Fighting injustice can trigger trauma — we need to learn how to process it and take healing action

Are we simply trying to “shut shit down,” or do we want to open up this nation’s wounds and clean out the infections so that we can all heal?

Originally published on August 18th, 2020 by Waging Nonviolence. Republished here under a Creative Commons license. Click Here for the original article. 

Mourners from the Reparations Procession in front of the Oakland City Hall

We are traumatized. Let’s start there.

Trauma can be defined as your body’s reaction to experiencing or witnessing something deeply disturbing. Post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, is a condition caused by exposure to a distressing event “outside the range of usual human experience.”

A global pandemic. The resulting economic crisis. Videos of police killing unarmed Black people. Images of federal troops in military fatigues and assault rifles confronting protesters every night. The global climate crisis. The ever-increasing population of houseless people. Trump.

One could argue that none of these things are within the “range of usual human experience.” Even if you have not been directly impacted by them or do not know anyone who has gotten ill from COVID-19 ― and even if you have a stable income, have never been attacked by police and live in a wealthy community ― witnessing these events in the media over and over can cause what psychologists call indirect, insidious or vicarious trauma. We absorb it simply because there is so much of it in the air.

Perhaps you have noticed signs of trauma playing out in your own life, in your relationships and in your household. Common responses to trauma can include anxiety, short tempers, hyper-vigilance, withdrawal, fatigue, cynicism, lack of empathy and restlessness, among countless others.

And in recent months, I have witnessed all of that come pouring into the streets and manifesting as collective trauma.

I don’t know if I am overreacting, but I feel like in my 39 years on this planet, I have never witnessed a time when things felt so fragmented and polarized, where things are so heated that it feels like society is tearing apart at the seams. Whether it’s protesters getting shot and run over, deadly violence over face masks or the general tragedy that passes for our political system these days, I feel like we are experiencing a collective trauma response.

When trauma is triggered, our neocortex ― the part of our brain that gives us the ability to reason, think through consequences, solve problems and take in and process new information ― becomes disengaged. We begin operating from the less evolved part of our brains: the limbic system (responsible for emotions) and the reptilian complex (responsible for survival instincts).

When trauma is triggered, our lives may not be in actual danger, but our brains don’t know that. Our survival instinct kicks in, and we lose the ability to see nuance and see everything in black and white. Something is either threatening or it’s not. Something is either right or it’s wrong.

When trauma is triggered, we lack the ability to take in new pieces of information, to be creative, consider different perspectives or think about long-term consequences. If our lives are being threatened, there is no time to consider any of that. You simply need to react, to fight or run away so that you can stay alive.

When trauma is triggered, everything feels escalated even if it is not. The brain floods your body with adrenaline and cortisol, leading your muscles to tighten. You begin to feel that the next threat is around every corner. And that sort of hyper-vigilance goes against our natural resiliency.

A Black/white worldview. An inability to see nuance. Struggling to think about long-term strategy. Being unable to consider different pieces of information.

Sound familiar?

And it’s happening on all sides.

I believe that Trump is an incredibly traumatized individual who has not had any opportunity for real healing. And him acting out of a place of trauma is waking up the trauma of a lot of his followers and supporters.

And in movement spaces, activists are constantly facing militarized police violence and having conversations about historical trauma ― oftentimes in unskillful ways that open up trauma but do not help move through them.

And then we hit the streets, and it’s trauma meeting trauma. And that is not an interaction conducive to healing.

Spaces for nonviolent direct action can be intense, scary and easily trigger a trauma response. And yet, those spaces are critically important right now to push for change. Our responses to violence and injustice have to match the escalation that it is responding to. And we are responding to incredibly escalated forms of harm. Nothing short of a direct confrontation with the systems of power feels appropriate.

So how do we engage in those spaces in a way that is likely to bring about healing? How do we not meet trauma with trauma, panic with panic, fire with fire? How do we build movements that can tactically “shut down” a highway, while leading with a spirit of “opening up” possibilities for healing and transformation?

Study trauma

Racial justice advocate and healer Victor Lee Lewis says that every activist needs to have some understanding of neuroscience and how trauma works in the body. In addition to classic literature on nonviolence strategies such as Gene Sharp’s “The Politics of Nonviolent Action” or Saul Alinsky’s “Rules for Radicals,” we should also be studying books like “My Grandmother’s Hands” by Resmaa Menakem, “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel van der Kolk and “The Politics of Trauma” by Staci Haines.

Names like Peter Levine and Brené Brown should be as commonly spoken in organizing circles as Grace Lee Boggs or Leonard Peltier.

This nation is undergoing a collective trauma response. Trauma, whether it is manifesting in one individual or in a collective, will exhibit the same characteristics, and will require similar strategies to heal. The more we can understand the dynamics of trauma, the better position we will be in to help us move through it.

Move through trauma

Preparing our communities for nonviolent action should not only consist of the traditional “nonviolence” training methodologies ― blockades, medic training, legal observation, etc. It should also include learning emotional regulation tools in the short term, and a long-term commitment for each of us to learn about our own triggers and heal from our own wounds.

Gandhi spoke of the importance of “self-purification” as part of the spiritual preparation for a satyagrahi ― a nonviolent warrior. The language of “trauma healing” did not exist in his time, but part of our emotional and spiritual preparation as we get ready to face potentially traumatic events (getting tear gassed, pepper sprayed, assaulted and arrested) should be to have some awareness of how much unprocessed pain, grief or resentment we are holding, and releasing enough of it so that we are heading into the streets with spaciousness in our hearts.

Emotions like grief and rage are not only natural, but critical for us to honor and embody. And yet, I can’t help but feel that direct action ― with the yelling, the tear gas, the public and fast-paced nature of these spaces ― is not the most productive or safe space for us to be releasing unprocessed grief and rage.

Instead, we need to be creating more safe containers, held by experienced facilitators, that are explicitly designed for the purpose of tending to our grief and our rage. Once we have processed them and moved through them, the raging inferno of emotions can settle into a piece of charcoal: sustained, concentrated energy that is easier for us to utilize in skillful ways.

This is in no way to cast judgement on the outpouring of grief and rage in the streets. Particularly for marginalized communities, each instance of injustice can recall generations of violence for which the state that perpetuated them has never been accountable.

This in only an invitation for us to think hard about the right spaces to do the right work. Not every space can be everything for everyone in every moment. Direct action should be a place where we are inviting society to look at its trauma, not a place where we should feel safe processing our own pains.

Of course, moving through and processing our trauma is long-term work. In the meantime, nonviolence trainings should also emphasize short-term emotional regulation tools, like learning to bring awareness to our triggers, breathing or titration exercises or collective activities like singing. These practices can help us reengage our neocortex in a heated moment.

Shutting it down vs. opening it up

Finally, we need to be intentional about the purpose of our actions. Is it to simply overpower the “other side” and force change down their throats, or is our long-term goal to bring about social healing, transformation and liberation for all?

Are we simply trying to “shut shit down,” or are we trying to open up this nation’s wounds and clean out the infections of white supremacy, patriarchy, capitalism and other forms of separation and domination so that we can all heal?

If it is the latter, then let us be mindful of what kinds of actions may lead to healing. How do we balance the power and assertiveness that we so desperately need in these times, and maintain a commitment to the love and relationships that will bring about healing?

While I certainly do not have all of the answers, I oftentimes think about the power of silent marches, meditation blockades, or actions of spiritual atonement like the Reparations Procession that is currently making its daily walks through the East Bay.

When I was at Standing Rock, the elders told us, as we were preparing to go to town to engage in a direct action, “Remember, you are going to a ceremony.” What kind of creative actions could we think up if we viewed direct action as ceremony, or a modality of healing collective trauma? What possibilities could be opened up then?

In order for us to have that level of creativity, we cannot be in our trauma state. Trauma is not conducive to creative thinking. Which brings us to another paradox of these times ― how do we slow down enough so that we can fully utilize our neocortex and listen to our hearts while addressing the real urgency and opportunity of this moment?

I suppose it can start with something as simple as a breath. As the Rev. René August once said, “The struggle for justice is a marathon, not a sprint. The difference between a marathon and a sprint is in how you breath. Learn to breath.”

East Point Peace Academy receives three-year, $300,000 grant!!!

Since the founding of East Point Peace Academy in the fall of 2013, we have always operated on a Gift Economy basis. That means, among many other things, we have had tens of thousands of people come through our doors and we have never, EVER charged a dime to anybody.

It means we have always relied on our community for support, and spend very little time "fundraising."

It means we have always put our work first, while putting all of our faith in the abundance of the universe, knowing that if our work is meant to be sustained, then our community will come together to sustain us. 

It means we have never taken state money or relied heavily on foundation funding. In fact, the only grants we have ever received have been cases where the funder reached out to us and offered us unrestricted support. It has always been through trust and relationship, not fancy grant-writing. 

It has also mean that we are - by design - a small organization with a small budget, never spending much more than $100-120,000 per year. It means that we believe in slow growth, and that bigger is not always better.

Seven years of this faith has resulted in an incredible opportunity for us. Over the last several months, we have been in dialogue with The Kataly Foundation, a new foundation supporting social change organizations. This also, was based on a trusting relationship with one of its key advisors. And, because of the relationship, we were just alerted that East Point Peace Academy will be receiving $100,000 a year for three-years. 

One reason why we have not been active in seeking foundation funding is because large funding like this often times comes with strings attached. In this case, all the funding is unrestricted.

Other times, funding comes with incredibly burdensome reporting processes that take us away from the actual work. With Kataly, there is very little reporting required.

And often times, funding comes only one-year at a time, with the grantee organization having to prove ourselves over and over again, each and every year. With Kataly, a three-year commitment with the possibility of increased funding in each year shows that, above all, there is trust.

We are so honored, humbled and grateful to the Kataly Foundation for its incredible support. Not just in the money amount, but in their commitment to work through trust and relationship, not contracts and reporting requirements. This is the true nature of the Gift Economy. 

It feels incredible that, in the midst of a global pandemic and economic insecurity, we find ourselves more financially "secure" than we've ever been. And, to be honest, I personally have had to adjust to that. When we first got the notification of this grant, it made me uncomfortable. We've always been a small, rag-tag group relying on faith to get through each month.

I realized at some point that I had grown attached to that image. But I also realized that this attachment was ego. I was attached to a self-image I had created about myself and about our organization. And once I was able to let go of that attachment, a space was opened up that is allowing myself and my colleagues at East Point to envision what our work could look like moving forward.

We are excited to continue to bring you updates as that vision develops. We are facing times of extreme hardships, but with that comes an incredible opportunity for transformation, and this "security" and abundance will allow us to focus solely on the work that we are called to do.

We want to thank not only the Kataly Foundation, but to everyone who has ever been in relationship with us over the years. It is because of the work that we have all done together that this was made possible. Thank you all, for showing us the truth of interdependence, of abundance, and of the power of faith.

In gratitude,

Kazu

Note: This piece is written by a mourner who took part in the Reparations Procession, a project organized by a group of white-identified people who remain anonymous as they believe that white people should not be receiving attention or credit for doing the work of racial healing and atonement. East Point Peace Academy is honored to support this project, but it is not a project organized by us. For more information about the Procession and to offer reparations, visit https://www.gofundme.com/f/rp2020.

It’s a summer day, and I’m dressing in black—all black. Early in the morning at home, I begin as a mourner in the procession. When I arrive at the Ohlone Shellmound sacred site in Berkeley, that has been covered over with a parking lot, I meet the others who are walking this day. We are masked and keeping our distance because COVID-19 is on the rise again here in the Bay Area. I am given my veil and put it on with help from one of the others who clips it in back to keep it from blowing away in the soft, steady wind that’s blowing. Wearing a veil takes some getting used to; my eyesight isn’t what it once was. The three of us gather around a little makeshift altar that has a single white paper flower on it, some feathers and stones. It’s a plastic milk carton box that will be hidden in the bushes again once we’re ready to walk. We stand in silence for a bit and then share any intentions we have for the walk. I say I intend to be present and to pray my way through the city. Really it’s two cities, Berkeley and Oakland that I’ll be present to and praying for. I fail to mention that my prayers will be mostly grieving prayers. This is a walk of lamentation.

And so we set out single-file and moving slowly, deliberately—along sidewalks, across streets, under the freeway, past all the closed shops, homes, apartments, six rag dolls on a stoop, people going about their business, parking their cars, getting coffee, a man who has made a home for himself with all his possessions in a nook along the way, flowers in surprising little spaces. We walk in silence. That is the heart of this practice—this reparations procession. I am walking slowly and silently. I am present and grieving. I am praying, and present. The veil gives me new eyes to see. I think of the history of this land—even the little of it that I know. Indigenous people lived here on the land, there were creeks that flowed into the bay—covered over now with asphalt, cement, buildings. The land was taken. I grieve. My prayers are simple ones from my tradition—a word with each movement of my foot, slowly, deliberately, silently. Any people who notice this small procession of mourners in black—those who ask about it—there is one of us designated to answer, and to hand out postcards describing this thing we’re doing: Reparations Procession 2020. A few ask, a few engage in conversation, we mourners walk on slowly, not speaking.

It’s beautiful to be walking with others—this lament. I realize as I walk along that this walk could be—should be—taking place in cities all over the country. There is so much to mourn—so much to grieve, and we have almost no public acknowledgement of our grief. One woman, as we walk, says she would like to join us one day. “They shot my son,” she says.

We walk alongside beautiful murals of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery and so many many others. We pause at St Columba’s Church where there is a mandala honoring Black Lives and Black Lives lost. There are also simple crosses honoring all of those who have died in Oakland this year. First names, ages, date of death. The names are so important. They seem to say to me: “Say my name.” And I do say them, silently. At Oscar Grant plaza the murals and the names are simply stunning. I pause before the one honoring Elijah McClain. “I don’t even kill flies. I don’t even eat meat” it says. Elijah McCain. Say his name.

This is as far as I am walking today. We meet the man who will complete the walk from here to Fruitvale Station where Oscar Grant was shot to death in the back.

Later when I get home to my own city where it has been my practice during these months to walk everyday, I find that my walking has changed. I walk more slowly, deliberately, silently— grieving—the history of this place, the history of racism here, my complicity in the systems and the culture. There is so much to lament, so much to grieve. So much to be faced and changed. The walk is a small thing, very simple, yet at least for me it is important—and a gift.

Forty Days of Mourning and Returning

The call to action continues to reverberate. Just over a week ago the school boards in San Francisco and Oakland both voted unanimously to remove police from all campuses in their districts. Such landmark decisions are the consequence of the passionate demands for justice in the wake of George Floyd's murder, but also decades of steady grassroots work on the part of Bay Area organizers, activists, and community members.

Meanwhile, thousands of people throughout the Bay Area continue to take to the streets in marches, rallies, bike and car caravans, and vigils. To stay up-to-date on what's happening you can see a calendar of events here. One particularly special mobilization this past weekend was the 50th anniversary commemoration of LGBT Pride in San Francisco, signifying the powerful intersection and synergy of the LGBT and Black Lives Matter movements. The historic march was attended by thousands.

Here at East Point we've begun to direct much of our energy toward a very special 40-day campaign that's gearing up to launch on July 4th. It's called Reparations Procession 2020. The procession will begin the morning of the 4th, with one mourner - a white-identifying person dressed in mourning clothes - walking 8.5 miles from West Berkeley Shellmound (sacred site of the Ohlone people) to Fruitvale Station (site of the murder of Oscar Grant). A single mourner will make this prayerful journey every day, until a total of $25,000 of reparations funds from white people in the Bay Area have been returned to the Black and Indigenous communities here, in the form of redistribution to local Black and Indigenous-led organizations and initiatives. After $25,000 has been returned, a second mourner will join the procession. Two mourners will now walk the route every day until $50,000 has been redistributed. And so on…

Four mourners will represent $100,000 of reparations. Forty mourners will represent $1 million.

A spiritual process of grieving and atoning for the immeasurable harms of white supremacy, alongside the concrete movement of resources from the white community to Black and Indigenous-led groups, represents a powerful expression of the spirit of Fierce Vulnerability that East Point is all about. We're excited to support this unusual and hopeful project, and we hope you will be too. While the mourners in this procession will be white-identifying people, and the ask for reparations is being directed to the white community, there are plenty of ways for people of color to get involved too. Wherever you are on the identity spectrum, if you want to get involved send us an email: [email protected]. And stay tuned for another announcement when the campaign's GoFundMe page goes live, so we can all spread the word and get those resources moving!

I have been working inside San Quentin State Prison, California's oldest prison, for close to 10 years. In that time, I have met countless people dedicating their lives to peacemaking, and have witnessed incredible courage and transformation. There are dozens and dozens of men inside this prison that I have come to know and to care deeply about.

That is especially why it has been so scary to read updates about the coronavirus outbreak there. On May 30th, CDCR transferred 121 men from the California Institute for Men, a prison in Chino, CA that was dealing with its own outbreak to San Quentin. Despite there being over 500 active cases of coronavirus in that prison at the time, and despite the fact that the 121 people transferred were considered "highly vulnerable," many of them had not received a test in 2-3 weeks. 

At the time of the transfer, San Quentin had no recorded cases of coronavirus. As of this morning, there are 1,082 cases among the inmate population, with hundreds more staff being infected. 

San Quentin houses a large population of older inmates. In addition to so many people being vulnerable to the virus, they are not receiving proper medical care or enough personal protection equipment such as soap and sanitizer. The entire prison is locked down, with men who have been tested positive being housed in temporary tents set up on the main yard.

San Quentin has a total inmate population of just over 3,500, which means that almost one in three incarcerated people have now tested positive, most of them in the past two weeks alone. And these numbers are with a lack of adequate testing, which means that the real numbers are most likely higher than that.

We are asking everyone in our community to support the incarcerated people of San Quentin, and that prison and state officials act immediately to protect their health, well-being and basic human rights.

Please check out this full list of resources and action items you can take.

You can also sign this petition.

And contact these people:

1. Governor Gavin Newsom; Public Comment form: govapps.gov.ca.gov/gov40mail/;   (916) 445-2841
   
2. Ralph Diaz CDCR Secretary; [email protected];  (916) 324-7308
   
3. Assemblymember Marc Levine, [email protected]; (415) 479-4920
   
4. Senator Mike McGuire; [email protected]; (415) 479-6612
   
5. Mayor of San Rafael; [email protected]; (415) 485-3074
   
6. Dr. Diana Toche, Undersecretary Health Care Services, [email protected] 
   
7. Office of the Inspector General (OIG): Complaint form: https://www.oig.ca.gov/connect/report-complaint/;  (800) 700-5952
   
8. Tami Falconer, Ombudsman; [email protected]; (916) 324-5448
9. CDCR’s COVID-19 Triage Department; [email protected]
10. Jennifer Barretto, Director, Health Care Policy and Administration, California Correctional Health Care Services; [email protected]
11. Assemblymember Ash Kalra: [email protected], [email protected] (916) 319-2027, (408) 277-1220
12. Senator Nancy Skinner: [email protected], [email protected], (510) 286-1333, (916) 651-4009
13. Senator Scott Wiener: [email protected], [email protected],  (415) 557-1300, (916) 651-4011

Much more information, including sample scripts/emails, links to news coverage, social media images to share and more are in the resource list linked above. Our thanks to groups like the Ella Baker Center and Insight-Out Prison Project for helping to lead the charge. 

Please do what you can to share information with your community. 

Dear Beloved Community,

As you know, we've always maintained a strong commitment to financial transparency. This means that we've sometimes shared news with you that hasn't always been pleasant. And unfortunately, we're in a bit of a pinch right now and we are asking for your support!

As you may know, we've recently switched to a new website. Not only did we switch over to a new website, we left our fiscal sponsor and shifted over to our own nonprofit status, which means that we can start taking in donations directly without a fee. 

This means that payments from all of our monthly donors were cancelled, and we sent emails to you all and asked you to sign up again in our new system.

Aaaaannnndd, that's where the problem started. There is something wrong with our new system, and we have been in contact with tech support for weeks trying to figure it out, but many people are having problems donating through our new site.

This means that 1) we are currently not getting the steady income we typically get from our monthly donors, and 2) it's possible that we may lose a bunch of our monthly donors by the time we figure this out. 

As an organization that relies HEAVILY on support from our community, this is a major loss for us, especially in the midst of the current economy. 

So we are asking our community for support. If you can make a one-time contribution of any amount to help hold us over until we are able to fix this technical problem, we would be so grateful. 

We know that times are hard for so many of us right now, and that there are so many worthy causes to support in this historical moment, particularly for the Movement for Black Lives. But if our work has ever supported you in any way, if it would give you any joy to support the future sustainability of our work, please help us by donating what you can. 

There are links to our current donate page as well as an alternative donation process in the links above. 

We thank all of you in advance, for all you do to support us and for all you do to support the expansion of Beloved Community.

In Gratitude,

Kazu

After much delay and a few technical glitches, we are SO excited to welcome you to our new website!!!

This new site, built on the NationBuilder platform, will allow us to do more than ever to be in service to you all. We are excited to launch new events, offer new ways for people to engage with us, and make the user experience easier on your end with a streamlined registration process for all of our events.

Please take a look around and tell us what you think! Special thanks to Pamela from Made By Pumpkin, Eric from Safe Computing and Justin from Clear Scope Design for all of your help!!!

The first two videos from our Where Do We Go From Here speaker series, with George Lakey and Erica Chenoweth, are now live for viewing on YouTube! If you missed these calls, or if you’d like to watch them again, check them out here and share them with your friends!!!

Join us for our next call with Miki Kasthan, who will present on the topic of “Exiting the Either/Or Trap: Beyond Consensus vs. Command and Control.” Future videos will all be posted on our YouTube Channel!

George Lakey: The Importance of Vision Amidst COVID-19

Erica Chenoweth: Innovations in Nonviolent Direct Action Under Crisis

Beloved Community,

We hope that this message finds you and all of your loved ones in good health. We are writing an important update about the Bay Area regional organizing of the Yet-To-Be-Named Network. If you have been, or are wanting to be involved in the Network, please read this message.

We have decided to postpone our next monthly gathering by one-week.  

As you know, the YTBN Network is committed to working at the intersection of climate justice and racial healing. And in accordance with our commitment to Fierce Vulnerability, we need to be transparent with you about our process even if it may be challenging or vulnerable to share.  

As we stated in our zine (attached here, the statement is on page 32), the Network was founded initially by a largely white community of activists committed to climate action and racial reparations. Partially as a result of this, the makeup of the core community who have been leaning into the design of this Network has also been largely white. This has been an ongoing struggle for those of us in the Network – including the People of Color (POC) who have been at the center of this work.

As we move closer to launching the Network and building teams, we have noticed that some of our larger gatherings in the Bay Area have not represented the diversity of this region. While we have made efforts to address that – including ensuring that at least 50% of participants in our Fierce Vulnerability workshops have been POC – we have also had to be honest about our ongoing mourning of the lack of visibility of some members of our community, particularly Black and Indigenous folks.

We know that the dominant culture of white supremacy is pervasive. Without taking proactive steps to combat it, having the intention of equity, diversity and sharing of power is not enough.  As we sat down to plan the upcoming monthly gathering we quickly realized two things. The first was the need to grapple honestly together about the lack of racial representation in our gatherings. The second was that this should be a process centered on hearing from you, the Bay Area YTBN community.

Changes to the next monthly gathering: Our next monthly gathering, originally planned for this Friday the 24th, is being postponed one-week to Friday, May 1st. This will give the Bay Area Coordinating Collective a little bit more time to think through how we want to hold this space.

When we come together on May 1st, we will join our entire community in some welcoming, grounding and framing, then we will go into caucuses of those who identify as white, and those who identify as POC. In those separate groups, we will reflect, share and offer feedback to this process which we hope will help guide our next steps as part of the YTBN network. .

We are also making this event only for those who A) are based  in the San Francisco Bay Area, and B) have been or have interest in being involved in the YTBN Network.

We know that some who may want to offer feedback into this process may not be able to join us at our next gathering. If that is the case, we invite everyone to fill out this online feedback form, so everyone’s valuable input can be added into the mix  

We are so honored to be in this process with each of you. May it lead to deeper understanding and transformative next steps! 

In Peace,

The Bay Area YTBN Network Coordinating Collective
Aimee, Chris, Kazu, Morgan

Astrid Montuclard has become such a dedicated and essential volunteer here at East Point Peace Academy that we were thrilled to welcome her to East Point’s “core team” in early March. In recognition of this special occasion, and to introduce you to her – if you haven’t met her already – I interviewed Astrid shortly thereafter. Our conversation delved into Astrid’s deep commitment to nonviolence, her thoughts on some of the implications of the Covid-19 crisis for future social change work, and what it takes to take care of ourselves as changemakers in a terribly complicated world. 

Welcome to East Point’s core team Astrid!!

What excites you about working with East Point?

Working with East Point is my dream come true – really. I fell in love with East Point’s work in March 2018 and have been true to this calling since then, as a volunteer for the organization and an actor for peace in other spaces. I deeply, deeply believe in the power of embodied nonviolence. As a healer in training, I cannot think of a better environment to allow my vocation to flourish. Nonviolence is one piece of the puzzle, and that is the one I want to bring to the table.

I’m super excited to have this chance to work with you and Kazu leading up to the launch of the Yet-To-Be-Named Network, and in the important nonviolence and trauma healing programs East Point is doing in Bay Area prisons, as well as curriculum development for trainings, such as Fierce Vulnerability. [Check out Astrid’s blog post about her experience as a participant of the Fierce Vulnerability training here.]

I’m also hoping to become certified in Kingian Nonviolence so I can start facilitating Kingian workshops with East Point’s team of trainers.

How did you get involved in social change work?

As a little kid, I used to dream about changing the world while playing with Barbies. My dolls represented six continents and held United Nations Peace Council meetings in my bedroom with signs and crayons. I guess that was the birth of my social engagement! As a teen growing up in Tahiti, I was somewhat disconnected from wider, more complex issues but felt strongly about bringing simple practices such as recycling and electing eco-representatives in each class of my high school. 

When I entered college in 2013, I temporarily moved away from advocacy and gave my focus to athletics. I was an NCAA I Cross-Country/Track Student-Athlete for the University of Iowa. I eventually left the track team  – largely because I realized that running around in circles on a track wasn’t helping anyone! Some friends and I became Student Government Senators and worked on bringing funding for the university’s mental health programs while launching a mental health disorder prevention campaign on campus. Through this, I became more aware of the way money rules the game, and how politics influence the channeling of resources to or away from underserved communities. 

It was when I got involved with East Point that my psyche opened up to systems thinking and wider theories of social change – and their practical aspects on the ground. After the Kingian workshop in March 2018, the resonance that I felt with nonviolence as a way of life was so strong that I could not not answer the inner calling that I felt. 

What key learnings are you drawing from the coronavirus crisis? What do you think we can take from this experience to strengthen our actions in the future?

Many of us can now feel in our bodies that we might be more vulnerable to social and personal break-down than we initially thought we were. Business-as-usual and routines are powerful forces that kept us from questioning our social structures, beliefs, and daily behaviors before Covid-19. Now, these forces are dispersed, and we do not only know mentally that we are vulnerable, as we might have before, we also know it experientially. Being confronted with governmental inadequacy, interpersonal conflicts, financial shortages, and anxiety attacks is a whole new other level of understanding of our fragility. Obviously many many people have experienced these realities for a very long time, but a lot of us who haven’t been used to that level of experience are now getting a taste of it.    

As a result of a heightened awareness of personal vulnerability, I am sensing that many of us are increasingly moving towards seeking for what actually works and what actually brings us ease, meaning, and balance as we aim to soften the pain of these times. Covid-19 seems to be magnifying the impact of certain dynamics that were already in place before the pandemic – and showing their harm – or benefits – clearly. No aspect is spared: lifestyle, workstyle, choice of relationship, personal health practices. I don’t know anyone who isn’t going over at least one of these aspects with a fine-tooth comb right now. Living creatures, when subjected to strain, strive to return to a natural sense of balance that feels truly good, and I think that is what is happening for many of us right now.

Because of the climate unraveling, we might be headed into long periods of social unrest and disruption of business as usual. Covid-19 is preparation for such times. Regardless of what happens in the future, sheltering-in-place is an opportunity to feel in our bodies what works and what doesn’t work – that is, what contributes to keeping us balanced and grounded, and what doesn’t. Communicating what we learn from this with our loved ones, community members, and direct-action teammates is an important way to build the care, intimacy, and trust that I believe is the glue of the world. That kind of care, intimacy, and trust is what I see East Point cultivating, and I’m so grateful to be a part of that. 

How do you sustain your personal well-being while showing up for this work?

To me, well-being is highly correlated with my ability to show up within myself and in the world in an authentic, loving, centered, nonviolent, and meaningful way. My personal well-being is not only influenced by what I do for myself – it is also greatly influenced by who I interact with, where, and what I do with them – and how I relate to the whole of it. There are several things I focus on. 

One of them I would call making “whole-hearted choices”. I have the privilege to be able to prioritize activities and folks that I deeply believe in and which bring me alive. When I am engaged, I encounter more energy-harvesting situations, which replenish my stocks of joy and hope, and in turn keep me healthy. My challenge, these days, is about saying “no” to opportunities that I know I would enjoy – because there are so many of them coming my way.

Learning to engage with intention in monogamous and non-monogamous romantic relationships, which healthily support everyone involved, is another thing that nurtures my ability to thrive and stay regulated. Societal stigma still plagues polyamory, but I find it to be a fascinating exploration of commitment, love, accountability, pleasure, attachment, conflict, and much more. Navigating the tough situations that come with romance and talking openly about where I’m at helps me stay connected with my true needs and aspirations, as well as my partner’s. This strengthens our capacity to cultivate authentic connections and support one another in tough moments.

Closely related to this is the work of navigating conflict. As hard as it can be – and I am certainly not perfect at it- dealing with conflicts as they arise within myself and with others allows me to feel more grounded and less in my head. As a conditioned conflict avoidant, increasing my ability to engage in conflict also increases my sense of empowerment, which then leads me to make whole-hearted choices – and reduces my stress. Practicing Mindful Nonviolent Communication with Oren Jay Sofer has been a game-changer in that way for me – highly recommended.

The last thing I’ll share is that I’m doing my best to have the various things that I do interconnected in a way that creates a sense of flow and coherence in my life. A couple of pre-shelter-in-place examples are socializing with friends at activism-related events, or practicing meditation in the street while holding climate-related signs to raise awareness. At the end of the day, living an authentic life, to me, is the best way to cultivate well-being.

Is there anything else you would like to add before we close?

Mmmm… I’ve really been resonating with the insight that “What is in the way is the way” –  and I’ve been working on gaining a clearer sense of how my actions impact others, even in micro-ways. For this reason I’d love for our community members and friends to feel free to reach out with constructive feedback about how they experience me when we collaborate or share space together. 

All living beings grow by receiving resources from other parts of their own organism. This is true for organizations too. I would love to facilitate information flow through our East Point organism to foster positive learning and growth, for myself and for the organization as a whole.