Transcriber: Annet Johnson Reviewer: Anna Sobota
I’d like to begin this talk with a simple word game exercise.
Take a look at the six words in front of you
and try to complete as many of them as you can.
Pain, plan, porn,
touch, tough..
Do you think your word choices say anything about you?
For most people the answer is, “I don’t know, maybe.”
(Laughter)
Now, let’s take a look at the word choices made by someone I know.
What could we say about this person?
Are they going through challenges?
Are they deeply unhappy or perhaps even violent?
If these six words were the only things you knew about them,
how would you feel about being in the same room with them?
Well, let's meet this person.
It’s me.
And I can tell you that these word choices do not describe how I am or how I feel.
I did this exercise after reading a book on Apartheid
with some pretty heavy themes in it, and I work with conflict for a living.
Really, these are the only connections.
This experiment comes from powerful research
by Princeton social psychologist, Emily Pronin,
who named this phenomenon introspective illusion.
The idea behind introspective illusion is, when it comes to our own word choices,
we are reluctant to draw any broad conclusion.
However, we are rather quick to do so when it comes to word choices of others
whom we’re willing to see in a much more singular or reductionist light.
In other words,
we know a lot less about other people than we think we do,
and this is relevant for something else.
If we know a lot less about other people than we think we do,
then the idea that we can ever, ever be in another person’s shoes
is an illusion.
It is time that we move away from empathy and towards radical compassion,
which I define as intimate and infinite connection with another person’s humanity,
combined with a knowledge that we can never truly know
or experience what they lived through.
I will suggest to you
that radical compassion consists of four key elements:
autonomy, inclusion, exploration, and expansion.
In my work as a mediator,
I see radical compassion as the ultimate goal.
So I hope for the parties and conflicts that I work with
to experience some form of all four:
autonomy, inclusion, exploration, and expansion.
Radical compassion begins with autonomy.
Because seeing the humanity in others means we see them just as complex
and nuanced as we are.
Everyone has the right
to determine whether or how they will engage with others.
So when dealing with people that profoundly challenge us,
if our autonomy or theirs does not include the possibility
of seeing each other as human,
but rather than a caricature of one,
and does not include the possibility of taking responsibility
and accountability for our own actions,
then the most compassionate thing to do is to disengage or not to engage at all,
while still remembering and knowing the clear distinction
between all that is them and all that is theirs.
This brings me to the next critical component of radical compassion:
inclusion.
In my experience, all violence begins with the idea,
the idea that someone is the other.
So inclusion is lifelong practice of refusing to other anyone
and seeing all as integral parts of the same hull.
If I truly see you as a part of me,
does anyone need to tell me not to harm you?
Because, by harming you, I would be harming myself.
Now, this idea gets a lot more challenging
when applied to people who trigger us in the most profound ways.
Like those who shoot grandmothers they’ve never met in a supermarket
simply because of the color of their skin,
or those who take an AR 15
to mow down elementary school children.
But what if we still refuse to see those people as them versus us
and still saw them as part of us.
What if, to paraphrase writer and activist Valerie Kaur, we saw them as part of us?
We do not yet know.
Yes, even when it comes to ourselves,
we know a lot less than we think we do.
If even school shooters are not separate from us,
we must do something about our own violence that is reflected in them.
Now, next dimension of radical compassion is exploration.
Exploration is actually doing something quite challenging.
It’s something that I am asking you to do throughout this talk,
and that is remembering how little we know about everything,
because we’re looking at the world
through a peephole of our own conditioning.
Exploration also means moving beyond binary ideas,
like pro-life and pro-choice, gun rights and gun control,
blue and red, and white and black,
and exploring nuance, ambiguity, and uncertainty
hidden behind these seemingly binary slogans.
When we do engage with ambiguity, nuance, and uncertainty,
our awareness will naturally expand, creating space for profound understanding,
meaningful connection, and deep dialogue.
And then when our awareness expands, we can respond to conflict
in ways which are both transformative and restorative.
Speaking of expansion,
I see expansion as the final element of radical compassion.
As this slide illustrates,
and especially in interactions which challenge us,
expansion is about moving from positions to, and through, interests,
emotions, values, and finally and most importantly, needs.
In my experience,
most conflicts revolve around seven needs that you see on your screen.
The need for security, autonomy, authenticity, connection, peace,
meaning, and expansion.
If we can transform a conflict interaction from the exploration of positions,
or rather from the shouting of positions and the belittling of those who hold them,
to the exploration of needs,
the conflict is transformed in the most profound ways.
I had an opportunity recently to apply these ideas
in a tense, challenging, and polarizing situation.
It was a Friday evening on a campus of a large university,
and a group of students, who identified with a Palestinian cause,
was walking through campus
when they saw an Israeli flag outside the campus’ student center.
The flag was there to commemorate an Israeli-themed Shabbat dinner
which was taking [place] inside the student center.
One of the students approached the flag, removed it, and placed it in the garbage.
As you can imagine,
this incident created quite a stir on campus and on social media,
invoking highly charged identities through words like safety, anti-semitism,
racism, freedom of expression, and oppression.
The university brought me in to help deal with this situation.
I began by reaching out to the students
and inviting them to have individual conversations with me.
Their autonomy was important so they could say no,
and if they did, I would honor that.
Most of those said yes.
In these individual sessions, I did a lot of listening,
creating a safe space for the students,
to move beyond the boundaries of their identities,
and to engage with the ambiguity, nuance, and uncertainty of their feelings
and of their expectations.
What was truly important for them?
Was it punishment, retribution?
A sense of harmony in the community?
An opportunity to have a conversation with someone
they profoundly disagreed with?
Some combination of all of these?
Well, after meeting with all the students involved in this situation,
it was time to schedule a restorative peace circle.
We began the circle by doing some mindful breathing together.
I then led a brief ceremony by lighting an oil lamp
to honor anyone who’s ever felt excluded, ostracized, or unsafe
in this community and beyond.
Then we engaged with some storytelling.
You see, prior to this gathering, I asked each of the students
to bring with them their version of the campus’ mascot,
which was a recognized symbol of this community.
So then, each of the students talked about what the mascot symbolized to them.
They talked about stories of community, inclusion, and friendships.
Through the use of mindfulness, ceremony, and storytelling,
the students actually went out of their minds,
and this was important.
This was important because this was what allowed us
to expand their individual identities to a more shared identity
as members of the same community.
It was now time to talk about the incident that brought all of us together.
In this particular circle,
it made sense to start with the student who took the flag down.
They began by offering an apology
and talking about how they did not mean this act as an act of prejudice
or aggression.
The students then went around and shared their stories
of what the flag symbolized to them.
One student talked about
how the Israeli flag was the first thing they received
when their family came to Israel from the former Soviet Union.
In another story, a student talked about
how they grew up as Palestinian refugees in Jordan
and then as immigrants in America,
and that the Israeli flag was a constant reminder to them
that they did not have a home.
As we went around and around and eventually everyone felt heard,
it was time for us to explore where to go from here.
And that was the question that I posed, so where do we go from here?
The students came up with some ideas
that included getting to know each other better on a social level,
creating better connections between campuses,
Jewish, Muslim, and Arab student leaders,
doing a social event that would honor all the people,
all the different people and all the different groups
that lived in Israel and Palestine.
And most importantly, the students agreed to keep talking with each other.
Now, in the grand scheme of things,
nothing really happened that was earth-shattering.
A group of students who disagreed with each other sat down
and had a conversation.
But, actually, something powerful and profound did occur.
Because, in this conversation,
the students went beyond the boundaries of their identities
and experienced each other’s humanities.
They also connected with each other’s needs,
which, by the way, were not dissimilar.
Most importantly, the students came up with a vision for moving forward together.
As modest as that vision was, I think it was something that was truly important.
Because as people, the greatest challenge that we face is not in our divisions,
it is in the lack of shared vision for moving forward.
In my experience, developing that shared vision
takes autonomy, inclusion, exploration, and expansion.
In other words, it takes radical compassion.
And that’s why I see radical compassion as the goal and purpose of my work
as a mediator and peace builder.
And radical compassion begins with an understanding,
we know a lot less than we think we do.
Thank you.
(Applause)