I have not written about the American Crises/World Crises during this time of COVID-19 and Black Lives Matter. It isn't because I have been avoiding it, or don't have thoughts. It is because I am struggling to be nice about it. When reading certain articles, it feels like what I actually believe has nothing to do with the matter, as long as I say the right things and use the right words. It is not good enough to use other words that may or may not mean the same thing but add nuance to the situation. It is not sufficient to keep silent. No, it feels like I must use the exact words that everyone else is using. I must announce that I am listening to my black brothers and sisters.
What is hardest for me to hear is when those who have left an organized church because of the shame and rules and condemnation they felt there, use those same tactics on the those they have "left behind." There is no way to talk to them. No way to discuss or reach their hearts. And most heartbreaking to me, there is no humanity. I must live condemned by their bitterness and anger toward people who look like me, and talk like me, and believe some of the same things as me.
In my experience as an actor, I learned about the commonality of humankind. There is no character I can't play because we are all human (or representative of human attributes). I, as a human, can relate on some level to any human emotion, even if I haven't experienced the same life situations, simply because I am human. And I believe there is more that connects us than keeps us apart.
My favorite directing book, On Directing Actors, by Judith Weston, emphasizes allowing actors to be in the moment.
"Probably the most powerful and also the most readily available tool an actor has for staying in the moment is the other actor in the scene. Listening to the other person(s) in the scene gives an actor a simple task and a focus for his attention."Bryan Stevenson, author of Just Mercy, is not an actor, but he knows about listening. He said at a Global Leadership Summit, to effectively lead, one must become proximate to those we serve. In other words, we must get close to the problem. Once we are close to them, we listen in order to change our narratives of prejudice, not to fuel our per-conceived ideas. The only way we can do this is to stay hopeful, not just faithful. In the face of the deepest darkness, we must hold onto, and hold out, a hope to keep moving forward. That means we must be willing to be uncomfortable. Comfort isn't bad, but discomfort has to be a choice. If discomfort only comes by accident, then choose to learn from the discomfort.
"But we are not talking about ordinary listening. It is a term of art. It is not just listening for your cue, for your turn to talk, it is a special attention paid to the other person."
"It is a surrender, a tiny leap of faith. It exactly mean that the actor puts more attention on the other actor than on her own performance. And allows her lines to be informed by that attention, dictated by that attention...Now this is the key. Listening is not simply hearing the words the other actors says and responding to them -- it is allowing one's concentration to be on the response of the other actor, on him physically -- on the expression in his eyes, the little lines around his mouth, on the sound of his voice as well as the words he is saying, on his body, even on his smell."
As a side note, he also mentioned when we see how messed up a system is, it is easy to want to crush it and throw it away. "It is human to crush the broken, because we don't like seeing the brokenness in ourselves." But, he went on to say that it is important to understand our own brokenness because it leads to being able to understand and give grace.
But for all the emphasis on listening, the point is not silence. The point is to create a informed, gracious response. That response doesn't need to be a public demonstration. It doesn't need to be online. Even your left hand doesn't need to know the kindness your right hand is doing. (It can be, which is why I am writing about it here, but it doesn't have to be, and it definitely shouldn't be the only place we respond.) But online silence, and public silence, is not necessarily inaction.
And I am not sure, but I have this feeling that if we kept listening, stopped reacting, used our American common sense and grit instead of our American passion and rebellion, we - not our governments - but we, the people, could continue to write the American story of liberty and justice for all.
Good thoughts here. I've been trying to do the same. Listening is hard. It is an art and takes effort. And sometimes I get discouraged thinking I'm not making sense of what I'm hearing. Or I'm over reacting. Then I take a break and come back, hopefully a little humbler.
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