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Title: Trying for Springs Author: dot matrix Date: 2006 Language: en Topics: AJODA, critique, culture, diversity Source: Anarchy: a journal of desire armed
More faults are committed while we are trying to oblige than while we
are giving offense.
— Tacitus
As people who reject the status quo, we are all critics. But most of us
have learned how to critique badly, and so we either are, or are
perceived to be, judgmental, dogmatic, sloppy, and ideological, as
opposed to helpful, contextual and interesting.
Anarchist culture, to the extent that it operates on middle class white
(protestant) values, is a culture of interpersonal niceness, with a
mythology that tells us that people respond better to support and that
support always looks like calm voices and careful communication, that
good intent on everyone’s part is not only essential but is always
apparent. (If we are paying attention, we can all remember times when
people have said sadistic things to us in a calm voice, and other times
when people have hurt us needlessly from good intentions.) Sometimes
none of the above is true, frequently it doesn’t need to be true, and in
fact we are hampered by the assumption that it is true. Not only
that,but support and care look different coming from different people.
Especially in a culture that has mixing of diverse peoples, it is
inappropriate to expect that nice, support, or care, will (or should)
always if look the same. The homogenization of what support is supposed
to look like increases as more and more people rely on and learn from
therapists — people trained in formal institutions to interact with
their clients in specific ways (ways that are considered neutral, but
that reflect and promote values from a specific culture). And many times
this increasingly narrow range of options means that our bottom line is
departure, that is, the conflict resolution tactic that we fall back on
more and more is the abandonment of the conflict, be it embodied in
person, place, or situation.
This tendency towards abandonment seems to increase how often and
desperately people cling to the rhetoric of community. Community comes
to be misunderstood as a place where everyone likes each other, where
everyone agrees with each other; it could be better understood as a
place where people appreciate what they like about each other and live
with what they don’t like, where there is enough of a buffer of size and
variety to allow that and where, even if and when people leave, they
don’t disappear.
lf we broaden our range of conflict options, what do we have? Talking to
people more, and more creatively, about our problems, and being engaged
in other people’s problems more and better than we are now. Being around
long enough to see things through, and (if we travel) of coming back
frequently enough, and for long enough, to maintain connections and
information about significant events. Becoming tougher people, who
challenge each other emotionally as well as ideologically and ethically,
who ask each other (and ourselves) hard questions including “how do we
live with insoluble discrepancies?” (The point of these hard
conversations is to increase our ability to meet each other’s needs in
real life situations, from violence to arrest to drug use to raising
children to dying.)
What kind of support do we need to learn in order to become tougher
(that is, able and willing to keep fighting for what we want when things
are difficult)? Obviously there is not one answer for this. Just as
obviously, we are all traumatized by this culture, and to the extent
that we are explicitly and consciously outside of the mainstream, we get
stepped on and beaten up. So being gentle with ourselves and each other
is appropriate. But not always appropriate. The more monolithic the
concept of support comes to be, the more proud or comfortable the role
of victim, and the less likely we are to recognize our full range of
option for acting in the world.
An appropriate toughness includes being able to avoid getting wrapped up
in questions of intention. (Intention is too often brought up as a way
to manipulate and deflect.) The ability to get something useful out of
someone’s critique does not depend on how well-intentioned the critic
is. How many stories have we heard of people who were told they couldn’t
do something and were motivated to succeed by that resistance? How many
times are we told that “we can succeed” by people who care nothing for
us and merely want to sell us something?
Anarchists have chosen to be against most things in this culture, have
chosen to fight on most possible fronts. As part of that fight, we take
on our deepest assumptions about what we are taught, about appropriate
relationships to other people and the rest of the world. This requires
being tough in a way that nice society doesn’t teach us or support. How
do we learn to be tough in the ways that we need to be?
How well we are who we want to be is an issue of luck, which we can’t do
anything about, and of will, which we can.
A good critic is the sorcerer who makes some hidden spring gash forth
unexpectedly under our feet.
— Francois Mauriac