With fierce love and hard-nosed hope
Someone asked me recently if I think conflict related work is rooted more in intuition (gut instinct, personal traits) or knowledge of process (training). My sidestep answer is that all relational work depends on knowing the principle of what we’re trying to accomplish (not just its practical steps, but the deeper meaning of those steps) and being able to act out those principles beyond the process. Beyond the act of knowing, transformative justice is a way of being when there is no plan and no container—it’s relational not just in our practice but in the relationships that are our own.
Having been thinking about this, I’d like to share the words of one of my beloved friends, Sheri Wander—for me, Sheri is someone who embodies the principles of transformative justice. In the 10 years I’ve known her, she has been a bright example of living her values and prefiguring the world she wants to see. Sheri is a skilled conflict de-escalator, facilitator, and non-violent direct action trainer—she knows process—but she also dreamt and made into reality our community’s daytime warming center network, runs a house of hospitality (Peace House Ypsilanti), intervenes in situations of harm or violence without hesitating, and shares her skills in real time, moment by moment, in her relationships.
It’s possible Sheri’s words (below) will be abstract for folks who don’t know her, so let me tell you what I receive when I read them—authentic acknowledgement of the struggle of living our values, admission of questioning and curiosity, openness about lack of clarity or binary distinctions, joyful recovery and care, humor in response to the universe. When I read this note, I feel Sheri’s presence. And I’m reminded of everything she’s taught me about compassion, vulnerability, humility, and living the principles of transformative justice. I wanted to share her wisdom and words with all of you, because they mean so much to me.
+ So you don’t think I’ve strayed too far from the intention of the newsletter, here are a few topics coming up:
Getting to know the Interests and Positions of those we’re in conflict with
Getting to know our own spark points in conflict
How to ask generative questions
Being responsive rather than reactive
Please continue to share how you’re doing in last week’s discussion, and thank you to Farnaz, Marisa, and Claire for sharing their own authentic acknowledgement of the obstacles, struggles, exhaution, and consequences of living their values. I appreciate you.
Peace House Ypsilanti is raising funds to sustain its future. For those who are able, any donations to their fundraiser would be greatly appreciated. You can donate and share this link.
And So it Goes… Random Musings on Justice and Charity
A message from Sheri Wander
We babysat a friend’s puppy on election day and the following day. Xena,our own puppy ― you know the one the vet describes as “undaunted” and “an emergency visit waiting to happen” — loves playing with her best buddy, Zeph.
Wednesday AM i was drying dishes when the 125 pounds (combined weight) wrestling pups came careening into me causing the soapy glass container in my slippery hand to fly up, up….down. Crash. Glass shards everywhere. I quickly put the puppies out in the front yard and started cleaning up the mess.
In her 6 months of life Xena has gotten used to life at a house of hospitality. The people stopping by the front porch to “shop” in our free front porch pantry 24-7, the folks who randomly swing by in the AM hoping for a cup of hot coffee or a listening ear, “strangers” (or as I prefer to think of them, “friends not yet met” ) who show up to ask about camping equipment or a shower. She doesn’t bark much. (Except to try to convince the cat to play - but that is a different email…-cultural differences and the unwillingness/ inability to see things from another’s reality or something like that. Plus, she jumps, so there is that fun.) Zeph, is not so used to all the busy that comes with the house and was soon barking loudly at something. Xena, of course, joining in with the high pitched excited puppy bark that makes me want to rip my eardrums out.
The first community agreement of Peace House is “be a good neighbor”. Loud barking at the crack of dawn is NOT being a good neighbor. But our pups couldn’t seem to grasp this. I was, of course, already super stressed thinking about the warming center’s lack of hosts for the upcoming season, the closing of the Red Roof Inn where several friends had been staying and the lack of adequate safe and covid cautious spaces to replace it, the election results and the avalanche of requests for de-escalation training, peace teams and accompaniment that came with election concerns etc. I did not want to add angry neighbors to the mix, but mostly had just reached the point where “everything is everything”.
So, this is how Wednesday morning, after the election, I found myself sitting on my kitchen floor surrounded by shards of broken glass sobbing about barking dogs, and racism, and the impacts of capitalism on those without capital, and children in cages, and broken glass, and generally about injustice everywhere.
And then, the phone rang. A young man was calling. Someone at the bus station had given him my number. He needed a sleeping bag and some other camping supplies. Through my sniffles and sobs we arranged a drop off on my way to the dog park later. And then the phone rang again, a guy needed a place to stay. Peace House is, unfortunately, full but I snuffled and “silent cried” my way through an explanation of HAWC and tips for navigating a system that is frustrating at best and often dehumanizing. By the time we’d gotten to brainstorming options for immediate shelter (Night warming center at Delonis? Tent? ) the tears had stopped.
Hanging up the phone I remained for a moment on the floor in the middle of the glass until I found myself laughing. I mean snorting, eyes watering, nose dripping, can’t breath, laughing. How could I not, if this doesn’t sum up life at Peace House what does? There is always “broken glass” in some form or another that needs cleaned up, there is always concern about neighbor relations, there is always someone on the phone or at the door in need. And, we are always doing what we can to take care of it all in the context of the injustices in our world.
So, I cleaned up the glass and continued the day, and I found my mind kept musing on what it means to do the work of caring for each other in the context of injustice. How do we assure we are doing more than puting on band-aids? And yet -- how do we continue to fight for justice without forgetting to pause and put on the band-aids when they are needed?
I wonder if mutual aid is the bridge between charity and justice? I think on the surface mutual aid can look like charity. We give sleeping bags and tents, food is delivered to people’s door steps, occasionally hotel rooms are paid for. But somehow it is different and I find myself wondering how to describe that difference.
Is it simply the motive behind the actions? Maybe it is the relationship between the “giver” and the “receiver”. Could it be knowing -- and gratefully accepting -- that at times I will be both? Learning to accept help with grace is hard and something I continue to struggle with. My mind keeps spinning to 2 favorite quotes:
“Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It's a relationship between equals. Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity.” ― Pema Chödrön, The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times
“If you have come here to help me you are wasting your time, but if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.” ―Lila Watson
To me mutual aid implies radical inclusion and solidarity. It means everybody has something to contribute. Everybody. And everybody has needs they need help in meeting. It might look the same but how different that is than the framework of charity where “rich people” give to “poor people” often with strings, often only if the poor “deserve it”, sometimes in a way to make ourselves feel better about the injustice of a reality that there is poverty and people go without food and shelter. Sometimes to tell ourselves we are better than those who “need our gift” (though we never will admit that thought. )
I believe mutual aid is justice seeking. It is political. When people get together to meet each other’s basic survival needs there develops a shared understanding that the systems we live under are not going to meet those needs. We can do it. Together. Right now. We build new social relations, new structures, new systems. Structures and Systems that -- if we build with the right tools and materials are more just and justice seeking.
Mutual aid is how we wage love. And waging love is how we survive.
With fierce love and hard-nosed hope,
Sheri
“Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It's a relationship between equals. Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity.” ― Pema Chödrön, The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times