Windhorse

Albert Einstein once famously remarked that "The world is a dangerous place to live; not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don't do anything about it."

Over the course of this school year I've found myself thinking about this. I've thought about what it means to be a bystander (a person who is present at an event or incident but does not directly take part) and what it means to be an upstander (someone who recognizes when something is wrong and acts to make it right). I think of myself as the latter, but I also recognize that I have unconscious biases of my own. So what happens when the evil is a bias, but it's unconscious? What happens when it stems from a power structure I didn't ask for, but that I've benefitted from? What if I'm one of those who "don't do anything about it" because the it is inside of me?

As a heterosexual white male I understand that there are privileges afforded me by society that others have to work harder for. I like to think I do my best to be an upstander for equality in areas of gender, sex, sexual orientation, and race.

But when I plant myself in that camp, and when I look at the world through a lens that says "I'm an ally"...or "I'm with her"...or "I'm with them"...or whatever the thing I tell myself on a random Thursday might be, I am failing myself because I am not always growing. I am neglecting myself the opportunity to see my own blind spots and to identify my own unconscious biases. I am often standing with someone or something, instead of standing for it.

I want to stand for.

I am now beginning to realize I need to be self critical, to look at my own actions and engagements with the world around me through a lens of criticism and self-evolution.

I am not suggesting that I should be overly hard on myself. Instead, I've endeavored to listen to the messages the people around me are sending, and to consider how my interactions with others might be employing my own unconscious power in harmful ways or in the form of microagressions.

It's been a realization about intent versus impact.


Story 1:

Much of my own growth comes from the incredible colleagues and students with whom I surround myself. The other day a colleague and I were speaking and the conversation steered toward a political topic. My colleague made a polarized statement. It was clear that they assumed I was in agreement. As I cleared my throat to reply, the colleague stopped.

"Will, I'm so sorry. I just made an assumption about your political leanings. That was unfair. I wish I hadn't said that."

The comment took my breath away. Whether or not I agreed with this person mattered so much less than the fact that they took the risk to acknowledge--in the moment--that they had made an assumption. They owned that moment and I left the conversation inspired and empowered to do the same. To look at every conversation as an opportunity to put my own assumptions, biases, and unconscious utilizations of power in check.

Story 2:

The very next day I congratulated a colleague who had received public recognition for an award. The colleague identifies as female and as I walked by her, I said, "Hey, congratulations that's so great. I'm really happy you received that recognition." She was seated and as I passed, I touched her shoulder.

Immediately, I thought, "why on earth did I do that? What if the roles were reversed and she had touched my shoulder? What message did I just send? I wish I hadn't done that."

I sat through the next meeting and caught up to the colleague afterwards. "Hey, I'm going to err on the side of being awkward, but I'm trying to keep my own actions in check. When I congratulated you, I touched your shoulder and I don't know why I did that. It wasn't my place and if you were at all uncomfortable, I'm sorry."

"Wow, that's not awkward at all. And I didn't think anything of it. But THANK YOU for saying that...I'm so glad you said something."

Story 3:

My students have too many tests. They just do. I hate that tests are the simplest way to measure a student's understanding and growth, but it's just the way things are. I try to deemphasize them, make the review process fun, and to work in as many experiential and kinesthetic projects as I can...but they still have too many tests.

So recently I decided to dwell in that place of keeping my power as their teacher in check. It was uncomfortable, but I felt it was necessary. I told them, "So, I've been thinking about all of you and how hard you work. I think you have too many tests. I know I told you we would have periodic vocabulary tests and quizzes throughout the year, but I've changed my mind. We're not going to. I've rethought how vocabulary will work. What I really care about is that you learn new words and that you employ them in the ways you write and speak. I think there's a better way, so stay tuned."

Now, of course, this was different than the interactions with my colleagues, but I don't think I would have approached my students in this way had I not experienced what it was like to get in touch with owning my own blindspots. I was inspired by one colleague and, I'd imagine, I took that energy and transitioned it into inspiring another colleague.

I am in a powerful position with my students. I am their teacher and I can ask them to do things and they desperately want to achieve and they seek my affirmation and praise. But I need to keep that in check. I need to put myself in their shoes. Sure it's more work to toss out those vocab tests I was planning on using and find new and innovative ways to teach vocabulary, but it's worth it.

I always like to think I listen to my students, but it's easy to fall into the trap of, "Well, we need to assess this skill, or this content, so we're going to do it this way..." but my students won't always question me on it because I'm in power. I have to listen to the energy, their mood, the tone of their voices, and think about what messages I'm sending about their worth, their identities, their lives, their time...and how hard I'm willing to work for them (not just how hard they'll work for me).

And it all starts with listening. It starts with conversation...and with being aware of my own roles and patterns in those conversations.

In The Art of Good Conversation, Sakyong Miphram writes about the warrior tradition of Shambhala in which conversation is linked to the concept of windhorse. "Wind," he writes, "is the notion of movement, energy, and expanse. Horse is the notion of riding that energy" (13).

I love this concept. I endeavor to listen to others in my conversations. To seek their energy and movement of ideas. But I also want to listen to my own role in the conversation and how my unconscious areas of power and bias might be impacting others...and then I want to ride that energy into the rest of my life.