Resisting Violence of the Spirit
From the Gap Between When to Stand Up and When to Come Alongside
“The thing that we are challenged to do is to keep this movement moving.
There is power in unity and there is power in numbers.”
- Dr. Martin Luther King
Black History Month is winding down and this year, in the wake of the BLM protests around the globe, it has held a special weight. February serves a dual purpose: 1) to shatter stereotypes by recognizing and celebrating the accomplishments of black people 2) to bring more justice into the world. Of course, the iconographic figure of this month is Dr. Martin Luther King and there are so many black people who have accomplished so much throughout our nation’s history that it almost feels cliche to write about him. But, when circumstances change, the familiar often looks new. King’s work has never lost relevance and this year, it feels especially potent.
In January, my job gave me cause to revisit some of King’s writings and as someone who seeks to be an ally to black people in the fight for social justice, I have been mulling over these ideas all month and using them to reframe some of the struggles I have encountered in the quest to understand the particular gap between when to stand up against injustice and when to come alongside people to help guide them toward a better understanding of their part in it. In the spirit of Black History Month and in an effort to bring more justice into the world, I want to share a few selections and reflections with you.
From Dr. Martin Luther King’s fundamental philosophy of non-violence:
Principle #3: Non-violence seeks to defeat injustice, not people.
The nonviolent resister seeks to defeat evil not people.
Principle # 5: Nonviolence chooses love instead of hate.
Nonviolence resists violence of the spirit as well as the body.
Principle #6: Nonviolence believes that the universe is on the side of justice.
The nonviolent resister has deep faith that justice will eventually win.
In some of my earlier experiences with social justice work, I attended several S.E.E.D workshops. Geared specifically toward educators, the tenets of this organization couch the work in personal reflection and encourage people to come alongside one another as they identify their place in systems of privilege and oppression. The approach is all about creating safe spaces for conversations that may be difficult and uncomfortable, but not judgemental or shaming. This is what I was taught. This is what I believe is the most productive way. Among the intended outcomes of this method are: to help raise awareness, foster personal accountability, bring about equity, and celebrate diversity.
These concepts, along with King’s principles, dovetail so precisely with Donna Hick’s 10 essential elements of dignity outlined in her book, Dignity: It’s Essential Role in Conflict Resolution. In it, she explores the concept that dignity is essentially and universally desired and that failing to preserve it leads to the escalation of conflict. I have come to equate Dr. King’s concept of “non-violence of the spirit,” with the preservation of dignity.
One of the first lessons you learn when you are trying to understand how to become an ally is that in conversations surrounding racism, there is more nuance than you could possibly ever imagine. Among the broad array of lessons awaiting us as we work to fill a supportive role are: white-fragility, white saviorism, white guilt, tone-policing, self-education without putting the onus on black people, cancel culture, and the criticism of cancel culture .
Some of these lessons are painful and evoke an ugly, knee-jerk desire to walk away and go do something easy. In these moments, it is helpful for white people to return to the notion that we are new to all of this. Black people have been fighting this fight for over 400 years in America and the amount of discomfort that comes our way is infinitesimally small by comparison.
One thought I return to is the simple knowledge that being an ally is not supposed to be easy or lucrative or glamorous. If it is, you are doing it wrong. Becoming an ally is a commitment to enter into a space where we are called to hold the suffering of others, acknowledge our role in it, and humbly enter a partnership to craft a better future for the children who will inherit this world.
Alliship requires a thick skin. There will be criticism from people who are, “on your side,” and from people who are decidedly not. Much of this criticism will not be constructive and it will likely be proportional to the effort you are expending. A lot of this criticism will come from white people who are defending their position. They’ll talk about how well things are going with their, “best black friend,” and point out that nothing needs to change. They may even call you an agitator or something like it. It’s important to remember that this what people said in the 60s too.
It is helpful to fall back on this article, in which Anoosh Jorjorian admonishes white people for pushing other white people away by appropriating the anger of POCs. I really appreciate this article because it is helpful when you are frustrated with people who are exhibiting white-fragility, but it also calls you out if the frustration you are feeling is because of your own white-fragility.
Among the critics are other whites who are also pursuing alliship and are quick to point out how you are doing it wrong. Often, these folks will be on social media, posting lots of memes, generating lots of vitriol, getting lots of attention and feeling really righteous. It is usually the case that they will have removed anyone from their life who disagrees with them. They love standing up, but they think coming alongside is for haters. They also love to point out what you are doing wrong and they may use words you haven’t heard before (words they seem very proud to know). I find that when we run into these folks, it is more helpful to use the encounter as an opportunity to research and learn than to attack or defend. Unity is the goal. Listening and learning are paramount.
Another challenging part of being an ally in the fight for social justice are the times when we are forced to discern when it is right to stand up for one person or come alongside another. I say this as someone who was raised in the rural south, surrounded by racism, as someone who has a deep connection to many people who have never examined their implicit bias and may not know what it is. People who vote for racist policies. People who are ignorant of their privilege. But, I am also someone who has been afforded the privilege of gathering experiences that have awakened me to some of my own implicit bias and privilege and I therefore have a sense of responsibility to honor this blessing by using it to share the work with others. I also have a keen awareness that I may be the only conduit for this information to many of the people I know. Most factory workers in Mississippi will never encounter anti-racist training. It is up to all of us to do this work.
Sometimes, we find ourselves caught between a rock and a hard place. People will get angry at us for not appearing angry enough. We will be asked to, “cancel,” others when we know that doing so would shut down an opportunity to help that person. At times, we may be asked to draw a line in the sand and we know that we will lose something on either side of it.
So, how do we know what to choose? We don’t always, but one piece of wisdom has come to serve as a strong guidepost for me. Once, I found myself expending a particularly large amount of bandwidth on a particular unkind bit of criticism. I knew it was a waste of my energy, but I was struggling to get past it so I sought some advice from a wise man who has been doing this work for a very long time.
I asked, “I’ve noticed that you tend to stay out of the weeds. You don’t seem to waste a lot of energy on the small stuff. How do you know what merits your focus?” And he answered, “This is going to sound like an over-simplification, but the truth is, I just ask myself, “‘What is going to help me reach my goal?”’
I began to apply that logic to my interactions from then on. It became especially helpful as I navigated some situations on social media. Once, I was accused of, “performative social justice,” because I wouldn’t unfriend a woman simply because she disagreed with the BLM movement. So I started thinking through it, “What will help me reach my goal? I may offer the only exposure this woman gets to opposing views. What good can it do if I unfriend everyone I disagree with? I would just wind up in an echo chamber with a bunch of people who applaud my every post. Talk about performative!”
I decided instead to apply Donna Hick’s ideas - to listen, try to understand, assume integrity. The uncancelled woman and I have had many conversations since that have afforded opportunities for both of us to challenge our beliefs and publicly discuss things in ways that offer insight and understanding to the broader community… which ultimately is my goal.
“Freedom isn’t free,” King says. As we calculate the weight of cost, we have to ask ourselves what is a step toward freedom and what is a step toward further division. We have to keep the goal in mind. I have also had to make the decision to remove people from my feed, my life, and my children’s sphere of influence. It has come at the cost of familial connection and it has been painful. Sometimes I extricated myself quietly. Other times I backed away to accusations of being a hateful racist myself for, “not leaving well enough alone.”
It will become apparent who is and who is not interested in growth or understanding. Some folks will just play the role of antagonizer. They will waste your time and your effort and leave you no closer to your goal than when you began. And they will sometimes say things that are hurtful to others. They will sometimes perpetuate ideas that are dangerous to young ears. When this becomes clear, you will have to stand up. In this time, it is important to remember to preserve our own dignity, to not debase ourselves by engaging in hate. Hate begets hate. It does not move us closer to freedom. I believe Dr. King when he told us that we can work to defeat the evil while not defeating the people. One sure way to know that it is time to back away is when we see the emergence of our own desire to defeat the people. To violate their dignity. To make them feel ashamed or look stupid. I have made this mistake too. It does not help us reach the goal. While this may happen to the glamorous applause of others in this heightened emotional climate, when we are in touch with our own spirits, it does not feel good.
So, here we are, departing from this special season of celebration with the goal of, “bringing more justice into the world.” As we move forward, let us turn our attention to Dr. King’s idea of non-violence toward the spirit. When we honor the dignity of another, we can not play, “tone-police.” It is not our job to tell POCs how to act or feel. Preservation of dignity does not deny others the right to express their feelings. We hold space for authentic outrage and we hold space for sorrow so we can make way for joy. When we honor the dignity of another, we can not be saviors. This is not about us. The preservation of dignity lets us empower each other in the ability to act for ourselves. We advocate, but we do not step in to save. By being accountable, we take responsibility for our actions so that healing can take place. By seeking understanding, we choose not to polarize and we remain open to others, that we may unlodge obstacles to multiple paths to justice so that more may find the way. And by choosing love instead of hate, we raise the tide to lift all boats. And when all boats float… justice eventually wins.