Teacher/Student

"I have come to believe over and over again, that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood.... My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you.... and while we wait in silence for that final luxury of fearlessness, the weight of that silence will choke us. The fact that we are here and that I speak these words is an attempt to break that silence and bridge some of those differences between us, for it is not difference which immobilizes us, but silence. And there are so many silences to be broken." (Audre Lorde)

I've never been a natural at social outings...

One of the more unexpected parts of adulthood for me has been the experience of suddenly losing old patterns of behavior-- things, like social anxiety, that always felt permanently embedded in my personality. Somehow, just like snakeskin, the human body knows when to get rid of obsolete psychological functions. They can and often do simply slip out of use when the time comes for them to go.

The funny thing is, it's often our inability to believe something has changed that makes an old pattern end up overstaying its welcome.

Finding your voice means you are then called to use it. Part of the act of finding it, too, means you've been refining its usage, whether you're aware of the fact or not. When we are called upon to speak, we are quite capable of doing it.

I remember the tremendous feeling of power I found in the words of Audre Lorde, when she wrote (in the context of fighting breast cancer) that our silence does nothing to protect us. She was really pointing out that there is nothing for people to gain by drowning out what they know. The truth can not be hidden forever. It floats upward like oil in water. This is not always apparent, since prevailing forces spend much time making sure that critical voices are quieted, whatever it takes. Many countercultural voices of great value have been explicitly given the choice between speaking their truth and having their lives taken or the quality of their lives reduced through violence or threats of violence. Lorde argued that this is a false choice: the underlying truth is we have more to fear from negating our voice, and that whenever we respond to fear with silence, we have handed over the very source of what makes our lives livable to an ill culture.

That's an idea to keep firmly in mind.

My struggle with this now is subtle. It lies in not totally believing my voice works, in being thrust into positions where I am speaking but am not used to having my words publicly received.

Part of speaking in public and of being received is that Americans are not very used to participatory discussion. We tend to place performer/audience or teacher/student roles upon anyone presenting information. We want to know who's in charge, who is supposed to speak, who is supposed to be listened to, and who we shouldn't bother paying attention to. Imagine walking into a room for a lecture: many people would get automatically anxious, maybe even leave, if it appeared that the room was set up for small-group discussion rather than for a traditional presentation from a podium (something that doesn't demand more from us than our apparent attention...)

This is hierarchy. It is hard to challenge. I have found myself unsure of how to respond to feedback on my work lately, because I keep assuming I am being responded to as something of an authority figure. I know I am not an authority on anything but the glimpses of life I have lived through, and that teacher/student roles are very fluid things. The tricky part is bringing this view to the surface in conversation, asking questions about content and ideas and having discussion allow everyone involved to contribute.

Not much by way of solutions here, just thinking...