms and handing over identification. I went to go to the bathroom, but it was occupied, so I waited. A person came out and I looked up, she stepped one way, I stepped the other and we pretty much crashed into each other. She was tall, a black woman with a round face, her hair in a bun and wearing red nurse's scrubs. She's squishy, I thought, and I had an odd urge to hug her as we tangled. We laughed, I apologized, she smiled and said, "It's okay" and then I went back to the waiting area.
A few minutes later, I was called in by the very same nurse I had just encountered. This was great, because our earlier run-in made it easy to slide into some friendly chatting. We talked about the weather, she introduced herself as Sheila, she asked me the standard questions. She had just started to pull out the blood pressure cuff when we were interrupted by a knock on the door.
A woman I didn't know poked her head inside. She said to us both in an educational tone, "Hi, Sheila's new, so I'm here to make sure that everything's covered." She didn't introduce herself, just came in and closed the door, then leaned against the wall. Whatever kind of relaxed atmosphere that the nurse and I had been building was now stopped in it's tracks because her supervisor was present. The room got very quiet. Sheila had finished the pre-exam steps and was about to leave when the second nurse told me to get undressed and prepare for my exam.
"But...I'm not getting a pap? What do you mean?" I looked at all of the tools laid out on the counter and thought, are those for me?
"No, you aren't having a pap." She said. "But you still get a pelvic exam. It's part of your checkup."
Then they both left.
I had a few minutes to change into my gown and absorb this new information before the doctor came in. Great, that's unexpected, I thought. Now someone I don't know will be poking around my private bits. Fun-fun-fun, I just hope it's over really quickly.
--
Dr. Lava came in. She was a tall woman with dark hair and an uncertain smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes.
She held out her hand and said, "Hi, I'm Dr. Lava, I haven't seen you in a long time." "Um, really?", I said, "Because I don't remember you at all." She insisted that we had met before, a few years ago. I said, "Um, okay." Why are we arguing? Then she asked me to lie down to start the exam.
To clearly paint the picture; I'm wearing a paper gown that opens in the front, held together with ties. So I'm nearly naked, cold in the office air-conditioning and flat on my back on a table about waist-high.
Then there was another rat-a-tat knock on the door, and Sheila came in. She left the door open behind her as she went to the computer. I'm seeing that door open and I'm thinking, I'm barely covered over here, what's going on, when is she going to close that door? I was about to say something when the mystery-nurse came in and shut it behind her with a snap.
I was a little unhappy before, but now I was really squirming. I was remembering now about another time, during my first childbirth experience at a hospital. Then, a large group of nurses and staff came in to watch the big event; live and up-close. I thought, hey, doctor, I'm not some kind of a circus sideshow to be gawked at, I was a person.
I was vulnerable and a little scared now; with all these feelings and memories running around my head. I made a joke to try to break my own tension, saying, "No, no please, invite some more people in, ha ha." I started babbling, I think I was talking about my time in the hospital. As far as I could tell, no one was listening to me, or if they did they didn't care, because they didn't say anything.
And that was it. The doctor did her exam, and I was out of there in a few minutes.
I walked out the door relieved that it was over, and feeling like I don't ever want to go back. I don't want to see that doctor again. Next time I'll make a different choice.
----
I've had many good, positive experiences with doctors and nurse-midwives over the last ten years. The great ones talk with me, they listen to me. They spend time to build a relationship with me. They treat me like a person, using empathy to build a better connection. This wasn't one of those times, and the lack of empathy in the experience was palpable.
How have your doctor experiences been lately?
If you are a doctor, please tell us about your experiences. Were you trained in empathy, do you see benefits (or lack of benefits) in doing your job?
Janet
*As usual, all names have been changed.
I didn't recognize the name. I asked, "Why am I coming in, I don't need a pap, right?" They confirmed that I didn't need a pap, just a standard visit this time. This was a relief since the pap is an invasive and uncomfortable test, and I'd rather not have some stranger doing it to me. So I agreed to see Dr. Lava*.
--
At the doctor's office I did the usual dance of filling out forms and handing over identification. I went to go to the bathroom, but it was occupied, so I waited. A person came out and I looked up, she stepped one way, I stepped the other and we pretty much crashed into each other. She was tall, a black woman with a round face, her hair in a bun and wearing red nurse's scrubs. She's squishy, I thought, and I had an odd urge to hug her as we tangled. We laughed, I apologized, she smiled and said, "It's okay" and then I went back to the waiting area.
A few minutes later, I was called in by the very same nurse I had just encountered. This was great, because our earlier run-in made it easy to slide into some friendly chatting. We talked about the weather, she introduced herself as Sheila, she asked me the standard questions. She had just started to pull out the blood pressure cuff when we were interrupted by a knock on the door.
A woman I didn't know poked her head inside. She said to us both in an educational tone, "Hi, Sheila's new, so I'm here to make sure that everything's covered." She didn't introduce herself, just came in and closed the door, then leaned against the wall. Whatever kind of relaxed atmosphere that the nurse and I had been building was now stopped in it's tracks because her supervisor was present. The room got very quiet. Sheila had finished the pre-exam steps and was about to leave when the second nurse told me to get undressed and prepare for my exam.
"But...I'm not getting a pap? What do you mean?" I looked at all of the tools laid out on the counter and thought, are those for me?
"No, you aren't having a pap." She said. "But you still get a pelvic exam. It's part of your checkup."
Then they both left.
I had a few minutes to change into my gown and absorb this new information before the doctor came in. Great, that's unexpected, I thought. Now someone I don't know will be poking around my private bits. Fun-fun-fun, I just hope it's over really quickly.
--
Dr. Lava came in. She was a tall woman with dark hair and an uncertain smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes.
She held out her hand and said, "Hi, I'm Dr. Lava, I haven't seen you in a long time." "Um, really?", I said, "Because I don't remember you at all." She insisted that we had met before, a few years ago. I said, "Um, okay." Why are we arguing? Then she asked me to lie down to start the exam.
To clearly paint the picture; I'm wearing a paper gown that opens in the front, held together with ties. So I'm nearly naked, cold in the office air-conditioning and flat on my back on a table about waist-high.
Then there was another rat-a-tat knock on the door, and Sheila came in. She left the door open behind her as she went to the computer. I'm seeing that door open and I'm thinking, I'm barely covered over here, what's going on, when is she going to close that door? I was about to say something when the mystery-nurse came in and shut it behind her with a snap.
I was a little unhappy before, but now I was really squirming. I was remembering now about another time, during my first childbirth experience at a hospital. Then, a large group of nurses and staff came in to watch the big event; live and up-close. I thought, hey, doctor, I'm not some kind of a circus sideshow to be gawked at, I was a person.
I was vulnerable and a little scared now; with all these feelings and memories running around my head. I made a joke to try to break my own tension, saying, "No, no please, invite some more people in, ha ha." I started babbling, I think I was talking about my time in the hospital. As far as I could tell, no one was listening to me, or if they did they didn't care, because they didn't say anything.
And that was it. The doctor did her exam, and I was out of there in a few minutes.
I walked out the door relieved that it was over, and feeling like I don't ever want to go back. I don't want to see that doctor again. Next time I'll make a different choice.
----
I've had many good, positive experiences with doctors and nurse-midwives over the last ten years. The great ones talk with me, they listen to me. They spend time to build a relationship with me. They treat me like a person, using empathy to build a better connection. This wasn't one of those times, and the lack of empathy in the experience was palpable.
How have your doctor experiences been lately?
If you are a doctor, please tell us about your experiences. Were you trained in empathy, do you see benefits (or lack of benefits) in doing your job?
Janet
*As usual, all names have been changed.
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
...tis a gathering
I'm very excited for today. I've got my friends coming over for a play date.
When I was a kid we didn't make play dates; there was no point because I would see and talk to my friends every single day. I would go to school and there they were, in my classes or in the hallways. We would have lunch together. We would leave school at the same time and, because I couldn't bear to spend another second apart from them I would stay after school and hang out on the street talking to them some more, until the very last absolute second when I had to leave. I would walk out of my door and enter the world of 'with friends' and not leave it until the second I pulled out my keys to unlock my door again and was home. I love thinking about this time in my life; because I was completely part of a group. I belonged to a group of people who cared about me and wanted me around as much as I wanted to be with them.
*snif*
Yeah, good times.
I remember being a kid and thinking about what it would be like to have a job and be all grown up; I thought I would be simply doing an exchange. I was trading 'school time' for 'job time'. Both required me to be at a fixed place doing fixed things for periods of time every day, so I didn't see a difference.
In my case, the difference was that I didn't stay in my old neighborhood. So for me to see those old friends now takes a whole lot of effort, coordination, patience, and some last minute phone calls and text messaging.
But it's totally worth it to see my friends again. It feels like this.
Janet
When I was a kid we didn't make play dates; there was no point because I would see and talk to my friends every single day. I would go to school and there they were, in my classes or in the hallways. We would have lunch together. We would leave school at the same time and, because I couldn't bear to spend another second apart from them I would stay after school and hang out on the street talking to them some more, until the very last absolute second when I had to leave. I would walk out of my door and enter the world of 'with friends' and not leave it until the second I pulled out my keys to unlock my door again and was home. I love thinking about this time in my life; because I was completely part of a group. I belonged to a group of people who cared about me and wanted me around as much as I wanted to be with them.
*snif*
Yeah, good times.
I remember being a kid and thinking about what it would be like to have a job and be all grown up; I thought I would be simply doing an exchange. I was trading 'school time' for 'job time'. Both required me to be at a fixed place doing fixed things for periods of time every day, so I didn't see a difference.
In my case, the difference was that I didn't stay in my old neighborhood. So for me to see those old friends now takes a whole lot of effort, coordination, patience, and some last minute phone calls and text messaging.
But it's totally worth it to see my friends again. It feels like this.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Empathy is a tool, and tools are used to fix things. What does empathy fix?
Empathy is not the solution to all problems. It's not a master key or a bandage for all wounds or a fix-it tool that repairs all relationships and will bring about world peace. And yet
Empathy is clearly a motivator.
If you see the humanity in others who are suffering, then you are more likely to reach out and lend them a hand.
If you see that the person you disagree with as a reasonable, rational human being, then you will be motivated to find a solution that benefits both of you.
If you are hurting, perhaps practicing empathy will allow you to see the humanity in others. You will know, from your practice, that those around you have also been hurt. You will feel less alone. You may even be motivated to reach out to them for help.
Empathy will help me do my job better. If I have co-workers or employees, empathy is going to help me get along better with them, which makes for a better working environment, which makes for more productive employees and a better business model. If I am self-employed, empathy will help me to connect with my customers and perhaps see better ways to deliver my product or services.
Empathy is a tool that helps us overcome our internal obstacles. I may want to be kind others; and empathy helps motivate me to do it. I go back to my original thought of so long ago; it may be wrong for me to want to help one person who's standing in front of me, over thousands that really need help. But if I'm choosing between helping one and helping none - I choose to help one.
What drives you?
Janet
Empathy is clearly a motivator.
If you see the humanity in others who are suffering, then you are more likely to reach out and lend them a hand.
If you see that the person you disagree with as a reasonable, rational human being, then you will be motivated to find a solution that benefits both of you.
If you are hurting, perhaps practicing empathy will allow you to see the humanity in others. You will know, from your practice, that those around you have also been hurt. You will feel less alone. You may even be motivated to reach out to them for help.
Empathy will help me do my job better. If I have co-workers or employees, empathy is going to help me get along better with them, which makes for a better working environment, which makes for more productive employees and a better business model. If I am self-employed, empathy will help me to connect with my customers and perhaps see better ways to deliver my product or services.
Empathy is a tool that helps us overcome our internal obstacles. I may want to be kind others; and empathy helps motivate me to do it. I go back to my original thought of so long ago; it may be wrong for me to want to help one person who's standing in front of me, over thousands that really need help. But if I'm choosing between helping one and helping none - I choose to help one.
What drives you?
Janet
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Driving with empathy
By their nature, cars impede empathy.
Which is good, because when we're driving we need to be able to focus on the road and the cars and the signs and the traffic. We can't spend our time communicating and reaching out, we have to be isolated in our cars, separated from the world and flying down highways at amazing speeds in a little metal box.
I've heard about the new self-driving cars and trucks being tested and I'm all for them. I think we should be able to stop worrying about protecting our lives while we drive, and get back to the incredibly difficult task of living our lives and being people.
----
I'm going to get a little Luddite here; I think that driving is the most unnatural thing we do as humans and we should find a better way to do it. Perhaps it's the lonely nature of a ritual commute or the fact that it's wholly unlike anything our early human ancestors would have ever done, but it doesn't feel like it's what we should be spending hours or days or weeks of our life doing.
The closest 'natural' experience I have to driving is walking. I imagine that I'm strolling down a street, keeping a certain distance from the people around me. Other people are moving too, but they are moving at close to the same speed as me, so it doesn't look like we're all moving very fast. My instincts tell me this is a reasonably safe thing to do, because it is. When I'm walking there's little chance that bumping into another person will result in my immediate death or harm.
------
Driving feels like walking, but it's also such an inhuman experience. We don't see and understand the stresses of our fellow drivers, we don't have their faces to interpret. We don't talk to them and they don't listen (well, maybe we do but they don't hear us). Perhaps that's what makes it feel so unnatural.
There are some people who are inventing ways to better communicate while driving (see the Wiper Wave). I wondered if there were other great ideas out there for a special invention or 'empathy system', so I asked my Facebook friends for help.
I did get some responses; such as "Front and back lights display one word messages that can be voice activated by driver" or the "Apology sign.". These types of responses are like the Wiper Wave, because they are about expressing ourselves ('talking') while we drive. One person even wanted telepathy, the ultimate communication!
Talking is a two-way street, though, and someone has to listen. One of my friends said that we don't need a better way of communicating at all; instead, we need to all pay more attention to the signals we're already sending and receiving; such as lights and hand gestures. I'm not sure I agree; but it does tell me that we're not treating each other like people on the roads.
Unlike a nice saunter down an avenue, driving (especially commuting) is very dull. I'm just completely done with the same roads and the same cars and the same highway signs. Sure, when the seasons change it gets a little more interesting but it's still tedious. Getting bored is apparently a common thing, and more importantly, when we get bored we stop paying attention to anything and people get hurt. (See bored, bored and bored).
----
Which is good, because when we're driving we need to be able to focus on the road and the cars and the signs and the traffic. We can't spend our time communicating and reaching out, we have to be isolated in our cars, separated from the world and flying down highways at amazing speeds in a little metal box.
I've heard about the new self-driving cars and trucks being tested and I'm all for them. I think we should be able to stop worrying about protecting our lives while we drive, and get back to the incredibly difficult task of living our lives and being people.
----
I'm going to get a little Luddite here; I think that driving is the most unnatural thing we do as humans and we should find a better way to do it. Perhaps it's the lonely nature of a ritual commute or the fact that it's wholly unlike anything our early human ancestors would have ever done, but it doesn't feel like it's what we should be spending hours or days or weeks of our life doing.
The closest 'natural' experience I have to driving is walking. I imagine that I'm strolling down a street, keeping a certain distance from the people around me. Other people are moving too, but they are moving at close to the same speed as me, so it doesn't look like we're all moving very fast. My instincts tell me this is a reasonably safe thing to do, because it is. When I'm walking there's little chance that bumping into another person will result in my immediate death or harm.
------
Driving feels like walking, but it's also such an inhuman experience. We don't see and understand the stresses of our fellow drivers, we don't have their faces to interpret. We don't talk to them and they don't listen (well, maybe we do but they don't hear us). Perhaps that's what makes it feel so unnatural.
There are some people who are inventing ways to better communicate while driving (see the Wiper Wave). I wondered if there were other great ideas out there for a special invention or 'empathy system', so I asked my Facebook friends for help.
I did get some responses; such as "Front and back lights display one word messages that can be voice activated by driver" or the "Apology sign.". These types of responses are like the Wiper Wave, because they are about expressing ourselves ('talking') while we drive. One person even wanted telepathy, the ultimate communication!
Talking is a two-way street, though, and someone has to listen. One of my friends said that we don't need a better way of communicating at all; instead, we need to all pay more attention to the signals we're already sending and receiving; such as lights and hand gestures. I'm not sure I agree; but it does tell me that we're not treating each other like people on the roads.
Unlike a nice saunter down an avenue, driving (especially commuting) is very dull. I'm just completely done with the same roads and the same cars and the same highway signs. Sure, when the seasons change it gets a little more interesting but it's still tedious. Getting bored is apparently a common thing, and more importantly, when we get bored we stop paying attention to anything and people get hurt. (See bored, bored and bored).
----
I imagine a future where I enter a road on my regular commute, and my car (all by itself) locks into place directly next to someone else's car. I'm not driving anymore, I'm riding. So maybe I'll relax, make a few calls and talk to my friends or family. Maybe I'll be working already, talking with someone over a computer screen or finishing up a project with my team. Or maybe I'll strike up a conversation with Sonia, the girl in the car next to mine.
Optimistically,
Janet
tldr: Self-driving cars will be great, because then we won't be bored and we'll start talking to each other again.
tldr: Self-driving cars will be great, because then we won't be bored and we'll start talking to each other again.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Unwanted connections - A story (trigger warning)
I think it's pretty clear that in our society, we are not allowed to touch each other without permission.
I wish the event I'm going to tell you about hadn't happened. I wish I was telling you a story about a great time at the roller rink with my family. Instead, I'm asking you to think about what gives a guy the idea it's okay to grab someone he doesn't know. I should just accept it, since this is the culture we live in, right? Yes? Except that's not right. He was wrong. It's wrong. Here's my story.
----
I saw the couple as I finished the turnaround. They were together, a boy with light brown wavy hair and a teenage girl with an oval face; they were laughing and talking as I went past them.
I picked up some speed and swung my arms around, back and forth to get momentum. I was relaxed and having a great time moving fast and feeling the breeze through my hair, when suddenly he grabbed my hand. I looked up and saw him, the same boy I had just seen with his girl. His mouth was wide open in a grin as he sang along to the song that was blasting from the speakers. His other hand was waving around in the air; he seemed to be dancing.
I was thinking fast. He was holding my hand tight, and skating at my speed. What is this? Who is he? Where's that girl he was with? What is going on? Why doesn't he let me go?
I was surrounded by families, kids, people. The crowd was thick, I couldn't just turn or slow down without risking hurting someone around me. I didn't want to make a scene. I relaxed my hand, but he did not let go.
All of this was in the space of a few seconds - by this time we were halfway down the long side. Since I couldn't stop or turn away I tried skating faster, faster than I was comfortable with, trying to force him to let go. I pulled my hand hard as I pushed down on the wheels and finally, I was away from him.
Finally.
I shook my hand in the air a few times, trying to sort out what happened. I found my husband, and told him about it. I tried to tell it as a laugh, a joke of a story, "Ha ha, you won't believe what just happened."
I went and washed my hands in the bathroom.
Later, my husband asked me about it. He couldn't understand why I thought this was a joke, why I wanted to make fun of it. He didn't think it was funny. I told him that yeah, it wasn't funny at all. It instead felt icky, like I was wearing coal tar or glue; I wanted to get the feeling off of me as fast as possible.
I was also embarrassed - really, really ashamed. I'm the empathy-gal, right? So maybe I did something to encourage this. Maybe I was doing exactly what my mother tells me all the time not to do; don't let your guard down, don't be open to strangers, don't put yourself at risk, etc.
----
I stopped feeling bad, though, for two reasons. First, I know that building empathy isn't possible without being open to new connections. It's part of what is important to me; and nothing (not even this guy) will stop me from trying to draw others in. I will keep working hard to smile at strangers, to nod at other customers in stores and to start conversations with my fellow patients at the doctor's office. I will keep myself open, and that's what I'm hoping some of you are working on too.
Second, I know beyond any doubt that nothing about my being 'open' and 'welcoming' and 'friendly to strangers' meant that I asked for this. They are almost opposite actions; what I do is about creating relationships, what he did was about treating me like a toy.
-----
What does bother me is that I didn't make a scene. I didn't yell, or scream, or say, 'hey, you, let go' or anything like that. I didn't say no, and maybe that sent him a message that grabbing a stranger's hand is okay. Or maybe not. I'll never know.
What would you have done?
Has something like this happened to you?
Janet
I wish the event I'm going to tell you about hadn't happened. I wish I was telling you a story about a great time at the roller rink with my family. Instead, I'm asking you to think about what gives a guy the idea it's okay to grab someone he doesn't know. I should just accept it, since this is the culture we live in, right? Yes? Except that's not right. He was wrong. It's wrong. Here's my story.
----
I saw the couple as I finished the turnaround. They were together, a boy with light brown wavy hair and a teenage girl with an oval face; they were laughing and talking as I went past them.
I picked up some speed and swung my arms around, back and forth to get momentum. I was relaxed and having a great time moving fast and feeling the breeze through my hair, when suddenly he grabbed my hand. I looked up and saw him, the same boy I had just seen with his girl. His mouth was wide open in a grin as he sang along to the song that was blasting from the speakers. His other hand was waving around in the air; he seemed to be dancing.
I was thinking fast. He was holding my hand tight, and skating at my speed. What is this? Who is he? Where's that girl he was with? What is going on? Why doesn't he let me go?
I was surrounded by families, kids, people. The crowd was thick, I couldn't just turn or slow down without risking hurting someone around me. I didn't want to make a scene. I relaxed my hand, but he did not let go.
All of this was in the space of a few seconds - by this time we were halfway down the long side. Since I couldn't stop or turn away I tried skating faster, faster than I was comfortable with, trying to force him to let go. I pulled my hand hard as I pushed down on the wheels and finally, I was away from him.
Finally.
I shook my hand in the air a few times, trying to sort out what happened. I found my husband, and told him about it. I tried to tell it as a laugh, a joke of a story, "Ha ha, you won't believe what just happened."
I went and washed my hands in the bathroom.
Later, my husband asked me about it. He couldn't understand why I thought this was a joke, why I wanted to make fun of it. He didn't think it was funny. I told him that yeah, it wasn't funny at all. It instead felt icky, like I was wearing coal tar or glue; I wanted to get the feeling off of me as fast as possible.
I was also embarrassed - really, really ashamed. I'm the empathy-gal, right? So maybe I did something to encourage this. Maybe I was doing exactly what my mother tells me all the time not to do; don't let your guard down, don't be open to strangers, don't put yourself at risk, etc.
----
I stopped feeling bad, though, for two reasons. First, I know that building empathy isn't possible without being open to new connections. It's part of what is important to me; and nothing (not even this guy) will stop me from trying to draw others in. I will keep working hard to smile at strangers, to nod at other customers in stores and to start conversations with my fellow patients at the doctor's office. I will keep myself open, and that's what I'm hoping some of you are working on too.
Second, I know beyond any doubt that nothing about my being 'open' and 'welcoming' and 'friendly to strangers' meant that I asked for this. They are almost opposite actions; what I do is about creating relationships, what he did was about treating me like a toy.
-----
What does bother me is that I didn't make a scene. I didn't yell, or scream, or say, 'hey, you, let go' or anything like that. I didn't say no, and maybe that sent him a message that grabbing a stranger's hand is okay. Or maybe not. I'll never know.
What would you have done?
Has something like this happened to you?
Janet
Monday, March 16, 2015
Lost and gained opportunities - location, location, location
Does where you live give you a better 'empathy' environment?
Several years ago, I took a sociology class. The teacher talked about a city environment, where we have social 'circles' that we spend time living in. These circles are the folks we see on the bus every day, our co-workers or classmates, the people we see at the grocery store on Saturday mornings and the crowd at the bar at night. There may be nobody in common among all of these circles - that means that my past days as a city dweller were filled with the chance to meet lots and lots of new people.
Look; a diagram!
I left the city over 10 years ago. My reality now is that I still do have these 'social circles' around me, but they are very few and they have many more people in common. The crowd I meet at the school with my kids are the same people I would see at the grocery store, or at the local coffee bar. Also, I travel in a car and not by bus or train; so I'm not likely to meet anyone when going from one place to another.
I think that leaving the city means I left the numerous circles behind, and as a result, have fewer interactions. It seems obvious now - if I live where there are fewer people then I will meet fewer people in my daily life. So is it better?
-----
I have no regrets about leaving the city, because I don't think my ability to grow empathy is really affected by how many people I *could* meet every day. All that matters, for me, is to try to make every chance count. If I, by choosing to live in the country, run into less people, that just means I have to be super purposeful with the people I do meet.
My community is the place where I can take my empathy chances. My community just happens to be a bit smaller than it used to be.
What about you - Where you live, do you have lots of opportunities, or very few? Do you think that where you live makes a difference in your chances to grow your empathy muscles?
Janet
Several years ago, I took a sociology class. The teacher talked about a city environment, where we have social 'circles' that we spend time living in. These circles are the folks we see on the bus every day, our co-workers or classmates, the people we see at the grocery store on Saturday mornings and the crowd at the bar at night. There may be nobody in common among all of these circles - that means that my past days as a city dweller were filled with the chance to meet lots and lots of new people.
Look; a diagram!
I left the city over 10 years ago. My reality now is that I still do have these 'social circles' around me, but they are very few and they have many more people in common. The crowd I meet at the school with my kids are the same people I would see at the grocery store, or at the local coffee bar. Also, I travel in a car and not by bus or train; so I'm not likely to meet anyone when going from one place to another.
I think that leaving the city means I left the numerous circles behind, and as a result, have fewer interactions. It seems obvious now - if I live where there are fewer people then I will meet fewer people in my daily life. So is it better?
-----
I have no regrets about leaving the city, because I don't think my ability to grow empathy is really affected by how many people I *could* meet every day. All that matters, for me, is to try to make every chance count. If I, by choosing to live in the country, run into less people, that just means I have to be super purposeful with the people I do meet.
My community is the place where I can take my empathy chances. My community just happens to be a bit smaller than it used to be.
What about you - Where you live, do you have lots of opportunities, or very few? Do you think that where you live makes a difference in your chances to grow your empathy muscles?
Janet
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
enough about me already, let's hear about you
Today I'd like to ask you something. I'm asking you to put yourself in someone else's place. You can choose anyone, and any way you think best. We can do it together.
Perhaps you'd like to read a blog from a woman who has pushed through suffering.
http://lftside.blogspot.com/
Perhaps some of you will go see the movie, "Still Alice", and step inside someone with early onset dementia. Or you can read the book.
Perhaps some of you will try to listen to a stranger, a friend or a family member today.
----
If any of you decide to do this exercise with me; please tell me (in the comments below) how it worked out. Or perhaps tell us all about a recent experience.
I'd love to hear from you.
Janet
Perhaps you'd like to read a blog from a woman who has pushed through suffering.
http://lftside.blogspot.com/
Perhaps some of you will go see the movie, "Still Alice", and step inside someone with early onset dementia. Or you can read the book.
Perhaps some of you will try to listen to a stranger, a friend or a family member today.
----
If any of you decide to do this exercise with me; please tell me (in the comments below) how it worked out. Or perhaps tell us all about a recent experience.
I'd love to hear from you.
Janet
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
7 point three billion people
As of this writing, the World Population Clock tells me that there about 7.3 billion people on the planet. That's an enormous amount of people.
Growing up in New York City, something I used to hear was, "If you want to do something on a Saturday in NY, chances are that at least 10,000 other people have had the exact same idea." To me, it's not about the number of people out there, it's about how many of them are having the same idea that I have. They are reaching out. Maybe they feel alone, and they want to connect too.
---
I know that I'm alone in my own mind. The feelings we feel are personal, and only make sense to the person who is feeling them.
In the below video, you'll see a summary of how we see colors. The red that I think I see, is maybe not the same red that you think you see. I'm not you; so I don't know if we're observing it the same way.
---
What I do know is that all 7.2 billion of us have felt sad and happy at some point in our lives; and all of us know what feeling sad and happy means to us. So if I see someone crying, I can't say I know that they are sad. Maybe they just have something stuck in their eye. If I see someone laughing, I can't say I know that they are happy.
All I can do is ask them how they are feeling. Maybe they will tell me.
What does feeling happy feel like for you?
Janet
Growing up in New York City, something I used to hear was, "If you want to do something on a Saturday in NY, chances are that at least 10,000 other people have had the exact same idea." To me, it's not about the number of people out there, it's about how many of them are having the same idea that I have. They are reaching out. Maybe they feel alone, and they want to connect too.
---
I know that I'm alone in my own mind. The feelings we feel are personal, and only make sense to the person who is feeling them.
In the below video, you'll see a summary of how we see colors. The red that I think I see, is maybe not the same red that you think you see. I'm not you; so I don't know if we're observing it the same way.
I think that the feelings we feel are (like the colors) something that we can't know just by looking at a person.
When I see you crying; I can't say 'you are sad'. I don't know why you cry. I don't know what it's like to feel things the same way that you feel things, I can't. I don't know what sadness feels like to you any more than I know what red is to you. I don't know what your 'sad' or 'happy' feels like.
---
What I do know is that all 7.2 billion of us have felt sad and happy at some point in our lives; and all of us know what feeling sad and happy means to us. So if I see someone crying, I can't say I know that they are sad. Maybe they just have something stuck in their eye. If I see someone laughing, I can't say I know that they are happy.
All I can do is ask them how they are feeling. Maybe they will tell me.
What does feeling happy feel like for you?
Janet
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Practicing empathy with my children - two great ideas
I've heard it from other parents and I say it to myself. My kids drive me crazy sometimes.
"Put away your shoes ," I say. "No" they say back. Or I say, "Please go wash your hands, they are filthy." "No, they're not, I'm gonna go play." Etcetera. Every second of every day, over and over again, most conversations are arguments. The battlefield is our kitchen and every household chore hides a landmine. I'm getting back everything I ever said to my mother and I'm getting it in chorus (from both my girls, as they sing "I don't wanna do my home---work" to the tune of "Do you want to build a snow-man?").
A while ago I asked a friend of mine to write a guest post for us about building empathy in children. I asked her to write for me for two reasons; first, she's an expert with kids and parents. Second; I had no idea how to start building empathy for my own growing children. They were 6 and 2, at the time, and I was totally lost.
Ever since then I've been thinking about it; I've been reading articles and listening to podcasts, all trying to find a way to connect with them and to break the argument cycle. As my kids get older I think, are they ready? Can I try to build some empathy in them, or have empathy for them?
Recently, I came across a quick sequence of podcasts talking about empathy and kids, by Dr. Charles Ray of the Love & Logic Institute*.
RSS Feed for the podcasts.
Or click to hear Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4 (each one is about 10 minutes long).
Dr. Fay is a little cheesy but he talks a good talk. He said:
- We lose our patience with our kids
- Losing our patience means we get mad, we get emotional, and
- When we yell, we hurt our relationship with our kids
- Breaking the argument cycle is about having that good relationship, and about building empathy
I took two thoughts away from the podcast that have really, REALLY helped me to slow down the arguing and fighting. I don't do them all the time, but so far these two have brought a ton of empathy into my house.
"I love you too much to argue." If my child takes the fight to me ("No, I don't want to eat my vegetables.") I can fight back, sure. However, if I do fight back I'm telling them, "Yes, this is a problem between you and me". Instead of engaging them, I should pretend I'm just the messenger of the rule. I have to take myself out of the equation; I'm just the one letting them know what the rules are, and the consequences of those rules. In the end it's their problem to solve. I can help them solve it by having empathy for their situation, but it's not my job to convince them the rule is correct.
The sticky note technique. Let's say I want to remember to have empathy for my kids and not to argue with them. The idea is to pick an empathetic statement, and use it over and over again. If I need to, I can put the phrase on sticky notes and paste them up all around the house. Empathetic statements are things like, "Ohhhh, man. how sad." Or "Ohhhhh. I know."
-----
I've been using these two ideas together for about two weeks now, and I've been surprised how well they work.
I saw my 3-year old daughter get up from the table with all of her food left. I said, "What are you doing, you still have food in your bowl." She said, "I'm all done, I don't want anymore." I looked at her and I said, "Ohhhhh, I know. I know you don't want anymore." I just looked at her. She looked back. And miracle of miracles; instead of arguing, she just sat back at the table and ate her food.
Seriously! It worked really well! One empathetic statement cut the fight off at the knees.
----
As a parting thought; I know darn well that if I try to do one of these things when I'm mad, or stressed, or tired, I should just forget it. I've talked before about how hard it is to feel empathy when some other feeling is overwhelming me (like anger, or fear). As a result, if I'm already ticked off and ready to explode, this doesn't really happen. I just know that it's a great tool for my parenting toolbox.
For those of you who are caregivers, do you fight with those you care for? What tools are in your toolbox to stop the arguing? Please add your thoughts in the comments below.
Janet
*Love & Logic is a company, so they ask for money for their services (seminars, videos, etc.). The podcasts are free, and I didn't get any money from them for writing this.
"Put away your shoes ," I say. "No" they say back. Or I say, "Please go wash your hands, they are filthy." "No, they're not, I'm gonna go play." Etcetera. Every second of every day, over and over again, most conversations are arguments. The battlefield is our kitchen and every household chore hides a landmine. I'm getting back everything I ever said to my mother and I'm getting it in chorus (from both my girls, as they sing "I don't wanna do my home---work" to the tune of "Do you want to build a snow-man?").
A while ago I asked a friend of mine to write a guest post for us about building empathy in children. I asked her to write for me for two reasons; first, she's an expert with kids and parents. Second; I had no idea how to start building empathy for my own growing children. They were 6 and 2, at the time, and I was totally lost.
Ever since then I've been thinking about it; I've been reading articles and listening to podcasts, all trying to find a way to connect with them and to break the argument cycle. As my kids get older I think, are they ready? Can I try to build some empathy in them, or have empathy for them?
Recently, I came across a quick sequence of podcasts talking about empathy and kids, by Dr. Charles Ray of the Love & Logic Institute*.
RSS Feed for the podcasts.
Or click to hear Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4 (each one is about 10 minutes long).
Dr. Fay is a little cheesy but he talks a good talk. He said:
- We lose our patience with our kids
- Losing our patience means we get mad, we get emotional, and
- When we yell, we hurt our relationship with our kids
- Breaking the argument cycle is about having that good relationship, and about building empathy
I took two thoughts away from the podcast that have really, REALLY helped me to slow down the arguing and fighting. I don't do them all the time, but so far these two have brought a ton of empathy into my house.
"I love you too much to argue." If my child takes the fight to me ("No, I don't want to eat my vegetables.") I can fight back, sure. However, if I do fight back I'm telling them, "Yes, this is a problem between you and me". Instead of engaging them, I should pretend I'm just the messenger of the rule. I have to take myself out of the equation; I'm just the one letting them know what the rules are, and the consequences of those rules. In the end it's their problem to solve. I can help them solve it by having empathy for their situation, but it's not my job to convince them the rule is correct.
The sticky note technique. Let's say I want to remember to have empathy for my kids and not to argue with them. The idea is to pick an empathetic statement, and use it over and over again. If I need to, I can put the phrase on sticky notes and paste them up all around the house. Empathetic statements are things like, "Ohhhh, man. how sad." Or "Ohhhhh. I know."
-----
I've been using these two ideas together for about two weeks now, and I've been surprised how well they work.
I saw my 3-year old daughter get up from the table with all of her food left. I said, "What are you doing, you still have food in your bowl." She said, "I'm all done, I don't want anymore." I looked at her and I said, "Ohhhhh, I know. I know you don't want anymore." I just looked at her. She looked back. And miracle of miracles; instead of arguing, she just sat back at the table and ate her food.
Seriously! It worked really well! One empathetic statement cut the fight off at the knees.
----
As a parting thought; I know darn well that if I try to do one of these things when I'm mad, or stressed, or tired, I should just forget it. I've talked before about how hard it is to feel empathy when some other feeling is overwhelming me (like anger, or fear). As a result, if I'm already ticked off and ready to explode, this doesn't really happen. I just know that it's a great tool for my parenting toolbox.
For those of you who are caregivers, do you fight with those you care for? What tools are in your toolbox to stop the arguing? Please add your thoughts in the comments below.
Janet
*Love & Logic is a company, so they ask for money for their services (seminars, videos, etc.). The podcasts are free, and I didn't get any money from them for writing this.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Empathy, Race and Trials - the downside of unconscious empathy
I've been thinking this week about unconscious empathy. Unconscious empathy is when I feel an immediate connection with a person - maybe because I see or hear something about them that reminds me of myself. This kind of empathy is not intentional; and because it's not intentional I believe that it's just too easy for me to make mistakes when doing it.
----
In 2014, there were a lot of news stories about how people like me, white Americans, are racist. The articles talk about how we treat people unconsciously with bias and disrespect. We walk on the other side of the street from people of a different race. We glare at strangers with hoodies walking through our neighborhoods.
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In 2014, there were a lot of news stories about how people like me, white Americans, are racist. The articles talk about how we treat people unconsciously with bias and disrespect. We walk on the other side of the street from people of a different race. We glare at strangers with hoodies walking through our neighborhoods.
I connect this with empathy because in these examples, we are not empathizing with the people we see at all. I see this because in the same way that I automatically empathize with those who are like me, I do not automatically empathize with those people who are unlike me. It's not done on purpose; I'm not thinking about my behavior. I'm just doing it.
If I don't empathize with the person who is unlike me, I am more likely to treat them with disrespect. This comes to mind when I think about the extreme examples; the shooting of Michael Brown and subsequent decision not to bring the case to trial, and the killing of Eric Garner and the dismissal of charges against the police officer. I don't know what happened in those cases any more than you do; but I do know that if I have empathy for someone, I don't want to hurt them. How can I? They are like me.
This lack of empathy by me (one person) can grow from something small to something big when I think about how it affects the system at large, for example, when I consider a trial by jury.
I found this great article on Juror Empathy and Race by Professor Douglas O. Linder*. He makes a lot of interesting points about how juries are generally more empathetic towards the defendant (or the victim) if they share the same race. A jury is told to treat everyone equally, and to only listen to the facts of a case. Yet in case after case, it appears that we still act unconsciously to have more empathy to those who are like us, and to have less empathy for those who are unlike us. Men with less empathy to women. Whites with less empathy to people of color. Cisgender with less empathy for transgender. Etc.
A long time ago I told a story about how I had empathy for a mom at the airport, and how I felt drawn to help her. I look back on that story and think, "what a great example of unconscious empathy". I'm just not sure anymore if it's a good story or a bad one; if it's good, it's good because I helped that woman. If it's a bad story, it's because it tells me that if I was put on a jury, I too could make a bad choice. If a mom committed a crime, would I be less likely to convict her? What about someone who was accused of hurting a child, would I be more likely to convict them?
----
One of the other interesting points in the article is that educated people are less likely to be chosen for a jury. I don't agree with excluding this group. If I'm on trial, I would want a jury of people who spend more time thinking, and less time reacting. I would want someone judging me who was aware of the unconscious biases in our culture, and was prepared to go against them.
Janet
*http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/juryseminar/JurorEmpathy.html by Douglas O. Linder link pulled 1/6/2015
If I don't empathize with the person who is unlike me, I am more likely to treat them with disrespect. This comes to mind when I think about the extreme examples; the shooting of Michael Brown and subsequent decision not to bring the case to trial, and the killing of Eric Garner and the dismissal of charges against the police officer. I don't know what happened in those cases any more than you do; but I do know that if I have empathy for someone, I don't want to hurt them. How can I? They are like me.
This lack of empathy by me (one person) can grow from something small to something big when I think about how it affects the system at large, for example, when I consider a trial by jury.
I found this great article on Juror Empathy and Race by Professor Douglas O. Linder*. He makes a lot of interesting points about how juries are generally more empathetic towards the defendant (or the victim) if they share the same race. A jury is told to treat everyone equally, and to only listen to the facts of a case. Yet in case after case, it appears that we still act unconsciously to have more empathy to those who are like us, and to have less empathy for those who are unlike us. Men with less empathy to women. Whites with less empathy to people of color. Cisgender with less empathy for transgender. Etc.
A long time ago I told a story about how I had empathy for a mom at the airport, and how I felt drawn to help her. I look back on that story and think, "what a great example of unconscious empathy". I'm just not sure anymore if it's a good story or a bad one; if it's good, it's good because I helped that woman. If it's a bad story, it's because it tells me that if I was put on a jury, I too could make a bad choice. If a mom committed a crime, would I be less likely to convict her? What about someone who was accused of hurting a child, would I be more likely to convict them?
----
One of the other interesting points in the article is that educated people are less likely to be chosen for a jury. I don't agree with excluding this group. If I'm on trial, I would want a jury of people who spend more time thinking, and less time reacting. I would want someone judging me who was aware of the unconscious biases in our culture, and was prepared to go against them.
Janet
*http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/juryseminar/JurorEmpathy.html by Douglas O. Linder link pulled 1/6/2015
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Dear @Shialabeouf I'm sorry I read your interview
Dear @ShiaLaBeouf,
Today I read your interview. It made me sad, and I cried. I'm actually very sorry that I read your interview because it was too personal. I got a very good look inside your head - and as much as I know about you, you know nothing about me - and that doesn't seem fair.
Janet
-----
If I have empathy for someone I see on TV or read in a book or magazine, is that false? What good does it do for me to build empathy with someone that I'll never meet, and may not even be real? There's a difference between the feeling of empathy (I feel/imagine feeling what you are feeling) and a real connection between two people. What is a 'connection', anyway but a shared knowing and understanding of each other's feelings? If I know your feelings but you don't know mine, then I don't believe it's a real connection because it doesn't go two ways.
In the Shia LaBeouf interview, he expresses a range of feelings; anger, frustration, acceptance, and pain. Through his words (filtered through the interviewer's perspective) I think that I know what Shia is feeling. I am being given exactly what I think I want; the view inside someone else's head. His head. If he's playing a role or he's just being himself, either way the empathy I feel is real.
When I watch a movie, hear a great song or read a story, I get so much more (in most cases) than I ever would in real life. A narrator gives us the background and details. The camera eye follows people around a room, listening to everyone's conversations. It is this omniscience that gives me the false idea that I am connected to them. When I see an actor showing emotions; my mind wants to believe that they are a real person and it's their emotions I'm seeing. I see an actor play a role and go through a tragedy, and I fall into the belief that it's their tragedy.
I know this is just a one-way street. It's not a sharing of feelings; because he's not seeing me as I see him. If my best friend told me a story about how she was attacked by a bear, I would want to help her. I would want her to know that my heart beat with hers, and that I could be there for her if she needed me.
But if someone is on TV and is not a friend, and I see them go through something horrible (or something wonderful) how can I tell them I want to help them (share their joy with them)? They are far away and unreachable. They are not real (and I know they are not real). I crave connection and at the same time, I feel very disconnected and unsatisfied.
----
I feel that the best actors are the ones who are able to get their heads inside of the characters they play. They become the people we believe them to be, for the short while they play them. That makes it real - even if it's only for the time that the camera is on and pointed in their direction. There is something real going on; there is a real person in there, expressing real feelings.
Then when the show is done and the microphones are gone; these actors put those characters aside and become themselves again. The fictional character is gone but that doesn't stop me from wanting to keep that feeling alive. I hold on to the moment of belief so that I pretend that the famous actor is still actually the person we think they are. He's still the captain of the Starship Enterprise. [Or maybe he is.] She's still Mrs. Smith [Or maybe she is.]. It's not real; but it feels real and sometimes I want to keep it that way.
Janet
Today I read your interview. It made me sad, and I cried. I'm actually very sorry that I read your interview because it was too personal. I got a very good look inside your head - and as much as I know about you, you know nothing about me - and that doesn't seem fair.
Janet
-----
If I have empathy for someone I see on TV or read in a book or magazine, is that false? What good does it do for me to build empathy with someone that I'll never meet, and may not even be real? There's a difference between the feeling of empathy (I feel/imagine feeling what you are feeling) and a real connection between two people. What is a 'connection', anyway but a shared knowing and understanding of each other's feelings? If I know your feelings but you don't know mine, then I don't believe it's a real connection because it doesn't go two ways.
In the Shia LaBeouf interview, he expresses a range of feelings; anger, frustration, acceptance, and pain. Through his words (filtered through the interviewer's perspective) I think that I know what Shia is feeling. I am being given exactly what I think I want; the view inside someone else's head. His head. If he's playing a role or he's just being himself, either way the empathy I feel is real.
When I watch a movie, hear a great song or read a story, I get so much more (in most cases) than I ever would in real life. A narrator gives us the background and details. The camera eye follows people around a room, listening to everyone's conversations. It is this omniscience that gives me the false idea that I am connected to them. When I see an actor showing emotions; my mind wants to believe that they are a real person and it's their emotions I'm seeing. I see an actor play a role and go through a tragedy, and I fall into the belief that it's their tragedy.
I know this is just a one-way street. It's not a sharing of feelings; because he's not seeing me as I see him. If my best friend told me a story about how she was attacked by a bear, I would want to help her. I would want her to know that my heart beat with hers, and that I could be there for her if she needed me.
But if someone is on TV and is not a friend, and I see them go through something horrible (or something wonderful) how can I tell them I want to help them (share their joy with them)? They are far away and unreachable. They are not real (and I know they are not real). I crave connection and at the same time, I feel very disconnected and unsatisfied.
----
I feel that the best actors are the ones who are able to get their heads inside of the characters they play. They become the people we believe them to be, for the short while they play them. That makes it real - even if it's only for the time that the camera is on and pointed in their direction. There is something real going on; there is a real person in there, expressing real feelings.
Then when the show is done and the microphones are gone; these actors put those characters aside and become themselves again. The fictional character is gone but that doesn't stop me from wanting to keep that feeling alive. I hold on to the moment of belief so that I pretend that the famous actor is still actually the person we think they are. He's still the captain of the Starship Enterprise. [Or maybe he is.] She's still Mrs. Smith [Or maybe she is.]. It's not real; but it feels real and sometimes I want to keep it that way.
Janet
Monday, November 24, 2014
Putting myself in your shoes - staying open
A friend the other day
asked me, "What does it mean to put yourself in someone else's shoes,
and what does that have to do with empathy? Does it help to put yourself inside someone else's head; and how could you really do that, since you don't know their thoughts?"
We went back and forth, trading ideas and trying to understand each other. In the end, we concluded that by "putting myself in someone else's shoes" I meant that I try to imagine what someone else's life is like. I do this for a specific reason, to leave myself open to building connections with people.
------
I (and I think most of us) categorize people automatically. I hear a voice and I think "Oh, that person is black" even if I've never met them.. I see someone dressed in a certain way and I think "Oh, that person is poor" even though I know nothing about them, their life or their situation. I believe that these thoughts are unstoppable; I have them because of experiences I've had, my life, the conversations I've heard and the things I've been taught. I call these "closed" thoughts - if I already know who you are and I already know you are different from me; what else is there for me to know? Why would I be curious about your life? Why would I bother to ask what makes you happy and sad? I already know everything about you from these labels and categories. You are fat. You are sick. You are (insert race/gender/class here).
Being "open" is about knowing I'm going to have these thoughts, but to not let these thoughts stick in my brain. Without them I have the space to make better choices. Sometimes being open is about letting these thoughts go. It's about being calm and relaxed, by using meditation or prayer. When I don't have time for that (which, in a house with kids and a fairly busy life happens more often than I'd like) then I try another way - distraction. Just like waving a shiny toy in front of a crying baby stops the tears; I look at you and imagine as many other possibilities for your life as I can to stop my mind's assumption train in it's tracks.
My point here (and yes, I have one) is that if I'm not closed, I'm open. If I can build a desire in myself to learn about you, I am open to building a connection with you. I'm opening myself up to find out who you really are.
------
Today, like some days, I'm watching the people around me and making up little stories about them.
I see two white ladies in their thirties both wearing blue sweaters, ordering their drinks at the local coffee bar. They are talking and seem to know each other. One has very baggy pants and clothing, with short hair and a slightly larger than average jowl line. The other is wearing a more revealing outfit, from this angle I can see the curve of her buttocks as they fill out her jeans. I think "Oh, they are friends, and one of them is the 'neat' one in the relationship, and the other one is the 'sloppy' one."
I hear myself, I catch myself having these thoughts and I try to use distraction to stop it. I start to imagine; maybe, maybe they are sisters on their way to a family event. Or, maybe they didn't come here together, but instead just ran into each other on their way to enjoy a spicy steamed milk and coffee drink, Maybe like me this is an ordinary day of an ordinary week for them, and this is just one step on their morning path.
I'm getting into a groove now, and I push my envelope just a little further outside of what I would consider 'normal'. I pretend something really good; maybe one of them just won the lottery! In that case, they are meeting because this is her lawyer, and she wants to talk about how to spend her winnings. Or, I pretend something sad; maybe one of them is here to tell the other about her mother, who just told them she has cancer. Maybe maybe maybe.
The point behind my exercise is I try to come up with several stories, each one a little more unexpected than the next. Each one a little further away from my first assumption about who they are and what they are doing.
By putting myself in someone else's shoes I'm imagining that their lives could be similar to my own, or I'm imagining that they could be vastly different. It's a way of letting go of categories. It's a way of allowing myself to see all the possibilities in life, and to grow my own curiosity about other people.
Janet
We went back and forth, trading ideas and trying to understand each other. In the end, we concluded that by "putting myself in someone else's shoes" I meant that I try to imagine what someone else's life is like. I do this for a specific reason, to leave myself open to building connections with people.
------
I (and I think most of us) categorize people automatically. I hear a voice and I think "Oh, that person is black" even if I've never met them.. I see someone dressed in a certain way and I think "Oh, that person is poor" even though I know nothing about them, their life or their situation. I believe that these thoughts are unstoppable; I have them because of experiences I've had, my life, the conversations I've heard and the things I've been taught. I call these "closed" thoughts - if I already know who you are and I already know you are different from me; what else is there for me to know? Why would I be curious about your life? Why would I bother to ask what makes you happy and sad? I already know everything about you from these labels and categories. You are fat. You are sick. You are (insert race/gender/class here).
Being "open" is about knowing I'm going to have these thoughts, but to not let these thoughts stick in my brain. Without them I have the space to make better choices. Sometimes being open is about letting these thoughts go. It's about being calm and relaxed, by using meditation or prayer. When I don't have time for that (which, in a house with kids and a fairly busy life happens more often than I'd like) then I try another way - distraction. Just like waving a shiny toy in front of a crying baby stops the tears; I look at you and imagine as many other possibilities for your life as I can to stop my mind's assumption train in it's tracks.
My point here (and yes, I have one) is that if I'm not closed, I'm open. If I can build a desire in myself to learn about you, I am open to building a connection with you. I'm opening myself up to find out who you really are.
------
Today, like some days, I'm watching the people around me and making up little stories about them.
I see two white ladies in their thirties both wearing blue sweaters, ordering their drinks at the local coffee bar. They are talking and seem to know each other. One has very baggy pants and clothing, with short hair and a slightly larger than average jowl line. The other is wearing a more revealing outfit, from this angle I can see the curve of her buttocks as they fill out her jeans. I think "Oh, they are friends, and one of them is the 'neat' one in the relationship, and the other one is the 'sloppy' one."
I hear myself, I catch myself having these thoughts and I try to use distraction to stop it. I start to imagine; maybe, maybe they are sisters on their way to a family event. Or, maybe they didn't come here together, but instead just ran into each other on their way to enjoy a spicy steamed milk and coffee drink, Maybe like me this is an ordinary day of an ordinary week for them, and this is just one step on their morning path.
I'm getting into a groove now, and I push my envelope just a little further outside of what I would consider 'normal'. I pretend something really good; maybe one of them just won the lottery! In that case, they are meeting because this is her lawyer, and she wants to talk about how to spend her winnings. Or, I pretend something sad; maybe one of them is here to tell the other about her mother, who just told them she has cancer. Maybe maybe maybe.
The point behind my exercise is I try to come up with several stories, each one a little more unexpected than the next. Each one a little further away from my first assumption about who they are and what they are doing.
By putting myself in someone else's shoes I'm imagining that their lives could be similar to my own, or I'm imagining that they could be vastly different. It's a way of letting go of categories. It's a way of allowing myself to see all the possibilities in life, and to grow my own curiosity about other people.
Janet
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