"On Healing" November 2005

Posted on Mon, Nov. 28, 2005
Instead of fires, illumination
By Dan Gottlieb

The riots started on Oct. 27 with the accidental deaths of two boys fleeing police in a Paris suburb. Small gangs of youth began to set cars on fire in impoverished housing projects. The riots quickly spread to 300 cities and towns across France. And within 10 days France had seen millions of dollars of damage, tens of thousands of cars burned, and nightly fights with police marking the country's worst unrest since student riots in 1968.

Of course, "experts" quickly weighed in on the causes. Some said this happened because of the growing Muslim population that France failed to integrate. Others said it was an ethnic and cultural problem since many rioters were from Algeria, Morocco, Tunisia and Turkey. Others said the riots occurred because of poverty. Among non-European immigrants, the unemployment rate in France is nearly 40 percent.

We do know this; these are young people from different ethnic groups who find themselves in a land in which they are often rejected and impoverished.

We also know about that in this country. We have too many examples where years of discrimination and marginalization gave way to anger and violence that erupted unpredictably. And the rage we see invites the necessary return to "order," so the rage goes back underground. Curfews are initiated, police presence grows, and a semblance of order gets restored. But what happens to the rage? It waits.

French social psychologist Charles Rozman recently wrote in Le Monde that the problem is not about poverty, it's about powerlessness. Both sides in the conflict are powerless primarily because they lack genuine knowledge of each other.

Social psychologists have long known that when people feel anxious and powerless, they tend to hunker down with people who think as they do. And they learn nothing new about the people they are in conflict with.

Rozman suggests in his article that intolerance is about ignorance. And ignorance gets entrenched when we surround ourselves with like-minded people who agree with us.

I recently made a new friend. He is 12 years old and I met him the other day in a social situation. He clearly looked and acted differently from other people. Later, when we had a chance to meet, he told me he had Asperger's syndrome. When I asked him what it was like to live inside his skin, he went on for about 10 minutes in one of the most touching monologues I've heard. He talked about how his mind didn't work so well and how sometimes it was difficult and sad, and sometimes it was very interesting. I told him how my body didn't work so well, just like his mind. And I felt kind of the same way he did. When we looked at each other, it felt as if there were genuine understanding and care.

When I reflected later on my new friend, I thought about the conflict in France.

Seems to me that when people in my office are in conflict, things begin to turn around once they ask the question: "What's it like to be you?" I wondered what would happen if a policeman could sit down with one of these young people and say: "What's it like to live your life?" And then listen for a while about the loneliness of poverty and the fear of hopelessness. Then maybe the policeman could talk to this young person about what his life is like and what his hopes and fears are for his future. And I wondered what would happen if that small dialogue could get repeated thousands of times around France.

It probably wouldn't solve any problems, but it would begin to diminish the ignorance that keeps people locked inside their own biases. And do I think I'm being naive? Of course. But I figure that since we don't seem to have any answers, we might as well just sit back and ask some interesting questions.

Posted on Mon, Nov. 14, 2005
How complicated abortion can be
By Dan Gottlieb

In the war of sound bites over abortion, each side stakes out its turf and avoids the more complicated human issues.

Last year I worked with a couple I'll call the Joneses. After 20 years of marriage, they were considering separation. Their oldest was a senior in high school.

Marriages often run into trouble when they are 15 to 20 years old. Sometimes it's the empty-nest phenomenon or a midlife crisis. But usually what happens is that feelings that have been buried for many years can no longer stay there, and old conflicts reemerge.

As I took their history, they told me how they met 25 years earlier. She was working to save money for college, and he was already in his second year studying to be a teacher.

They fell in love and planned to marry when he graduated and began working. At that point, she would go to college and pursue her dream of becoming a doctor. They were very much in love and their future looked bright - until she became pregnant.

As they told the story, both became tearful. They described themselves as religious and churchgoing, then as now. They also called themselves "pro-life." So the discussion of what to do about the pregnancy was agony. They knew they were not ready financially or emotionally to raise a child. And doing so would compromise not only their quality of life, but that of their future children.

They thought about adoption, but feared that if she carried to term, they would be rejected by their families. They knew that whatever choice they made, they would feel guilt and grief for the rest of their lives.

Such is the case with most unwanted pregnancies. Life is forever altered the moment conception occurs.

After many sleepless nights, the Joneses finally decided to have an abortion. As they told this story, they both wept openly as if this had happened yesterday.

And as Mr. Jones said: "this decision caused me the greatest pain in my life, but it was the right decision. Our children have a nice life they never would have had if we had that baby." Through her tears, Mrs. Jones nodded in agreement. They both felt they ended a life or at least a potential one.

All loss must be mourned or the grief stays entombed inside searching for a voice. The death of a parent, spouse or child typically gets mourned with the support of the community.

But with abortion, everything is different.

In this highly politicized environment, there is really nowhere to go. Couples like the Joneses keep an abortion secret from their families and the larger community.

The Joneses resumed their lives and didn't talk about it much because, as he says: "We didn't want to upset one another." She went to college, he went to work, and then the children came.

But no matter how many distractions, the pain still dogged them. Mrs. Jones said that at every birthday party and every Christmas, she thought about that decision made so many years ago. As the years went on, Mrs. Jones became more involved in the children's lives while Mr. Jones seemed to work harder and harder. And now that their oldest child is about to leave home, it feels as if the pain from the past is coming closer.

Over the months we worked together, many tears were shed and many walls came down as their relationship became closer and more open.

The pain didn't go away. But to help turn their ordeal into something constructive, they became involved in programs that would benefit children. Mr. Jones is working to get guns off the street while Mrs. Jones is working with a program to help feed hungry children.

Sound bites never tell the story from the inside out. The Joneses did.

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