I admit that privilege is a thing: as a white, cisgendered, middle class, educated male, I have some privileges that others don't have to deal with. Even as I tentatively plan to go back overseas in a few years, I am keenly aware of the privilege I will carry with me, and chances are I will use that privilege to my advantage. My white, male forbears have set up the world for my success, and have even provided excuses for me if fail. Lucky me. One of the most discouraging things about having privilege is the fact that there's no way to escape it. Once I've admitted to it, it becomes an immediate, abstract, indefinable burden. My privilege becomes a weak structural support for any argument, a fallacy that I can't escape. If ever somebody doesn't like what I have to say or think, they can make an appeal to privilege and I will likely shut up, not wishing to create a power imbalance. For a sensitive person, the "You think that way because of your privilege" is an effective silencer; I don't want to contribute to the social structures that put me in this position, but my inherent privilege makes it impossible to escape the attack. Silence is the only option. I'm already feeling stuck in the cycle as I'm trying to discuss it and want to abort this post right now, but I'd like to try to explain the problem I find myself in right now: I admit that I have privilege, but I'm getting weary of trying to find a way around it. There's a cycle of powerlessness associated with all "You're privileged" attacks. "Privilege" and "enabling," both legitimate, real psychological and social phenomena, can also be used to silence and disempower. I don't know how to articulate this without digging myself into a hole, but perhaps I can do it with a bulleted dialogue:
But I also believe that we need to hear individual voices, that understanding one another comes first. Accusations of "privilege" should not be used as an argumentative bludgeoning stick. Any accusation that decreases empathy and sympathy will breed resentment because they take away agency, take away a voice. Privilege is a real thing, but using is as a tool to derail arguments, to silence ideas, or to decrease the power of empathy, seems like a misuse of the term. Of course, I'm probably using my own privilege to redefine the term in a way that benefits me. And the cycle continues.
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Yesterday my daughters and I followed along with this episode of Hidden Brain as we tried to make some achievable goals. I don't have my daughters' consent to share their goals, but I can share mine: I aimed to, in the next four weeks, continue running 3-4 times a week and to try not to break down when we're having family trouble at home.
Here's the gist of the podcast from the NPR page:
Through the years, Oettingen has studied dieters, students, job seekers, love seekers, people recovering from physical injuries, and other strivers. She's found they all have something in common: Those who have stronger, more positive fantasies about reaching their goals are actually less likely to achieve them. They lose fewer pounds, earn worse grades, receive fewer job offers, stay lonely longer, recover from injury more slowly.
There's a chance that my goals might be too achievable, but I'm not so sure. I battle through a lot of emotional weight most of the time and am good at giving up on well-being practices. Not crying and continuing with running are good for me.
Oh, and on the topic of running, I broke all my records on Tuesday:
I started by wanting to run just 20 minutes without stopping, but then I broke 27. Then 37. Then 45. Now I've broken an hour. However, I'm only increasing my goal by one minute a run. So although I ran an hour and seven minutes on Tuesday, my actual goal is now at 39 minutes.
Achievable goals, baby. Yay!
My partner recently texted me the following article:
It's a good sentence-a-paragraph article that highlights a bunch of the contradictions our society faces as it tries to come to terms with mental illness and personality disorders.
Here's thepassage that stands out most to me: Stigma accompanies all mental illness to some extent, but in recent years, certain mental illnesses have been getting better press than others. Depression, for example, has been frequently covered in the mainstream media, from webcomics to feature-length documentaries.
It makes sense. We have these blatant contradictions that we cater to and idolize: we hate narcissists, but raise them up to lead our companies and parties; we hate psychopaths, but read books about them and follow them in art.
It's a sort of "othering" where we fetishize unconventional behaviour. It's a sort of At least I'm better than that, or I wish I could do that, but I'm so glad I can't. It's some messed up stuff. The thing about these sort of mental health definitions is that they are culturally dependent. I don't think narcissists in the West are necessarily narcissists in the East, for example. Nonetheless, some cultural compassion is needed for those we've pushed into cultural boxes. I, as a teacher, know full well that plenty of these ADHD-diagnosed kids are victims of the school system, its culture, its rituals. Their diagnosis would be unrecognizable outside the regimented strictures of the classroom. They might just be seen as creatives, shamans, warriors, or some other sort of specialization. With the ADHD label, driven by the classroom, they end up miscreants. I've been listening through Mark Goulston's Talking to Crazy and it's been an eye-opening experience for me. The book articulately makes the case for my own communication problems, which for years I had generally set aside. I already knew that I'd backed myself into corners, that I'd let "my own crazy" get the better of me, but I had no idea as to how I did it. I was clueless. But now I can see how my own desires to please people or counter everything with logic were in themselves irrational. I think I'm starting to be able to determine the differences between logic and rationality, between empathy and sympathy, thanks to this latest round of reading.. And it's giving me a new appreciation for articles like the one above, which try to help people sympathize with people who suffer from mental illnesses, as we define them in our culture. I don't know if I have any sort of diagnosable mental illness beyond depression, but I do know that my own mindset has exacerbated the people around me. I may not have a mental illness, but it doesn't mean my mental health has been up to snuff. One step forward. And another. One step at a time. I've been enjoying taking bite-sized intellectual chunks out of The Book of Life for the last few weeks. Here's how they describe themselves: WHAT IS THE BOOK OF LIFE[?] That's pretty stankin' ambitious. I like it. It's an easy "food for thought" source for when I'm hungry for thought-food. And although I may not agree at times, I enjoy it. Most appealing to me at this moment is their advocacy for what they call "The Melancholy Position" in relationships. On their entry for "Loyalty and Adultery," they write, There is in a sense only one answer of sorts, and it can be called the Melancholy Position because it confronts the sad truth that in certain key areas of human existence, there simply are no good solutions. If we embraced the Melancholy Position from the start, we would need new, sadder, vows to exchange with our partners in order to stand a sincere chance of mutual fidelity over a lifetime. Certainly something far more cautionary and downbeat than the usual platitudes would be in order – for example: ‘I promise to be disappointed by you and you alone. I promise to make you the sole repository of my regrets, rather than to distribute them widely through multiple affairs and a life of sexual Don Juanism. I have surveyed the different options for unhappiness, and it is you I have chosen to commit myself to.’ These are the sorts of generously pessimistic and kindly unromantic promises that couples should make to each other at the altar. This is something I can connect with a little. I understand that "there are no good solutions." I have meandered through a few of these this year where I've encountered, enabled, and instigated problems that cause heartbreak all round, where no solution brings anybody out on top. And week after week I find myself more and more resolved to Melancholy because none of the other solutions look particularly appealing. If there was a good solution for my problems, I'd embrace it. But there isn't one.
As I take responsibility for the social and mental places I've put myself, my desire to make music and art has plummeted. Perhaps if I can embrace the Melancholy Position, I can rebuild my relationships with my partner, my friends, my self. I know that some artists have been able to embrace the heartbreak and change in their lives to create something beautiful. I'm not a romantic. I don't revel in my sadness and heartbreak. Even when I stumble into sulkiness, I don't do it as a personal expression in order to show people how sad I am. But as a non-romantic, perhaps I can jive with my musical side again if I can just embrace the Melancholy and build from there, to build from a place where I know that things won't change that much, where a singular step forward is always a comparatively important one. But I can't fully embrace the Melancholy Position yet. I still have a bunch of self-help and psychology to get through and I'd like to get through all of this in as methodically as I possibly can.
Clearly, I've been aching to read some texts that aren't leadership/academic-based. As my Master's degree has tailed away, I've started pounding through multiple texts that show my wide range of interests. Below are a few of the videos I've made to commemorate my completion of each book, starting in late March with an audiobook.
Aldous Huxley's Brave New World.
I hadn't read Brave New World yet, but didn't think I'd have the patience to read it word for word. I listened through it twice while I was over in Victoria. I think I have enough of a handle on it now that I look forward to reading it on paper one day.
Jacquie McNish & Sean Silcoff's Losing the Signal: The Spectacular Rise and Fall of Blackberry
It's hard to comprehend how quickly I pounded through this book, but it was really interesting because I watched most of this happen through the news. My brother also worked for QNX for a few years, so I had a slightly personal connection.
Love, Dishonor, Marry, Die, Cherish, Perish: A Novel by David Rakoff
I'd wanted to read this since I first heard about it, but I wanted to make sure I could give it all my attention. David Rakoff is one of my favourite writers and literary performers.
Pia Mellody's The Intimacy Factor.
This book was recommended from the same workshop that inspired my "Aiming for Resilience" post a few months ago. I ordered it and am glad to own it. Although I don't really care for some of the "spiritual" truisms it espouses, I appreciate her overall attitude towards relationships and boundaries. I think I know the book well enough to reopen it to the right places when I'm having trouble assessing my personal boundaries myself.
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April 2023
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