Reports from the Other Side

The struggles I’ve shared concerning the transition to working creatively from home and supporting our family’s shift to living simply are discussed in-depth in a book I’ve been reading called Radical Homemaking: Reclaiming Domesticity From A Consumer Culture. Shannon Hayes does an amazing job of unpacking all the issues I sit with. My internal squeamishness around being the “woman at home” trying to do most of the cooking and managing of food resources, my (and I admit) ego concerns about not having a role that’s paid and yet desperately wanting to move away from participating in the consumer circle of consumption.

Hayes uses two terms like opposite sides of a coin, “life-serving economy” vs. the “extractive economy”. “[The] extractive economy – where corporate wealth was regarded as the foundation of economic health, where mining our earth’s resources and exploiting our international neighbors was accepted as simply the cost of doing business – to a life-serving economy…where our resources are sustained, our waters are kept clean, our air pure, and families can lead meaningful and joyful lives.” These definitions were the words I have been searching for to describe the tension I felt when working to be, in the words of Grace Lee Boggs, “a more human, human being” to others and the world around me. Before transitioning out of my job, this tension made me feel perpetually guilty for being so exhausted after a day of work to be unable to actually practice these values I held so dear.

In writing about self-care practices for social change makers, I’ve been told by people in discussions that self-care is only for those who can afford it. Yet, who’s defined what self-care is? Corporations have carefully crafted a message that even self-care must be bought and this has been, like a Ping-Pong ball, refracted throughout our consumer culture. We are told that we need certain brands of lotion to feel comfortable in our skin, a gym membership to be fit and expensive vacations to have a break. None of these options are the only ways to take care of ourselves, but we are told it is so, over and over again. How do we move through the information we are sold to the truth?

It’s a question and path that I no longer feel quite so lonely on. Radical Homemakers patiently holds your hand as you wade into the confusion of wanting to be a “good feminist” and the desire to be “successful” through the messiness to the different choices some are making.

I’m definitely still processing what I’ve read so far. None of the interviewees were openly disabled, however there was a parent of a disabled child interviewed. Interestingly this parent used the term “Disability Culture” to describe the medical industrial complex and the system network that defines Disability as something to be fixed or "normalized". It made me cringe a bit, reminding how much work needs to still be done to connect parents and disabled folks themselves to how the Disability Community defines Disability Culture, as a cultural, political and social understanding of the experience of Disability.  My reaction reminds me as with anything where people are gathered to share honestly, it brings up all of our own stuff. However, it does connect for me on the foundation of longing we all have for a life and society that has an understanding of human dignity.

I’m looking forward to reading more and discussing this book with other people. As a community we sit in the confusion of what we are told will make us successful, contributing members of society and yet the reality we know in our guts is a sinking feeling about the price that path takes (on so many levels). It’s great to see folks starting to explore a different way and share their experiences. 

The question of being our full selves...

Part of my choice to live simply is to have the space and time to work on a book project. I originally thought I’d leave my job, do some contract work on the side and get writing! I’m slowly learning that the creative process is wholly different from anything I’ve done before and that it’s a balancing act; contract work with the art of writing.

It was a little embarrassing how much time I needed to rest and recover from my previous job. Part of my being so depleted was that I had accepted the demand to do the work of two employees in running a national project and another part of it was the experience of working as a younger Disabled Mestiza (Mexican, indigenous, white) in an organization of non-disabled mostly older white women. As I work on this book around self-care for people doing social change/activist work, I’ve found myself coming across the question again and again; how important is it exactly to be your full self in the work you do? This is beyond not feeling comfortable to share political beliefs or family dynamics in the workplace. This is literally the expectation of communicating in certain ways, or approaching conflict in a certain way. 

I’m not sure if I’d even have examples of this if I weren’t married to a white man from the Midwest. Through doing our own work over many years to understand our cultural differences and perspectives, we’ve come up with ways to understand each other better. For example, our cultural understanding of respect is very different. In Latino culture, generally if you respect someone then you tell that person what you think/feel, even if they happen to be your superior. If you do not respect someone, then you politely nod or whatever, you don’t share. Generally, in white culture, my partner has helped me understand that respect is equal to being polite. Not sharing your views or opinions is respectful, that you would share your opinions or thoughts (especially with superiors) only if you had no respect for them.

A second example is how to best say “thank-you”. Generally in Latino culture it’s not just saying “thank-you” that’s important, but also the sharing the story. So if someone gives you a bowl, it is important to not just say, “Thanks” but to also share how the bowl was used and maybe even how using the bowl made you feel. My partner has explained that generally in white Midwest culture, saying “thank-you” is sufficient, that sharing the story can often make people defensive, like, “Why wouldn’t they do _X__ for you” or “Why are you making such a big deal out of a bowl?”  

A third example is around communicating in groups. When my family and friends first met my partner, they kept asking me what was wrong, why was he so quiet? When I asked my partner, he said, “Cause I don’t know when to talk!” We generally have at least 3 conversations going at once (both listening to and contributing in), and we can be loud, talking over music, cooking, etc. With my partner I had to learn how to let him talk through a thought, for us to talk one at a time and on only one subject. I do this to varying degrees of success and he tries to own his privilege that we as a society work from his comfort zone.

Obviously, these differences can cross cultures, but my partner who has moved to the Southwest from the Midwest often thanks me for our work to understand cultural differences between us, as he is then able to do his job working with Latino folks in a more consistently respectful way.

These examples, along with others we’ve learned, have helped my partner and I be more equitable in the cultural ways we interact. However, I’m left with the question of what’s right for me with the activist work I am committed to. I spent many years learning the hard way different cultural ways to act, to be “professional” (often what’s comfortable for white/dominant culture) and then only acting myself with friends and family. How much do we risk to be who we are? This question is essential to self-care especially for people of color involved in social change work.

It is always a huge risk for me to act natural, from my comfort zone, especially because I have light skin and can look white. It confuses white people why I’m acting so “weird” (while also giving me privilege that others don’t have to get in the door). When I have tried to risk bringing my whole self into the work I do I’ve faced a high cost, which I feel like now I am only beginning to understand. Some of things I’ve observed are; sometimes I am straight up ignored, people on a committee will joke and laugh with me, but not take my suggestions seriously, and my asking questions seems to be a quick way to give any power away. I’m usually the “only one” of something, be it Latina (their recognized term, I use Mestiza) or Disabled, in a group. I can’t count the number of times, from committee meetings, to planning meetings, to staff meetings, that I have suggested something and people have ignored it and then later in the conversation, someone else suggests the same thing and people think they are brilliant. I’m often confused by concepts, like “wearing different hats” that people discuss as a way to manage doing things they actually disagree with and when I refuse to go against something based on principle (even when I offer to compromise) I’m treated like someone who then never needs support or grace.

There is more to this that I long to unlock. I feel like I’m grasping at something with the tips of my fingers. That if I could just dig deep enough, there might be a tool that one could use to negotiate with. As activists or people who work for social change, we all have examples of excluding pieces of who we are to come together to make “change” happen, but especially in activist communities where diversity is said to be appreciated, what ways have people or organizations found work for people to be their full selves?

If you have a good story you’d like to share about the practice of being your “full self” in the work you do for the upcoming book on activism and self-care, I’d love to hear from you!