DATE WITH DANIELLE

AM I DISQUALIFIED?

by Danielle Klooster

When we see problems, we have the urge to fix them. But are we qualified?

In recent days, I’ve been part of a few conversations about how one can be of help to marginalized or traumatized people. In one of the discussions, a group of good and sincere men were grappling with how they can make a difference in the issue of violence, domestic or otherwise, toward women. The other was related to our colonial approach and systems, the impact on Indigenous people, and how we non-Indigenous folks can and should show up for them.

There are Problems

I’m told there are three kinds of problems: complex, complicated, and chaotic. These big social and societal issues are all three kinds. As such, there are no simple solutions. Although the scourge of violence against women has become much more spotlighted in recent years than ever before, it certainly doesn’t seem to be diminishing. Recent shootings in the US are a clear indicator that there are many men who blame women and feel victimized when they don’t receive the attention, submission and satisfaction to which they feel they’re entitled. As a sexual assault survivor, and a person who has been trained in recognizing signs of domestic abuse, I was asked what insight I could offer as to what men could and should ‘do’ to impact the culture of silence and tolerance around men’s violence toward women. Of course, the obvious thing to do is speak out. Some men have made a commitment to do that and are posting their thoughts on social

media, as well as learning more about the issue and fostering male discourse. This is good! They want to be allies. But – what else can they do? They feel a little helpless, a little at a loss. There are sensitivities. The men I spoke with are keenly aware that, as men, they may be perceived to be disqualified to have a voice or take action, simply on the basis of their gender. Actually, the same goes for the Indigenous experience. Though we feel that progress has been made, there is still a long list of many very real barriers. How can I, as a non-Indigenous person, possibly have a perspective, a voice, or a right to help move the needle on racial and systemic discrimination? Does my Caucasian persuasion disqualify me?

Things I Can Do

I can tell you that my heart is deeply moved on both of these issues, and my desire to make a difference is strong. I despise seeing people suffering at the hands of others. I want it to stop. I want to help make change. And I fully believe that there are things I, and everyone, can do.

I can:

1. Recognize my privilege. I know, I know – talking about privilege really sticks in the craw of some people, because they don’t feel particularly privileged. But the truth is, social and systemic constructs exist on both of these fronts that place some in a more advantageous position. Because of this, the last thing needed by those affected is for someone to gallop in to be a saviour, deciding they know what to do and how to help. It’s arrogant and condescending. It exaggerates and exacerbates the power differential and puts me above those having the experience.

It is not allyship. 2. Look for connection instead of answers. It’s totally okay to not know what to do or how exactly to help. I can choose to listen and learn, recognizing that everyone is on their own journey and having their own experience.

I can choose to come into conversations with a humble heart, seeking to connect as humans, understanding that this is help. It is the starting place of help, the foundation.

Honour people. Validate their feelings and experiences. Cry with them. Love. 3. Offer. There are things I can do to help, to be an ally. While it’s true I shouldn’t decide what’s best for people affected by these issues, I can certainly offer them what is at my disposal that may make a difference. I open my hands and they get to decide. I must recognize that having my heart is in the right place and noble intentions doesn’t automatically mean my help will be appreciated or received, and that’s completely fair. I respect everyone’s right to be on their own journey, but I can offer what I have.

It’s the Women

I was privileged, a few years ago, to go and listen to Dr. Murray Sinclair speak. He had been the Chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and was touring the country to bring understanding of the resulting report. As he shared the deeply painful stories of those affected by systemic discrimination and the residential schools, I was profoundly moved. I knew I wanted to do something to bring healing, but I was keenly aware of my Caucasian-ness. I felt helpless and at a loss. Disqualified. So, during the Q & A, I went to the mic. I tearfully asked him to please help us to understand what we could do to make a difference. His answer stunned me.

He said to the audience, “If you are a sister, please stand.” Several women stood. “And mothers,” he continued, “please stand.” More women stood. “Now, aunties and grandmas and daughters.” Now, every woman was standing. “It’s you,” he declared solemnly. “You will bring the healing.” There was silence. There was not a dry eye in the place. It was a moment I will never forget. Why women? He never did say. But, if I were guessing, I’d say it has something to do with the Universal Law of Gender. You see, we all have both masculine energy and feminine energy in us. Masculine energy is what we lean into when we are on ‘output’, ‘penetration’, ‘fixing’. Feminine energy is about receiving and openness. When it comes to those who have been traumatized and marginalized, feminine energy can foster and atmosphere of healing. And all people can show up in their feminine energy. All people can sow love and light in their corner of the world. All people are qualified to be agents of healing. If you are a person who has been traumatized or marginalized, I want to make a difference for you. Please show me the path. I’m open and ready to receive. I’m human. I’m qualified.