The definition of rent as we all know it: “A tenant’s regular payment to a landlord for the use of property or land,” according to the Oxford dictionary.

        The far less common definition of rent (also described in the Oxford dictionary): “A large tear”. A large tear, a rip in the fabric, a hole in the roof, a puncture of a noun, any place, thing, or person. “Rent” is no longer solely about the responsibility to pay for the roof over one’s head, but also about experiencing the harsh realities life can wield.

        And that’s exactly what Jonathan Larson successfully aims to do in his award-winning Broadway musical, Rent. The characters are forced to learn how to shield themselves from, or choose to embrace, all of the adversity thrown at them: poverty, AIDS, drug abuse, complex relationships, etc. Set in the New York City ‘90s, the main characters struggle with paying their rent, while simultaneously mending their personal rents.

My mom and I outside of the theater where the production was held. Photo courtesy of me. 

        Although a wide array of crucial social issues are addressed throughout the intricate storyline, the most outstanding affair was the combination of having AIDS and no money to handle it. In true SAMO fashion, the AIDS epidemic was completely out of my previous realm of attention, as I had never been educated on the topic even though it is still a very prevalent social issue.

        For a brief background on the storyline of the show, please refer to the image below:       

Source: Rent Playbill

        Roger and Mimi represent two of the main characters who struggle with being HIV positive. The two, as well as Roger’s ex-girlfriend April, demonstrate different ways that an HIV positive person may deal with this “rent”. April committed suicide (before the show begins) right when she receives the news of her diagnosis, hopeless about her future. Roger then deals with this mourning of April as well as his own intense fear of dying by rarely leaving his house, and obsessing about the one good song he must write before he dies. Finally, Mimi, who is only 19, lands on the other side of the spectrum, as she claims there is no time to live besides in the present. In one of her classic songs, “Another Day”, she sings: There’s only yes, Only tonight, We must let go, To know what’s right, No other course, No other way, No day but today”. All three coping mechanisms center around the toxicity of HIV and AIDS, as death is rarely a question. Add this dark cloud to their already impoverished lives, and it becomes clear why Rent is a musical rooted in social issues.

        All of the characters in the show are constantly struggling with introducing themselves to, and creating relationships with, new people, as they must eventually reveal that they carry the “baggage” of the disease. This neglect of speaking candidly about their condition roots in the fear of discrimination and stigma that molds around HIV and AIDS. Avert, a UK-based charity, fights for the reduction of this stigma and to grow a greater awareness of the truth of this disease. In Avert’s article titled, “HIV Stigma and Discrimination,” the charity highlights the main causes of this stigma: the association with death, the belief that it is only transmitted through sex, moral fault or irresponsibility, etc. Although all could be considered valid, the cause of stigma that most closely aligns with CST ideas is the false belief that “HIV is associated with behaviours that some people disapprove of (such as homosexuality, drug use, sex work or infidelity)” (Avert). Because of this, people who are already part of target groups that Bobbie Harro describe in “The cycle of socialization” get loaded with more target social identities. For example, a black homosexual man may already face discrimination for his natural qualities, but if he were to be unfortunately diagnosed with HIV/AIDS, he would only be further isolated to the outskirts of society.

        Avert specifically highlights this marginalization through their infographic that explains how discrimination can lead to poverty and poverty can lead to a lack of healthcare resources.

Courtesy of Avert. 

        Harro’s piece specifically parallels this self-fulfilling prophecy as she writes, “This learned helplessness is often called internalized oppression because we learned to become our own oppressors from within” (5). If people with HIV/AIDS are consistently told they are not good enough to hold a job or find love and build a family, their own self-esteem level and motivation plummets, causing them to be prone to a desperate lifestyle.

        Avert additionally notes that the stigma actually causes the further development of the virus, as it has the power to delay one from getting the treatment they need due to shame: “UNAIDS and the World Health Organization (WHO) cites fear of stigma and discrimination as the main reason why people are reluctant to get tested, disclose their HIV status and take antiretroviral drugs (ARVs)”. Let that sink in: stubborn, ignorant biases about an extremely life-threatening disease are a cause of fatality. If that information does not serve as motivation to educate yourself and your community about the realities of this condition, I’m not quite sure what could be. As with most social issues, education on real-world issues (such as those discussed in CST) is the key toward achieving a more empathetic world. Margaret J. Wheatley highlights this in her article, “Willing to be Disturbed” when she writes, “It’s not our differences that divide us. It’s our judgments about each other that do. Curiosity and good listening bring us back together” (4). Judgments create rumors, rumors create societal beliefs, and societal beliefs create stigma and discrimination. The cycle repeats until the true or untrue belief becomes a well-known fact without validity.

        In the case of HIV/AIDS, this “well-known fact” took on the form of laws. Avert reports, “Criminalisation of key affected populations remains widespread with 60% of countries reporting laws, regulations or policies that present obstacles to providing effective HIV prevention, treatment, care and support. As of 2016, 73 countries criminalized same sex activity”. This stigma developed into laws that prohibit patients, and their perceived target groups, from recieving the the treatment that should be a civil right.

        Saving innocent human lives somehow got lost in the mix of politics. It’s time to get our priorities in line.

The Rent Playbill. Photo courtesy of me.

        The characters in Rent were all able to find joy in their lives without materialism or good health through friendship and perseverance. In his poem, “The Person Sitting Next to You,” Ross Snyder writes, “She also has the right to be understood. And unless she can be understood by other people, she is thwarted from being a person” (1). Despite being “thwarted” by society, Roger, Mimi and those in their community understood and empathized with one another, giving them a bond centered around humanity.

        Humanity gets lost in politics, formulating stigmas that kill. Words truly are a weapon, so it’s time to start choosing those words, as Larson did so cleverly with the musical’s title, wisely.

My mom and I enjoying the walk to the theater in the sunshine 🙂 Photo courtesy of me. 

“She’s psycho.”

“He’s acting like a sociopath.”

“You’re literally insane.”

“What a spaz.”

“Retard.”

“I’m gonna shoot myself, I did so bad on this project.”

“They are just crazy.”

        These labels and phrases are casually thrown about daily. Just walking through the halls of any institution—perhaps Glenbrook North High School but additionally a workplace, community center, sports arena, almost anywhere people are gathered—I could guarantee one would hear an abundance of these labels strewn lightly about like flower petals.

Examples of various mental illness labels. Photo courtesy of Psychology Today. 

        But in these cases, the flowers aren’t a symbol of celebration, demonstrating acceptance and love. In fact, casually, carelessly throwing around these words adds to the growing stigma around mental health, the stigma built by our very own cycle of socialization. Whether these label perpetrators are talking about someone with a mental illness or someone without one is unimportant to the fact that derogatory labels are hazardous regardless. They have the ability to devalue the mental illnesses people actually do live with, as well as act as a blockade from achieving empathy with others. Labeling is not an effective tool of organization in a society that needs far more integration. Although topics of race and religion are common in discussion of integration, this piece and our Gallery of Conscience booth work to shine a light on a whole different target group that gets far less attention: the mentally ill. And yes, that does include the chronically mentally ill, the ones that society has forced the mass population to turn a blind eye to as they are simultaneously blinded from reality by being placed in jail.

        In his book, Crazy: A Father’s Search Through Mental Health Madness, Pete Earley discusses how the cycle of socialization is responsible for creating, maintaining, and further feeding the stigma around mental illness. Through memoric reflection about his bipolar son as well as extensive research on and first-hand experience visiting jails full to the brim with untreated mentally ill patients, Earley does not hold back. Even the title of his book is a nudge at the stigma itself.

        In proper MLA citation: “They are just crazy” (Too many people to count, everyday).

        Earley highlights this stigma while reflecting on his visit to Passageway, a treatment center that aids mentally ill felons in their transition back to independent living. Carl, a middle age man with schizophrenia who lives at Passageway, explains, “‘They [people in society] don’t feel sorry for someone who is schizophrenic. You know what I hate? I hate it whenever I hear someone say they are acting ‘schizo.’ What they mean is they are acting like they got two different personalities. Being schizophrenic ain’t anything like that’” (Earley 334). Carl’s vulnerability confesses that these labels being applied like sticky notes instead of tattoos has a genuine, negative impact on the mental health of the mentally ill. As if they weren’t already reminded of their illness daily by hallucinations in their head and irrational, uncontrollable thoughts and desires, they receive additional notions from strangers in society.

The effect that stigmas and social judgment have on the treatment habits of the mentally ill. Graphic courtesy of Mental Health Commission. 

        Because of our own self-serving biases and egocentric tendencies, it is easy for us to criticize people who outwardly shun mentally ill, or the police officers who lock them up, as we claim “I would never do something like that”. However, in reality, we are feeding the stigmas that created the mass incarceration of the mentally ill just by being a non-active citizen. Bobbie Harro explains this concept in her article, “The Cycle of Socialization” when she writes, “The cycle has a life of its own. It doesn’t need our active support because it has its own centrifugal force. It goes on, and unless we choose to interrupt it, it will continue to go on. Our silence is consent” (50). If one is not sincerely taking action toward bettering the lives of the mentally ill, they are only further developing the cloud surrounding the disorders. The idea of “taking action” has a reputation of completing an overbearing, intimidating task, like running your own protest or speaking to governors. Although those larger tasks do work toward achieving larger goals, “taking action” comes in many forms. By shutting down a classmate or coworker who uses stigmatizing words like “schizo” in a devaluative manner, one is taking their part in preventing the shame from further infecting society.

        Not only is the “dominant” group in society—the non-mentally ill—blocked from education about those with disorders because of this cycle, but additionally the mentally ill themselves fall into the trap of learned helplessness. Harro highlights this concept and uses “our” to refer to those in “target” groups: “By participating in our roles as targets we reinforce stereotypes, collude in our own demise, and perpetuate the system of oppression. This learned helplessness is often called internalizing oppression because we have learned to become our own oppressors from within” (50). Due to this absorption of “fate”, when unprivileged people believe “they are doomed anyway”, they may embrace society’s expectations of them.

        This is a common thread seen on life’s path for many of the mentally ill, as once they are released back on the streets after serving jail time, they often fall back into drug abuse or a lack of job maintenance. Earley shares, “The justice system is completely overwhelmed with mentally ill inmates, and few of them were getting any actual treatment [in jail]. Instead, they were being shuffled back and forth between the jail and the hospital, being made ‘competent’” (78). The mentally ill are robbed of a chance of improvement at any point in their perpetuating cycle as affordable, practical and proper treatment is not yet a guaranteed right. The classic debate of how much social security should be given to any disadvantaged group arises once again, although the mentally ill are hardly ever in the spotlight of the daily news. Once again, they are pushed away to the outer edges of our attention, isolated from the average citizen.

Child Mind Institute provides information on how education has the power to prevent further spreading of the mental illness stigma crisis.

        The next step after taking action is achieving empathy. Because of Earley’s position as a mentally able man himself, he gives insight on the difficulty of his personal journey of finding this sense of understanding. He writes:

The federal government says mental illness is a chemical imbalance, and because of that it’s a sickness and not something, {…} that anyone seeks or wants or deserves to get {…}. But deep down, we really don’t want to believe that’s true. Because if we did, we would have to admit: It could happen to us. It could happen to me. I could become the sniveling, deranged creature hiding under the steel bunk nibbling on day-old orange peels. And that is such a frightening thought that we quietly search for explanations to prove that the mentally ill really aren’t like us and they somehow deserve the torment they suffer” (Earley 122).

        Admitting that mental illness is a biological disorder is one thing; admitting that we are in no control of who obtains these imbalances is a whole different battle. If we collectively learn to accept that we are genetically able to acquire a mental illness at any given time, it becomes far more easy to look at those with disorders with our hearts instead of just closing our eyes.

        And finally, after one acknowledges the hazards of the cycle of socialization, takes action, and finds empathy, they can work toward liberation. Earley demonstrates his own liberation through the production of Crazy itself, and in his reflection of dealing with having a mentally ill son: “You can’t lose your patience with it, and most of all, you must never give up. You can sit around and complain, or you can empower yourself and tell yourself, ‘Okay, life isn’t fair—so what! What can I do to make this situation better?’” (235). Earley’s advice almost perfectly mirrors the notion given by Harro about what it truly means to be liberated: “It is taking charge of our own destiny and creating the world we want to live in, together with all the others we need to survive” (624). The cycle of socialization is bound to exist due to our history of repression and segregation. However, the option of embracing what makes us human by leading with our hearts instead of with our preconceived stigmas is truly at our fingertips, no matter what dominant or target groups we may identify with. The mentally ill are in need of the assistance of the everyday citizen.

        Reduce the stigma, fight for the rights of those who cannot fight, and create a world we are proud to live in—full of flower petals, lightly strewn for the right reasons.

        Between 25 and 40 percent of Americans with mental illnesses will face incarceration in their lifetime, according to the National Alliance for Mental Illness (NAMI).

        Twenty five to forty percent.

        Just by inheriting, being born with, or developing a chemical imbalance in your brain, you are put at severe risk of spending the majority of your life behind bars. Or, if you are lucky enough to escape the repetitive cycle of street life to jail time to life on the street once again, you will still be permanently branded with a criminal label practically tattooed to your forehead, screaming “I am unsafe to be around” to any future employer or partner.

Photo courtesy of PRISON Policy Initiative. 

        Two questions naturally arise: Are these mentally ill “criminals”, who might justifiably be labeled patients, really bad people; and, how is this cycle fair?

        Although the American incarceration process is complex, these answers are quite simple. No, the mentally ill cannot unfairly be defined by a mistake that was completely out of their conscious control, and, it plainly isn’t fair.

        Incarceration of the mentally ill has been a long-standing issue governing American politics, criminology, and mental-health movements for decades, and however many tactics are used to attempt to gain momentum to improve, little has seemed to stick. In recent years, though, hope springs again, as a new program providing complete community partnership on all fronts has shown some promising growth in how the cases involving the mentally ill are handled.

NAMI’s explanation of CIT programs.

        Crisis Intervention Teams (CIT) are programs that work to provide training from professionals in the psychiatry and psychology fields to first-responding police officers. NAMI states that more than 2,700 communities nationwide have implemented this strategy as of today. Outlined by NAMI are the main benefits of CIT programs, including the fact that “diversion programs like CIT reduce arrests of people with mental illness while simultaneously increasing the likelihood that individuals will receive mental health services”. CIT programs aid police officers in learning precise procedures to carry out when dealing with a suspect who they consider mentally ill in the heat of crime or confrontation. This way, instead of rashly killing the suspect, or taking them into the revolving doors of American prisons, the suspect can be taken directly to a treatment center to get the medical attention they need.

        The medical attention that should be customary, a human right, for the mentally ill.

        Because although the mentally ill suspects are often perpetrators of their crime, they are simultaneously victims of their mind.

Photo courtesy of Hamilton Country Sheriff Office.

Examples of police doing CIT programs.

        Journalist Pete Earley discusses this topic in his research- and experience-based novel, Crazy. Earley roots his passion for aiding the mental-health incarceration crisis in his role as a father of a bipolar son, who broke into and entered a random house during one of his delusional episodes. Earley quotes Armstrong, a prosecutor who advocates for the mentally ill on trial, “Most of the mentally ill defendants whom we deal with are not criminals. They didn’t have any concept of what they were doing when they committed a crime. If the point of prison is punishment and rehabilitation, then what are these people being rehabilitated from—their mental illness?” (311).  The point of highlighting the mental illness of an accused is not to excuse their dangerous (unconscious) behavior, because it does put others in the community at risk, especially when dealing with major crimes. Rather, the point is to emphasize that the mentally ill should not even be given the opportunity to put others at risk by being cycled between jails and streets, and should instead be put in treatment. This is where Crisis Intervention Teams come in, giving police the tools and skills to intervene at a front-line level, and prevent mental ill incarceration from growing exponentially, creating an ever-expanding or ever-repetitive cycle.

        As nice as it would be to say that the idea for CIT programs arose solely from a desire for change, unfortunately it is not the truth. The creation of the program was a reactive measure, formed after a tragic shooting in Miami. Randy Carlos Baker, a 49-year-old black man, was walking home from his cousins’ house while a bank robbery simultaneously occurred a few blocks down. Out of racial profiling, a Miami police officer pulled up next to Baker, who insisted he had done nothing wrong. Due to Baker’s mental illness, he became aggressively angry. A fight followed as more police officers were brought in as backup, and it ended with a three bullets in Baker’s now-dead body.

        Again, Baker had done nothing wrong, yet his family was now mourning his loss, and he would never make it to age 50.

        Earley writes about how Miami Herald columnist Jim DeFede emphasized in his work, “‘Baker did not have a criminal record and had not broken any laws when the police decided to question him. ‘Randy Baker’ should be alive today’ he declared. […] DeFede noted that nearly all thirty-four municipalities in the county that had operated their own police departments had added CIT training—except Alvarez’s [the department in which Baker was shot]” (348).  Innocent people are being shot due to a mix of their target social identities: not only was Baker mentally ill without receiving proper treatment, but he was also black, predisposing him to stereotypes and a high rate of racial incarceration. If the Miami district would have put forth the effort and financial resources into creating a CIT program, Baker and other mentally ill “criminals” would not only be alive, but also getting the treatment they deserve.

The complexities that arise when combining multiple target social identities. This graphic demonstrates the statistics on black people with mental illnesses, which predisposes them to potential incarceration based on profiling. Graphic courtesy of Mental Health America.

        Dr. Amy C. Watson at the University of Illinois at Chicago and Anjali J. Fulambarker, a Master of Social Work, discuss the research behind the newly implemented program in their article, “The Crisis Intervention Team Model of Police Response to Mental Health Crises: A Primer for Mental Health Practitioners”. Watson and Fulambarker highlight that recent studies show that CIT has improved the safety of first-responder and suspect interactions. In Memphis, there is a correlation between CITs being used and fewer Special Weapons and Tactics (SWAT) teams operating. Additionally, less force usage and fewer injuries have been reported. Watson and Fulambarker found that “CIT officers used force in only 15% of encounters rated as high violence risk and that when they did use force, they generally relied on low-lethality methods. In our study of Chicago’s CIT program, we found that CIT officers used less force as subject resistance increased than officers that were not CIT trained”. Crisis Intervention Teams, such as the one in Memphis, are decreasing police brutality that is based on presumptions, as more thorough analysis of the suspect is completed before making any impulsive, violent decisions. Through an increase in programs like CIT, state officials have the opportunity to change the culture of violence in America. Today, our society is accustomed to treating controversy with brutality, even though we’ve always been taught not to fight fire with fire.

        Earley describes why fighting fire with fire is especially hazardous in the mental-health incarceration process. Forcing people with mental illnesses into cell blocks with no treatment before throwing them back out on the street when they are deemed “suitable” is a double-edged sword. It not only makes life miserable for them, but also continues to put others in communities at risk, as the patient often still has delusions and hallucinations that potentially lead to criminal activity. He discloses, “The justice system was completely overwhelmed with mentally ill inmates, and few of them were getting any actual treatment. Instead, they were being shuttled back and forth between the jail and the hospital, being made ‘competent’”. Clearly, the jailing systems of America today are completely reactionary measures, and lack any ability or desire to aid inmates into a smooth transition out of a concrete box and back under the blue sky. This exact dilemma is the reason Crisis Intervention Training programs are long overdue. Prevention is key here, yet many of our institutions are blind to the concept. Or, if they do understand, their vision is far too fogged by politics and money to clearly consider the health of their patients.

        As crucial as it is to improve the living conditions and legalities of people who are jailed for their illness, it is equally important–and ultimately preventative–to work on erasing the stigma behind mental illnesses. Watson and Fulambarker note, “Additional research on CIT has shown CIT training is associated with improvements in attitudes and knowledge about mental illness,” as they cite a survey administered to 159 officers before and after 40 hours of CIT training in 2005. After the training, administrators noted a significant decrease in a officers’ aggressive mindsets and an increase in open-mindedness regarding the power of schizophrenia treatment program.

        Earley matches this research with a direct quote from Miami Lieutenant Cochran, who reported to Earley that the departments had difficulty talking about mental illness because of the stigma and prejudice portrayed in society.  Cochran explains,

“Unfortunately, the police mirror that, and Hollywood magnifies it by always showing mentally ill persons as violent and dangerous and sadistic. When we began CIT training, I began to see these people differently. If you saw a man with a white cane trying to cross a busy street, I can guarantee you that most Americans would help that person cross safely. But every day we pass people who have a mental illness on the street, often they’re ranting, and we don’t see them with our eyes and we sure don’t see them with our hearts. I have a problem with that” (Earley 354).

        These new educational programs for law enforcement have the capability to deconstruct stigmas and reorganize how an officer, the first responder before or during any traumatic event, views these victims of their own mental illnesses. Because criminal cases are so heavily represented in our media, society will begin to absorb their attitude change and reflect it into their own behaviors toward the mentally ill.

        Crisis Intervention Training programs have the potential to spread change like wildfire, and can absolutely not only decrease the number of non-guilty “criminals” placed behind bars and improve protocol safety, but can also give us all a little more human empathy.

        Empathy is feeling others’ pain, in one simple form.

        But keeping it simple won’t change the injustices of society.

        Empathy is unselfish, nonjudgmental, and centers on introspection.

        Empathy is frustrating—a difficult trek where people cannot quit after lap one. One must be strong enough to acknowledge where they fall short in understanding others in order to run the extra lap. The extra mile.

        Empathy is tying your laces tighter, even when it’s pouring rain and cold, your legs are sore, and your life is telling you to skip the run today, to stay inside your warm house where you’re comfortable.

        Empathy is not just offering a shoulder to cry on while you reside in your shield bubble, pretending support is a synonym for empathy. Both beneficial, sure, but empathy has the potential to spread change throughout society. That’s where pain is worth measuring—when it does not come easy to gloss over, or to grasp. When change is needed.

        Although empathy can be considered simply, it comes in infinite, varying forms. Claudia Rankine, author of Citizen: An American Lyric, delves into the intricacies of empathy through her use of second person. The reader, addressed as “you,” is taken through an array of stories. From facts about Serena Williams’ struggles with the “rules” of tennis, to lists of names of innocent black people who faced police brutality, to regular microaggressions submitted to Rankine, “you” are running, or rather sprinting, a mile in the shoes of one in the black community.

The New York Times discusses Serena’s constant fight against the injustices she faces in tennis, an activity typically described as a “white man’s sport” in their piece, “The Meaning of Serena Williams”. Rankine uses Williams’ story to challenger her readers to either stick with sympathizing or begin empathizing.

       When dealing with convoluted cases that require a high degree of empathy, such as those of racism, a level of intellectual curiosity is necessary to settle into those shoes. In A Thinker’s Guide to Ethical Reasoning, Paul and Elder explain that to be intellectually empathetic, one must be “skilled in breaking reasoning down into its component parts, and one must be proficient in assessing reasoning for its clarity, accuracy, relevancy, depth, breadth and logicalness” (0). Empathy for a friend losing a loved one may be something we can all relate to, therefore the process comes easier. However, when dealing with the complexities of race addressed in Citizen, Paul and Elder’s idea of connecting ethical evaluation to compassion must be examined. It’s crucial to address legal, historical, and personal perspectives in order for an outsider to conceptualize the pain felt by the ingroup.

        Intellectual empathy is especially potent in Citizen, in which Rankine lists important dates, people, and events relative to the history, and additionally, the now, of the black community. Because these concepts are not explained on the page, to gain value from Rankine’s submission, one must put forth effort into developing empathy for the cases. Rankine intentionally creates this challenge, to separate the readers who aspire to gain empathy, to join the journey, from the audience merely skimming the list, standing still.

In a 2012 article titled, “Stop and Frisk: Racist and Ineffective,” CBS discusses how the program simply leaves the city with a “policy of racial harassment” since 2002. Although city officials stress that the program ensures safer streets, in reality, between 2002 and 2012 guns were found in less than 0.2% of stops (Miguel).

       Rankine specifically mentions the Stop-and-Frisk program in New York City a few pages before when she writes, “Still you are not the guy and still you fit the description because there is only one guy who is always the guy fitting the description” (109). Although powerful alone, this quote aligns with the program. One may be able to feel sympathy for the “guy fitting the description,” but can only measure this pain intellectually, and empathize, by researching more. Readers would then discover that America’s most established city’s program allows police officers to temporarily detain, question, and search civilians on streets for weapons and contraband when they have “probable cause”. This new information adds another layer, and brings the reader closer to the perspective of the black man feeling targeted. As Richard William Paul and Linda Elder purport, the reader is now able to measure pain according to its depth, logicalness, accuracy, etc., giving them a lens that those without intellectual empathy cannot see.

        In this example and other societal issues, intellectual empathy is crucial in deciding when pain is “worth” measuring. It’s impossible to accurately measure everyone’s pain on a universally used scale, a concept that Eula Biss sifts through in her work: “The Pain Scale”. Biss writes, “But pain presents a unique problem in terms of measurement and a unique cruelty in terms of suffering—it is entirely subjective” (12). Although measurement is challenging, some form of understanding the relativity of pain is necessary when analyzing society and where change should be focused. Rankine prioritizes the pain in the black community (rightfully so) in a unique manner by combining both the factual side of pain with the empathetic side.

        In our modern age, the personal side of pain acts as the “cold side of the pillow,” as it gets lost in the abundance of news stories constantly flooding our screens. Our society has become somewhat immune to hearing news of tragedies, as we are used to hearing a new form of chaos every minute. This is no secret to the black community, as they face more hardships than many other target groups. Rankine flips the pillow over in her use of second person; subjectivity can no longer be a question when the reader is pressed with poignant anecdotes like, “It’s awful to go back home to find your own dead child” (Rankine 84). Suddenly, empathy is the only way to read into others’ lives.

        Once the audience digests pain felt in Citizen, or any material discussing inequalities faced by target groups, it becomes a lot more difficult for the person to hang up their running shoes and call it a day. Social responsibility should kick in as motivation for humans to get our twisted society into shape. As Ross Snyder so simply states in his poem, “The Person Sitting Next to You”:

“She also has a right to be understood. And unless she can be understood by other people, she is thwarted from being a person” (1).

         Empathy isn’t so simple, but the fact that we are all people is.

         Why is it so hard for so many to understand?

         Citizen challenges “you” to ask yourself that very question.

        I live in a privileged neighborhood full of people full of dominant traits. I am white, Catholic, able-bodied and financially stable. In my life so far, I have yet to face many, if any, discriminatory acts or words against the parts of my social identity.

        However, I am unsure of how long that will last. I am a female in a world built by males. I am still a young adult, and the only “institutions” I’ve faced as I’ve grown up have been dance studios, schools, and park district jobs, all of which treat girls equal to boys (or may even favor girls).

        Despite this, my shielded bubble formed by both a privileged town and my youthful innocence is seeing its last days before it pops, dropping me into the reality of my drained bank account, a cycle of rejection letters from job interviews, a crummy apartment, and eating a microwave dinner alone on my IKEA couch.

        Although the idea of living in the city as a young adult promises exciting memories, it’s also home to the realization that women are not treated equal to men.

        My SAMO experiences from both quarter one and quarter two brought to fruition new perspectives and stories from agent groups that I am not a part of. In October, I learned the grueling journey a refugee must embark on in order to find a safer place to call home. In January, I analyzed art created by young inner-city black children that provided me with insight on what it’s like to be treated less like human beings and more like targets. Although the perspectives I gained from people entirely different from me are extremely valuable, this time around I tried something new. I gained perspective from my potential future self as a working woman in the 21st century.

        Undoubtedly, I leave each SAMO experience thankful for project, but spending my Friday night at The Second City in Chicago felt less like a school project and more like an adventurous night out. Because theater is hardly ever not accompanied by dinner, my friends and I took it upon ourselves to get tacos before the show. It’s unarguable: tacos make any night better.

Hannah, Julianna, and I enjoying authentic Mexican coke and Mahi tacos. Photo courtesy of Sami Scholl. 

        Julianna Gordon, Sami Scholl, Drew Milkens, Hannah Nyren, and I headed over to Broken English, a taco joint in Old Town, for a quick bite and even scored a free order of chips and guac. The night was already set up for success.

        Walking into the theater, I could feel the buzz of excitement among the audience, especially due to the pre-show activities. The producers had set up interactive photo booths full of signs of hip slogans and pictures of celebrity activists that definitely appealed to our youthful attitudes. We laughed at some, we agreed with all, and we surely didn’t pass up the opportunity for a photo.

Examples of feminist slogans in the photo booth. Photo courtesy of me.

My friends and I posing with the fun slogans and activists. Photo courtesy of the Second City employees.

        The show itself was undeniably funny, but in a unique way. After each laugh came a feeling of vulnerability, as I knew for one of the first times in my life, I was experiencing being on the target side of a societal joke. All this time I thought I had yet to experience the cons of being a woman in society, yet as the show progressed, there was an abundance of little actions and thoughts I could relate to. For example, the actresses mocked a variety of commercials that targeted women, like advertisements for detergents, hair products, or shaving cream. Each actress emphasized how their commercial character prioritized achieving a perfect appearance and pleasing their “man” above all else. In a different skit, the women were lined up like drill sergeants before a Girls Night Out, as their “colonel” commanded them: “DON’T GET MURDERED.” Laughter rippled through the crowds at both of these bits, but I couldn’t help but think about how when I walk down the street at night, I feel inferior and weak, and when I watch those commercials, I feel stereotyped and pressured.

A photo of the stage before the show began. Photo courtesy of me.

        As I write, I reflect on why these feelings had become so natural to me, so innate to the point where I hadn’t previously recognized that these feelings are results of the cycle of socialization. In her piece on the cycle, Bobbie Harro explains, “We get systemic training in ‘how to be’ each of our social identities throughout our lives” (2). I had grown up being taught and believing that women do the laundry; that’s just the way it is. That women have to work harder for a “perfectly thin” body; that’s just the way it is. That women can’t walk alone at night; that’s just the way it is. I am fortunate enough to be growing up in a generation where women everywhere are refusing to accept these unwritten rules, and each step I take toward blurring these once strictly-drawn lines, the closer I get to freely enjoying my life as a woman with no expectations.

A screenshot from the Second City Website of the three actresses in the “Privilege” skit. 

        “She The People” challenges “the way it is” in more topics than just those described above. One of the skits that stood out to me the most was the opening act, in which three characters were having a girls game night. One was a lesbian, one was a black woman, and the last was a white woman. The game was titled “Privilege” and the rules entailed that each player would pick up a random card from the deck and it would tell your pawn how many spaces it can move. The white woman ended up “randomly selecting” cards that declared she won the lottery, was given a raise in work, got married, and more. The lesbian woman got cards that said she faced discrimination at work, and lost connection with some family members when she came out. Lastly, the black woman was challenged with discriminatory voting polls, and was eventually incarcerated. No matter how hard the trio tried to mix up the cards, the same woman got the same type of card.

        At the end of the skit, all three women picked up a card that declared they still lost, just for being female.

        This act creatively demonstrated how much work it truly does take to disrupt the cycle our society is cemented upon and within. Activist upon activist and citizen upon citizen work day and night in order to straighten out their rights, yet any improvement takes decades to surface. How is it possible that our society as a whole claims to be open for change, yet so little is made?

        In an effort to root this problem to its source, I explored what Peggy McIntosh had to say in her piece on our Invisible Knapsacks. McIntosh writes, “I have often noticed men’s unwillingness to grant that they are overprivileged, even though they may grant that women are disadvantaged. They may say they will work to women’s statues, in the society, the university, or the curriculum, but they can’t or won’t support the idea of lessening men’s. Denials that amount to taboos surround the subject of advantages that men gain from women’s disadvantages. These denials protect male privilege from being fully acknowledged, lessened, or ended” (1).

        It’s as if McIntosh had the key that unlocked the secrets of the universe. She specifically highlights male versus female roles, but her realization could be applied to any of dominant versus agent roles, like the lesbian and black woman described in the opening skit. I picture dominant and agent groups on a seesaw. A dominant group may acknowledge that the agent group is almost touching the ground and emphasize it needs to be lifted up, yet the dominants won’t make any effort to lower themselves.

        Finding equality amongst genders is only possible if men decided to play their part by lowering their side of the see-saw.

UN Women’s HeForShe movement partnered with the California Institute of Arts to raise awareness for gender equality through various art forms. This piece by student Danski Tang highlights how males have such a concrete placement at the top of the seesaw due to the instillation of gender roles in society. It demonstrates how it will take effort for men to move their own “grey blocks” that prevent them from aiding in finding gender equality.

        The final topics that stood out to me were the acts pertaining to women facing injustice in the workplace. Much of the show continuously hinted at how a woman’s primary job was to raise children, sit still, and listen to men give them orders. I had always been interested in this controversy, as the concept hits “close to home,” or quite literally, in my home, as my mom has always emphasized to me women in her office face stereotypes daily surrounding how much work they can handle, and if that high-paying leadership job is “suitable” for them. My mom is highly successful in the financial-services world, one where women are far less represented. Following viewing the show, I immediately asked her to share her stories of how her gender impacted her route to achieving her successful position. She illustrated how she felt she had to work even harder than men to prove herself, which both disturbed and inspired me.

Graphic courtesy of me.

        As I look forward to my potential career paths, I question how much discrimination I will face daily. Although I know women no longer (generally) deal with large acts of aggression, the pain faced as a working women in a predominantly male career path comes in small doses: having to question if my work outfit will be “distracting” for males at work, wondering if my male colleague truly deserved the promotion over me or will he just look better to the competition, and researching if equal pay has even solidified yet. In relation to Eula Biss’ pain scale, these daily inconveniences and intrusive thoughts act as itches. Biss further explains, “But a nasty itch, I observed, can be much more excruciating than a paper cut, which is also mild pain. Digging at an itch until it bleeds and is transformed into pure pain can bring a kind of relief” (7). Keeping consistent with Biss’ metaphor, the “digging” to me is any sort of action against this male-dominated society. Although it may be painfully uncomfortable or risky to speak out against sexism in either the workplace or just to the general public, the relief felt by going against the grain is worth it.

        I may have just scratched the surface of my skin by attending “She the People,” but the impact it had on my view of the female role in society surely burns more than just a scratch. As I get older and these sexist acts become even more prevalent in my daily life, I’m not afraid to itch until I bleed, and experience the relief of gender equality.

My friends and I leaving the show impressed, impacted and excited for the ice cream a few doors down. Photo courtesy of me. 

Look at your reflection in the mirror.

What makes you matter? What makes up your matter?

According to a CBS News Survey, 97% of women have a negative body image.

      Confidence in appearance ignites delicately for women and just as it begins to kindle, society reminds them of their lack of worth with another advertisement or discriminatory act, and the spark is snuffed. Roxane Gay explores what elements shape her in her memoir, Hunger, as she delves into her darkest vulnerabilities.

A quote provided by Roxane Gay’s website: reviews the complexities of her novel in relation to society.

      The mashboard below reflects that your past, your present, and your future are all elements that shape self-perception.

Photo courtesy of me.

What makes you / makes up your matter?

Your past.

         Many are quick to judge others’ appearances without having an understanding of their background. Traumatic events often have a severe effect on self-perception and one’s relationship with his or her body. Rape victims specifically struggle with body-image issues, and not only in a sexual environment, as their self-image is clouded with shame.

Images provided by The Guardian.

         Laura Bates, a journalist for The Guardian, quotes Pavan Amara, a rape victim: “The biggest thing it affected was my perception of my body and my body image. I felt terrible.” Rebuilding her courage, Amara created My Body Back, a project that helps rape victims reclaim their bodies. She sets a strong example for assault victims and bystanders alike; we are all components of the society that generates stigmas about body image. Gay expresses how people judge her yet few know she was raped at only age 12. She admits, “Hating myself became as natural as breathing. These boys treated me like nothing so I became nothing” (45). Rape further propelled her journey toward treating her body badly; Gay lost her independence and pride in her appearance the night of the crime. She felt broken, and now feels misunderstood and disrespected.

Statistic provided by Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network.

What makes you / makes up your matter?

Your present.

        We critique nearly every aspect of our bodies. Although our conscience can alert us that this behavior is wrong and unhealthy, the devil on our shoulders that aligns with the oppressive power of the cycle of socialization consumes us as we fall into a self-defeating trap. Gay explains her frustration when she confesses her unconscious desires for anorexia, despite her conscious acknowledgment of the disorder’s destructive power. She reflects, “I hate myself for wanting something so terrible and I rage at the world that hates me for my body…and the same world that forces too many girls and women to try their best to disappear” (191). Gay raises the concern that too much our physical matter matters: those who take up less space in the world seem to be of more value.

A graphic in the Glenbrook North Torch about the powerful impact of labels formed from our environment on our personal body image. The article includes various stories anonymously submitted by students about their experiences facing the effects of the cycle of socialization here at GBN.

      The cycle of socialization not only forms stereotypes, but also fogs our vision of the truth, propelling us further away from knowing our worth. The cycle’s hidden consequence is the detrimental effect these expectations have on self-treatment. Harro writes, “This learned helplessness is often called internalized oppression because we have learned to become our own oppressors from within” (50). People aren’t born disliking parts of themselves; we’ve bowed down to the cycle as loyal students, seemingly unable to question the doctrine.

What makes you / makes up your matter?

Your future.

       Our future is a part of who we are; we spend much of the present planning what’s next. Those with body image issues, though, seem stuck and never search for self-love.

       It’s a matter of putting forth the effort to stop setting appearance-altering goals, and to begin achieving self-love goals. As Harro explains, “Liberation is taking charge of our own destiny and creating a world we want to live in, together with all the others we need to survive” (624). By generating hatred of ourselves, we plant seeds for a society of misjudgment and preconception. Kelli Jean Drinkwater, an activist for body politics, defines her view in her TED Talk, “Enough With the Fear of Fat”: “I’ve even been called ‘the ISIS of the obesity epidemic…It also speaks to the panic, the literal terror, that the fear of fat can evoke…By advocating for self-determination and respect for all of us, we can shift society’s reluctance to embrace diversity and start to celebrate the myriad ways there are to have a body.” Liberation through advocacy develops throughout her speech, as Drinkwater serves as a model for a community of bystanders. If we all begin to see more of what our bodies are capable of and don’t fall prey to historical stereotypes, liberation becomes an attainable goal.

        Our bodies—all bodies—can do incredible things. They enable us to build cities, to cure sicknesses, to embrace each other, to laugh. To love. To liberate not only ourselves, but also our society.

Look at your reflection in the mirror again.

Do you reflect the world you want to live in?

Sources in Mashboard:

• “Americans Can’t Escape Long-Disproven Body Stereotypes” – Amanda Mull – The Atlantic
• “49 States Legally Allow Employers to Discriminate Based on Weight” – Areva Martin – TIME

Winter break lends itself to many activities and new adventures. It’s a perfect time to unwind, relax, and catch up with family while gathered around a fire. Or maybe it’s the right time to explore a new place, like the sunny beaches of Florida or the frosty slopes of Vail.

Although traveling is certainly a valuable privilege that shouldn’t be disparaged, over this break I learned a few key things. First, seeing the look on your great-grandmother’s face when she opens a handmade gift on Christmas morning that you sewed yourself is a euphoric feeling. Second, and far more related to CST, is that there is no need to travel to experience a new culture. Sometimes, all you need is a train ticket and set of walking directions to the Chicago Cultural Center, a gem in the middle of my home(ish) city.

My mom and I in the cab entering The Loop on our way to the Chicago Cultural Center! Photo courtesy of me.

As my mom and I entered the building, I was awestruck with the incredibly detailed architecture with magnificent design. It felt fitting that the former Chicago library, so attractively constructed, now serves as the house for some standing cultural attractions plus a rotation of exhibits that have just as much value as the structure itself and the font of knowledge that preceded them. Value comes in many forms, and I gained perspective, self-revelations, and new understanding of the power of a word.

Ceiling dome. Photo courtesy of me.

Entrance to main hall. Photo courtesy of me.

Staircases. Photo courtesy of me.

Outside the museum! Photo courtesy of my mom.

The Chicago Cultural Center itself aims to educate curious citizens who want to explore the societal components that make up our city–whether that be issues they can empathize with, or issues they had always, intentionally or subconsciously, turned a blind eye to. On my particular trip, I grasped insight to the African American culture, one I had always been eager to learn about but had yet to delve in to its layers.

As I reflect, I can’t help but clearly see that my fog of the African American culture is a result of my white privilege. If I had to deal with some of the issues later discussed in this blog that the African American community is forced to face, I would not be so lax when it comes to putting forth the effort to learn about this very prominent element of Chicago.

Peggy McIntosh explains this “fog” in her article, “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack”, when she writes, “I could freely disparage, fear, neglect, or be oblivious to anything outside of the dominant cultural forms” (5) due to her race. Although the words “neglect”, “oblivious” and “disparage” all fit into the category of what many people in my sheltered hometown of Northbrook do with these target group issues, McIntosh’s word choice of “fear” stuck out to me. Connecting to my own life, I now understand that part of the reason I have failed to address discovering the contrasting cultures of the city (and beyond) is because I am fearful. I am fearful that I will not be able to empathize, understand, and do enough to aid in solving these issues, and I am fearful to finally acknowledge the ignorant position I have taken by hiding in the cushions of my privileges.

But fear is not excuse, and addressing reality is always the first step to making a change.

Outside the exhibit! Photo courtesy of my mom.

The first exhibit my mom and I ventured to was titled: “African American Designers in Chicago: Art, Commerce and the Politics of Race”. The bright room was packed with various media, propaganda, newspaper articles, advertisements, poems, and even children’s dolls that have represented the African American culture over the course of the 20th and 21st century. Although many of the featured pieces were historic, the explanations of the exhibits specifically highlight how these designs, made by African-American artists but still often in ways that seem to play into racist stereotypes, still impact media and are sometimes still present in media today.

Various examples of propaganda, advertisements and news articles in the exhibit. Photo courtesy of me.

What colors describe you? Does your mind immediate jump to the literal meaning of the word (black, white, etc.), or does it find a more creative answer: yellow on your happy days, blue to represent calamity, to name a few?

Or, through a different lens, what does the color of your skin mean to you? Is it the literal complexion number you may match up with your makeup, the heritage of your ancestors, or the stereotypes that define your social identity?

For those in the African American community, the word black means far more than any of the examples I listed. One of the striking pieces in the exhibit was a poem by Barbara D. Mahone, at Burrell McBain Inc., an advertising agency that specifically targets the African American community, written in 1969. Mahone artistically explains that the word black is far more than a skin tone; it is a representation of the bond her community, her family, has formed. She wrote, “The color of the blood we lose […] is Black,” emphasizing how the identity of the African American community has been strengthened throughout the turmoil they have faced.  

Photo courtesy of me.

While analyzing this poem and connecting it to contemporary issues today, it was strikingly clear how the ideas of Mahone parallel Gloria Naylor’s “A Question of Language” piece. Naylor, an experienced author, tackles the intimidating task of unpacking what the n-word truly means, how important context is, and who should be “allowed” to use it. Although my initial reaction to the n-word is always disgust because I have been taught that it is solely a racist term, Naylor explains how her family was able to take that apparent insult of a word and mold it to become an opportunity for community to strengthen. In discussing her family, she writes, “Gathering there together, they transformed n*gger to signify the varied and complex human beings they knew themselves to be. […] Meeting the word head-on, they proved it had absolutely nothing to do with the way they were determined to live their lives” (2). In the same way that Mahone transformed the word black to portray the strengths of her culture in the advertising industry, Naylor’s family made the choice to take the reins on their future, showing they are above the stereotypes and racist tendencies that still define our cycle of socialization.

Headshot of award winning novelist Gloria Naylor. Source: The Guardian

As I continued to explore the Chicago Cultural Center, I stumbled upon the exhibit featuring various stories, artwork pieces, poems, etc. of children who live in Chicago. It was titled Peacemakers and Community Connections. Although this exhibit and the first one I examined seem different at first glance, I could not help but draw similarities of the power of word choice. In the same way that both Naylor and Mahone taught their audiences that a word is far more than its basic definition, the artistic children exemplified this same idea when discussing what the term “Chicago” represents to them.

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I stood in shock, noticing how nearly every piece dealt with violence and oppression in some manner. My heart was broken as I reflected on how I get the privilege of reminiscing on my childhood and remembering backyard barbeques, kick the can, and bike rides to the local ice cream shop, while these kids might look back on memories of gun violence, murders, and drugs, to name a few. My own rosy retrospection of my childhood is yet another white privilege I hadn’t acknowledged until my trip to this particular exhibit. Mary Schmich explains this concept in her article, “In a Word, a Slice of Perspective”. She demonstrates yet again the power of a single word, specifically referring to “portion”, describing how as we grow up, we attempt to equalize the servings of luck, love, and privilege we have personally received. She additionally, importantly, notes, “If we fully grow up, we also try to correct the inequalities of the servings given to others. We don’t have to look as far as China and Myanmar to notice how unevenly life distributes its bounty” (2). Living so close to the city, I only need to look 24.7 miles.

Twenty four point seven miles separates my sheltered childhood home from the destructive world of mass shootings, rapes, and starvation that builds the childhood “homes” of many Chicago-raised children.

Brown Elementary School. Source: CBS Chicago

My elementary school, named Greenbriar. Source: Wight and Co.

According to the Chicago Sun Times, there were 588 homicides in 2018 in Chicago. Twenty four point seven miles, and 588 murders separate Chicago’s Brown Elementary school from my own Greenbriar Elementary School in Northbrook.

This saddening statistic allows for two thoughts to arise. First, how did I get lucky to land with this “portion” of privilege in my life? And second, it’s time to fully grow up, as Schmich says, and start giving to others.

Elementary school student Celeste Ford’s acrostic poem, describing their opinion on what the word Chicago represents to them.

I am truly inspired by the strength these children had in expressing their raw, honest feelings of their living conditions that no human being should ever have to face. A poem by Celeste Ford from Brown Elementary School says that “Clarity is hard to find” with “Gun violence in our city, which kills the innocent and our optimism for change”. It’s difficult to find the words to describe the sinking feeling in my stomach, as I question why them, and not me?

As heartbreaking as these stories are, both the children featured in these exhibits as well as the adult authors and advertisers mentioned above are all entering Bobbie Harro’s Cycle of Liberation. She writes that to transform society, we need to be “creating anew a culture that reflects our coalition’s collective identity: new assumptions, new structures, new roles, and new rules consistent with a more socially just and equitable philosophy” (623). Liberation is about redefinition; understanding we are more than the words that once degraded us and decided the path we would be forging before we even took our first step.

My experience at the Chicago Cultural Center and connecting it to the impactful materials provided by CST has allowed me to take my first step, and not follow the ignorant, fearful path that was laid out by my privileges. I am redefining the word fear, and turning it into less of a red flag, and more of an optimistic challenge for change.

The literal definition of fear, that is although applicable in many situations, I will be working towards avoiding when it comes to social change. Source: Google

Throughout my maturation, sense of direction, and knowledge acquired through life experiences, by traveling both near and far, and through the Contemporary Social Themes coursework, I have abandoned my once cushioned position in my privileges. By visiting the Chicago Cultural Center and hearing all the children’s stories through their moving artwork and literature, I’ve realized how much I can grow by deciding to spend a few extra hours of my day pushing myself into a territory I have never traveled. I’ve realized that although fear of the intimidating, violent and depressing unknown is a tangible feeling, it should never stop me from exploration. The more I explore, the more I know, and the more I can help be the change.

Besides, life is better lived outside of your secure bubble. As American author Neale Donald Walsch says, “Life begins at the end of your comfort zone”.

Teresa is an African American student at Brookhouse School who discusses a wide variety of social identity profile labels that define her. In a similar way that Mahone, Naylor and the Chicago children are all able to redefine words that describe who they are and where they live, Teresa uses spoken word to express why she is proud of her multiple unique identities. Her goal is to make the world a happy place, one courageous message at a time. 

They’ve got a good head on their shoulders.

In society, this is synonymous with being a reasonable, thoughtful person who makes good choices. This good head is what helps make ethical decisions, decisions one puts effort toward to be of value to society.

But how do our shoulders metaphorically play a role? Unlike the one head, there are two shoulders, on opposite sides of each other. Perhaps they represent the options we have, which sometimes present a conflict to our head that swivels back and forth as it takes in different information and considers context. When we make decisions that are inhumane, devilish, and foolish, have our shoulders convinced us that those decisions are morally right when they are ethically wrong, or vice versa? Do we think we are following our conscience when we are being persuaded by the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other, just like in an animated children’s movie?

Or, referencing another idiom, do our shoulders have too many chips on them? I think that our various identifiers serve as chips on our shoulders. Our race, religion, sexuality, and more all predispose us to specific biases that can lead to unethical decisions. Following your conscience requires you to remove those chips, those hunches, grudges and egocentric traits that come along with the privileges we do or do not have. The skewed viewpoints that have been instilled in me while growing up in a sheltered, privileged town are the chips I am attempting to knock off my shoulders.

A visual representation of the racial demographics of my high school, Glenbrook North. Although numbers can never tell the whole story, this chart demonstrates how little diversity I experience at my school. I acknowledge how this oblivion, even on the surface level, serves as a chip on my shoulder that I need to remove by exposing myself to more of the world. Source: Illinois Report Card

Peggy McIntosh explains in “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” how the advantages we were born with and those that accompany our social identity profiles not only lead us to have unfair biases, but also tempt us to stay locked in the sheltered bubble of a dominant lifestyle. She writes, “The pressure to avoid it [addressing our privileges] is great, for in facing it I must give up the myth of meritocracy” (5). Meritocracy is the governing of a society in which every individual has the ability to be recognized for their achievements, an idealistic world where inborn privilege is a foreign concept and hard work leads to deserved success.

A cartoon on meritocracy by Josh C. Lyman that illustrates the destructive power of privilege in terms of achieving equality. By using my conscience, I am able to admit that the environment I was raised in reflects the left side, and that same environment has taught me to subconsciously look down on those exemplified on the right side of the cartoon, in the same way the man is. This is a chip on my shoulder I am working on breaking down, as I aim to help lessen the divide between the privileged and the poor. Source: Anthea Indira Ong on Medium.com

It’s discouraging that we have molded a society where some are born into luxury and others are born into hopelessness, even though we all supposedly enter life with the potential to exercise strong shoulders in building good heads. This is our doing; we have created these social divisions, these institutions that cause greater divisions, these stereotypes and biases that cloud our vision, and the actions that limit freedoms of others. It is time to use our sense of conscience, what we perceive as right or wrong in our own conduct, in order to change the setbacks of our society that make the world an unsettling place.

Introspection is necessary to tackle this overwhelming task. We must work to reverse a notion explained in Arthur Miller’s adaptation of the play Enemy of the People, when Mrs.Stockman says, “There’s so much injustice in the world! You’ve simply got to learn to live with it” (35) when the citizens are struggling with deciding if health or wealth is more important. Having this ignorant attitude is taking the easy way out, while learning to use our conscience is challenging but necessary to start forging a good head on our shoulders.

Costume designs for “Enemy of the People” for the Goodman Theater in Chicago by Ana Kuzmanic. To me, these costumes represent how authoritative power of a government head has the ability to alter an entire town’s sense of conscience. People are left in the dark while making a difficult decision of whether health or wealth are of more value, and many chose to live with the injustice instead of facing the facts. Photo Courtesy of The New York Times. 

Wheatley also write books about leadership; Who Do We Choose To Be? specifically highlights how all humans have the potential to follow our conscience as long as we put in effort to exercise these “shoulders”. She specifically writes, “I know it is possible to create islands of sanity in the midst of wildly disruptive seas” (9). Source: Google Books

Margaret J. Wheatley serves as a strong role model as she explains in her article “Willing to Be Disturbed” her own thought process when using her conscience. She writes, “When I hear myself saying, ‘How could anyone believe something like that?’ a bright light comes on for me to see my own beliefs. These moments are great gifts. If I can see my beliefs and assumptions, I can decide whether I still value them” (3). A moment of revelation, whether it instantaneously develops or grows over an extended time period, is truly a gift, yet it takes deliberate effort to see a challenge to our character as an opportunity for positive change.

Psychology discusses how it is human nature to protect our sense of self-concept, our beliefs we hold about ourselves and how we impact others. Paul and Elder explain this idea in their handbook, “The Thinker’s Guide to Ethical Reasoning”, writing, “There are too many ways in which humans can rationalize their rapacious desires and feel justified in taking advantage of those weaker or less able to protect themselves” (Paul and Elder 23). Using our conscience breaks down the walls we build around ourselves that don’t expose us to the reality of our decisions, telling us it’s time to face the facts.

Using our conscience can also fortify our decisions, even in the face of judgment by others. Reflecting on my own experiences, I can identify times when I have succumbed to a devil on my shoulder and times when I have followed my moral compass. An example that clearly stands out is my decision to not eat meat. After doing thorough research on the effects of eating meat on personal health and the environment and on the inhumane processes in the industry, I made the choice to give up animal products. Although I knew this new social identity could elicit negative feedback and backhanded jokes, I stayed confident in my ability to make ethical decisions based off of the good head I built on my educated but emotive shoulders.

Examples of some of my favorite vegan meals! Photo and food courtesy of me:)

Exercising conscience, which uses our moral compass based on ethical reasoning, helps us look ourselves in the mirror and feel confident in the actions we take. Let’s use this mirror to see where our shoulders fall short, and then let’s strengthen them.

Who am I

Am I my certainties?

My positions,

My beliefs,

My interpretations?

My weaknesses?

My weaknesses sitting next to me,

Can I embrace them?

Howling now

Can I embrace them?

Wind grew stronger

Can I embrace them?

Far off the in the distance . . .

No

I can not conform to the assumptions made about me

My weaknesses, I embrace

But they can not thwart me from being a person

I don’t want to lose what I have, what I could be

I am willing to admit

THEY

Are essential to our society; they who think differently have a right

WE

Are essential to our society; We are all so different and to some that is scary

We’re not a many sided-whole

when we’re alone

But together we divide

My curiosity sitting next to me,

Terrified of society, with us inside it

Can I embrace it?

Howling now

Can I embrace it?

Wind grew stronger

Can I embrace it?

Rising . . .

We’re not capable of figuring things out alone

Curiosity is essential to the survival of our society

WE and THEY:

Essential to the survival of our society

But together we divide

Curiosity is a storm

Small and surprisingly quiet

Stepping in

Moving to the corner that is the weakest

Then

Screaming at our complex world,

Where we pretend to agree with one another

We can not be superficial in our curiosity

YOU are essential to the survival of our society:

Your certainties, your positions, your beliefs, your interpretations, your weaknesses

Listen more,

Not less

Challenge the system

Add to the storm

Curiosity

You and I.

THEM and WE.

This is how the world changes, we change it together

But we are limited,

Fearful of the storm of curiosity

Why?

Children holding hands

In the storm of curiosity,

In the wind of weaknesses,

A rich tapestry of viewpoints

There were so many storms, but we never ran away

A city, a community

Clasping hands

Rocked again by the storm

          If I didn’t know any better, I might have thought I was going through a haunted house. What refugees have to endure is truly frightening, and like those October amusement attractions, Doctors Without Borders’ “Forced From Home” exhibit is startling, visceral, and, indeed, haunting. But it’s also real, and inspiring. By attending this exhibition, I gained new insight, and more importantly, began to empathize with immigrants as I took a few steps in their shoes through the simulation format of the event. Doctors Without Borders (DWB) labels itself not as a company or an organization, but a movement–a movement that aims to provide medical assistance in underdeveloped areas all over the globe, and to inspire others along the way. As its volunteers and experts trek a path of giving to others and helping those in need, DWB strives to gain as large a following as possible in not only asking for donations and volunteer help, but in also spreading factual, and often disturbing, information that is necessary for people to understand if they are to be active citizens. With this mission in mind, DWB set up an hour long tour/simulation that engaged us participants as we mimicked the steps refugees are forced to take as they embark on their struggle being forced from home. As we followed the track, we heard powerful statistics, personal stories, and medical insight; and absorbed impactful pictures. Megan Philbin, Sami Scholl and I were guided by DWB workers who had personally given aid in multiple countries in need, including Greece. Although it is impossible to ever fully know what a refugee experiences without being in their position, this immersive tour brought my perception more parallel to reality, as I gained a new perspective on what it is like to not be treated with basic human dignity.

Megan Philbin, Sami Scholl, and I prior to entering the tour. Note: these expressions do not reflect our emotions during the tour, we were just excited to be there! Photo courtesy of me.

          The simulation began with a 360-degree video dome that played clips from underdeveloped countries, interviews of refugees as well as DWB professionals, and videos of the journey to a new land (most commonly the United States or a country in Europe). The video set the stage for the entire afternoon, as the 360-degree aspect immediately gave off the effect of immersion. I was taken aback by how difficult it was for some of the refugees to explain their situation; they were often brought to tears as they described the need to take the risk of evacuating their home, all they’ve ever know, in order to provide a better opportunity for their children. I almost has tears in my eyes, as I reflected on how I never had to even think twice about where I live, my protective shelter, while other children in impoverished or war-torn areas are having their whole world flipped upside down to a strange new place far, far away.

          I do not have to think about my location of living because I do not live in an area in which my safety, health, and security is always on the line.

          I do have to think about how moving to new environments in the future will affect me, as I have been privileged to rarely have to worry about my safety.

          The dome stage is what initially sparked me to think about I do/do not statements, and through following the journey of a refugee, I was subconsciously always comparing their circumstances to my own. This comparison was also fueled by the guide’s constant provocative questioning that allowed for an interactive and thoughtful environment, like when our guide asked, “Have any of you ever had to see a loved one pass? How about your own child passing?” These questions clearly hit home with many of the participants, and made me feel a thousand times more thankful that I am able to take a breath when it comes to worrying about the safety of my family. However, being thankful is not enough. I started entering the mindset that I need to help, too.

The identification card assigned to me. Photo courtesy of me.

          The next stage was labeled “push factors,” and we learned about the reasons a refugee would be forced to flee their native land, including lack of resources, a corrupt government, war/violence, ethnic and religious tension, health care access, natural disasters, economic instability, etc. I was given an “identification card” that said I was an asylum seeker from the Republic of Honduras. I learned about other countries too, like the fact that 4.4 million Sudanese people have been forcibly displaced due to attacks, violent conflicts, health care instability, and diseases like malaria. In order for this stage to cultivate participants, the program directed us to take only 30 seconds to pick five items we could take from home on the long journey ahead. The pool of options included everything ranging from wheelchairs to passports to fishing gear. I decided to take my passport, my pets, my phone, whatever money I had left, and pictures of my family.  This quick decision proved to be difficult, and I struggled to decide if I had made the right choice, as taking pets may be impractical even though they are considered family to me. Throughout the simulation, we were forced to give up our objects one by one until we had nothing left. This became increasingly difficult for me, and I thought back to those I do/do not statements.

          I do not have to live in fear of what vital item I may have to sacrifice on a regular basis because I live in a financially stable area with people I know protect me.

          My ability to empathize began to grow in this stage, as I struggled internally while choosing what to give up. I couldn’t imagine how difficult those decisions would be in real life.

Examples of the item cards we had to choose from when deciding what to keep and what to sacrifice as a refugee. Photo courtesy of me.

          The next two stages taught me about transportation and legal status. The guide explained to our tour group that unregulated transportation can be extremely dangerous and how so many refugees are lost or killed taking this transportation. Examples may include overcrowded lifeboats, riding the tops of trains, or trekking on foot for seemingly endless miles. Surviving the slog, however, could prove fruitless if the legal status of a forcibly displaced person was not accepted at their destination. The legal statuses listed included: internally displaced person, asylum seeker, refugee, stateless person, and migrant. For me, learning the differences and the recognizing some of the intricate nuances across the labels is crucial to becoming an active, well-informed, and empathetic citizen. This is exactly what we strive to do in CST. In order for me to take on my goal role as an ethical human being who avoids egocentrism and biased opinions, I need to understand the difference between these categories. For example, I was not aware of what an asylum seeker is, because I had been socialized through the cycle to immediately link the work “asylum” to the words “mentally insane,” and that’s all I ever grew up hearing. However, now when I do a Google search on the definition of asylum, the mentally ill example is marked as “DATED.”

          My oblivion of what this word really means showed how much I had to learn through the simulation, and I now understand that seeking asylum really means seeking protection. I was drawn back into CST, as I know I am constantly learning from my peers by observing what terminology is correct and what is considered unacceptable and/or hurtful in today’s society. Understanding terminology, what labels indicate, and what stereotypes come with these labels are all critical in the process of becoming an active citizen.

Examples of mock medical tents/basic needs centers. Photo courtesy of me.

          Next on our mock journey came the stations of basic needs and medical needs. At the basic needs station, the tour guides told us that DWB provides camps that the refugees reach as they cross various borders. DWB aims to provide food, clothing, connectivity, water, hygiene, waste management and shelter, although they are not always able to accommodate all due to limited funding. This station was particularly intriguing because of the visual comparison shown below. A person needs 2 gallons of water a day to survive, including that used for drinking,  waste, washing, etc. However, the average American uses 90 gallons each day. I was taken aback and now reflect on my egocentric tendencies, how I have hardly ever taken time to analyze where I can save water and how I can give opportunities for water to those in needs. In this situation, I am acting as the good-hearted, but uncritical person. As Elder and Paul explain in The Thinker’s Guide to Ethical Reasoning, the uncritical person is “manipulated by self-serving critical persons and easily indoctrinated” which results in “the person being victimized or blindly led into victimizing others” (8). Prior to the simulation, I was in an oblivious state, and only feeding to the cycle by taking actions that unintentionally hurt others (not saving water) instead of helping others, which Elder and Paul emphasize as the basis of being ethical (4). The medical stations had the same effect on me, as I realized how many basic needs I take advantage of, like my nearly unlimited supply of nutrient-dense food (while most refugee kids are malnourished) or my access to clean needles and nurse assistance. The guides explained to us that the most common medical concerns of displaced people include unsafe water, insufficient food, poor hygiene, overcrowding, exposure to elements, and little access to medical care.

The visual provided to show that the average person needs 2 gallons of water per day to survive, and how each American uses 90 gallons daily. Photo Courtesy of me.

          Once we finally reached our camping and destination stages, I was in awe of how many factors are in play when a person flees his or her country, either intentionally or unintentionally. The guides were able to express the refugee crisis concern of DWB through using facts and figures versus opinions and political motives, which is essential in proving their points and gaining a wide following. To close the tour, the guides provided us with an impactful quote: “At a time when global displacement is at record highs, many of the world’s richest countries–including the U.S–are closing their borders or sending people back to places where they face death and persecution” (Jason Cone, DWB USA Executive Director). They followed up this quote by emphasizing that seeking safety is not a crime.

          Because deciding where and how the refugees will experience their journey is a controversial topic that deals with a variety of ethical issues, it is essential that the DWB projects must follow the guidelines of the ethical reasoning handbook. If the organization did not act under a neutral political stance, people of the opposing opinions would be quick to shut it down and dismiss the organization as manipulating. Elder and Paul write, “Ethical concepts are hopelessly confused with theological, ideological, and legal ones. This confusion often keeps people from doing what is ethically right” (36). By attending this event, I learned how presenting a controversial topic without pseudo-ethics is possible and necessary for the progression of our world. This simulation clearly heavily relates to our CST class, because being an active citizen includes staying updated on current events, being able to reflect on our own privileges (I do/do not statements), and learning how to use ethical reasoning before making decisions, and potentially changing lives for the better.

Seeking safety is not a crime.

Photo courtesy of me.