Dedicated to the People of Darfur: Writings on Fear, Risk, and Hope

Everyday Courage and the “How” of Our Work

199 LYNN PHILLIPS Never one to shy away from the big, existential questions, I spend a lot of time thinking about the contributions I am compelled to make with this one, unique life. I find myself alternately invigorated and daunted by the enormity of responsibility for the footprints—from carbon to moral—I will leave in my time on the planet. I like to think I have contributed to social change efforts through activist research; through advocacy for victim/survivors and clinical work with perpetrators ; and through teaching, writing, and speaking about media, violence, culture , and a wide range of injustices. Increasingly, though, I find myself pondering not just the “what” of my work, but the “how” of it—my way of being and what I am modeling as I go about working for social change. In what ways am I a “teacher of bravery”? When it comes to fighting injustice, I tend to associate words like “bravery,” “risk,” and “courage” with dramatic acts of self-sacrifice. For me, these words conjure up immediate images of Tiananmen Square, Greensboro lunch counters and the Freedom Riders, Stonewall, or young carpet weavers daring to speak out about child labor. I think of radical acts motivated by outrage, of knowingly throwing oneself in harm’s way for the greater good, of speaking truth in the face of oppressive forces, or of selflessly daring to expose corruption, abuse, inequity, and greed. But when I move beneath the surface of these more obvious forms of risk and daring, my mind settles on a different, more subtle kind of courage—the kind of courage that the musician and peace educator, Sarah Pirtle, writes about in the introduction to her album, Everyday Bravery. Although these acts of bravery may never make the evening news, I have come to believe that they are, in their own quiet way, nonetheless radical. This is the type of everyday courage we are called upon to muster if we are not only to speak out about injustices perpetrated Everyday Courage and the “How” of Our Work As we live our lives with dignity and integrity, we affect the people around us whether or not we are aware of our influence. We are each teachers of bravery. —Sarah Pirtle






















CH044.qxd 7/15/09 8:11 AM Page 199 200 LYNN PHILLIPS by others, but also to make the changes we know in our hearts are necessary in our own lives if we are to live and work with integrity. Indeed, even more courageous than angrily fighting injustice is daring to do so in ways that keep compassion in our hearts and that embrace the complexities of human experience. Though I’m not likely to stand in front of a tank or move to a war zone, I am faced daily with the opportunity to take “little risks”—to decide whether I’ll exercise the courage to act in ways that promote the peace and justice I’m working for, or whether fear, self-righteousness, or moral indignation will seduce me into the very closed-mindedness I am combating in others. More and more I am distressed by the intolerance I witness not just among those who perpetrate injustice, but also among those who fight it, as though moral conviction entitles us to dehumanize those we deem to be “the problem.” And so I ask myself, how can I use my anger to energize me without defining my way of doing my work? For me, this question plays out around four recurring themes: ■ Will I allow the conventions of my discipline and the fear of looking “unscholarly” to silence the part of me that needs to speak beyond the intellectual, to acknowledge and embrace the emotional connection I feel with those with and for whom I am advocating? ■ Will I on settle on simplistic explanations that support the views I wish to promote rather than daring to explore complexities that may lead me to conclusions I’d rather not consider? ■ Will I have the courage to see those whose actions I abhor with the same three-dimensional lenses I would expect for myself? ■ Will I indulge in the opportunity to throw barbs at those working against causes I believe in—especially when I know, sadly, that those barbs will earn “points” among some in making me seem more radical or my critique more scathing? My point here is not to compare the risks involved in dismantling systems of oppression...