Intro
Part 1
Movies with Social Justice Themes
One Final Thought
This is another attempt to continue my process of articulating what I've learned about social justice in my first quarter in the MSW program, and how I see applying this knowledge in my life and work. I have to say that I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable, because there are things I should talk about, and want to explore to some extent, but I feel resistance. Basically, it comes down to fear of judgment or of being misunderstood. I'm passionate about my beliefs, and I realize they are uniquely my own. For the most part I'm confident in them, but sometimes I have the irrational fear that someone is waiting in the wings to tell me I'm wrong or silly or stupid. But, for the sake of honesty and fully embracing this project, I think it's important to address my fears, goals, and own internalized oppression to fully integrate my experiences and goals of social justice.
In my final readings for another class, we were assigned the epilogue of David Gil's Confronting Injustice and Oppression: Concepts and Strategies for Social Workers. I found that this short reading hit home on so many things I've been thinking and feeling throughout the quarter, so I'm going to use quotes from this work in directing my discussion here. I'll properly cite the reading at the end of the post. :-)
Operating with an agenda of social justice...
"It means therefore exchanging the 'bliss of ignorance' for the burden of holistic social knowledge along with difficult new choices, conflicts, and fears."
Yes. In another paper I wrote for my social justice class, I relayed that confronting issues of social justice brings to mind a scene from the movie The Matrix. When I'm feeling frustrated or down or overwhelmed by social injustice, I think, "Someone hand me the blue pill so I can plug back into the matrix and forget about this whole thing!"
The problem is there's no going back. Once you know something in the depths of your being, you can't un-know it. Sayonara, blue pill. So, what does that look like for the future? I don't know for sure yet. Right now, I find myself thinking about systematic structures of oppression, racism, homelessness, poverty, cultural competence, and environmental injustice pretty much all the time. I'm the life of any party right now, let me tell you. I notice more now in my day to day activities. Honestly, it's exhausting. But, a significant number of people have to live these things every day, and I know that thinking about it is nothing in comparison.
"In unjust and oppressive societies nearly everyone is a victim, as well as an agent and beneficiary of domination and exploitation, depending on one's position and roles in hierarchically organized, competitive institutions. In other words, nearly all people are now part of the problem, regardless of personal philosophy, and would have to change their ways of life to become part of the solution."
Ugh. I don't like the word victim. I don't think of myself as a victim, and I don't want anyone to see me as one either. I think this is a barrier of my own creation in talking about ways I've experienced oppression, like sexism. It doesn't happen very often, and I prefer to brush it off when someone gives me a "...for a girl" compliment, or implies some sort of weakness or incompetence or dismisses me for my gender. Except...I don't always really brush it off. I remember. I question. I ruminate over intentionality. Often, I wonder if I've interpreted the situation correctly. The weird thing is that almost always I'll call anyone else out for making a comment or behaving in a way that I think is sexist or discriminatory toward another, but my compass pointing to what's right doesn't always apply to myself. To this day, I sometimes think about a situation in business school where I was on the receiving end of implicit "boys club" behavior during a group project, and I still wonder what that was about and if my perception of their behavior was correct.
Looking beyond personal philosophy is a big one. I'm not a religious person, but my spiritual beliefs are very important to me. Over the past several years, I've grown to know myself better and live in accordance with who I am. I'm committed to having my actions and life choices reflect my understanding of inner truth. Yet...in thinking about the structure of our society and institutional oppression, I realize that even my spiritual belief system is shaped by my privilege. Well, that's not entirely true. At the core, I think my spiritual foundation is, well, pure, but aspects of my outward expression of my spiritual beliefs and how they shape my life philosophy are filtered through a very, um, white lens. Ultimately, to a yet undetermined extent, I think I'm able to have this belief system and live in alignment with it at least partially due to external circumstances. That's a scary thought, and this realization has brought up many questions. Talk about resistance. I'm learning that I have to move beyond just simple personal philosophy to make a difference in issues of social justice.
And, I feel like I'm explaining this poorly, so I'm not sure I'm making sense. I hope I can find a better way to clarify these thoughts. Argh.
"Commitment to activism for social justice, motivated by the search for meaning, is, however, unlikely to be free from ambivalence. Rather, doubts and dilemmas may continue along with, and in spite, of commitment."
It would be lovely if once you make a commitment to social justice all the complexities would fall away and the right thing to do would immediately become crystal clear. It doesn't, not by a long shot. But, I'm learning that you continue on anyway. You do your best. You and others hold you accountable. You'll make mistakes. You'll question and doubt. You won't always know the right thing to do.
My wonderful friend R. is years younger than me, and he's incredibly wise. I love talking with him about social justice issues. He has a wide variety of personal and professional experiences. He's a person of color who identifies as queer, and his work in school and now professionally addresses social justice. When we get together, he listens to me air my frustrations about world. He listens to my hopes. He listens to my doubts and fears. He shares his perspective. He corrects me when I'm wrong. And, when I question what the point of it all is anyway, he tells me that at the end of the day, at the end of my life, I'll know that I tried to make a difference. A small difference is better than no difference. And then he tells me to keep a sense of humor, because you can't survive without a sense of humor in this field.
"Participation in social justice movements does involve risks of being isolated and of being perceived and treated as unrealistic, utopian, and even un-American."
I'm very familiar with this one. I'm passionate about my views, and I express them to people in my world. I've been called unrealistic, a wishful thinker. I've been told, "if you don't like it how it is here in America, why don't you go live somewhere else?" I've been told that racism no longer exists, and, many years ago, I was once a person who said that. I've been told that people living in poverty have only themselves to blame. I've had people look at me suspiciously when I talk about the problems I see with capitalism and globalization. I've been told that with enough hard work anyone can succeed. I've been called overly sensitive. I've been snidely called a "bleeding heart," as if that's a terrible thing to be. That one really irks me. Funny, I always thought that caring about people's well being, wanting equal rights and access to education, health care, and opportunities for all, advocating for peace, voting for policies to correct unfair tax structures (WA State has THE most regressive tax structure in the U.S., by the way), and generally hoping for a greater sense of community and solidarity among humanity was called being a decent human being.
I was called all of these things before becoming a student in social work. I think I'm going to have to become ok with that fact that working toward social justice, and being vocal in challenging the mainstream norms, is going to be uncomfortable sometimes.
"Moreover, they (social workers and social justice advocates) need to realize that their goals may not be attainable during their lifetime, as there are no assured outcomes in struggles against oppression."
What can I say? This is true. I know it. You know it. For some reason, though, I felt strangely comforted reading that. Like, seeing that written on paper means it's ok to accept the possibility and continue the work anyway.
****************
This post, along with the others, is a work in progress. I hope to add more and update it as my thoughts continue to take shape.
Article source for quotes: Gil, D. (1998). The intellectual paradox of social work. In Confronting injustice and oppression (p.129-134).
This is another attempt to continue my process of articulating what I've learned about social justice in my first quarter in the MSW program, and how I see applying this knowledge in my life and work. I have to say that I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable, because there are things I should talk about, and want to explore to some extent, but I feel resistance. Basically, it comes down to fear of judgment or of being misunderstood. I'm passionate about my beliefs, and I realize they are uniquely my own. For the most part I'm confident in them, but sometimes I have the irrational fear that someone is waiting in the wings to tell me I'm wrong or silly or stupid. But, for the sake of honesty and fully embracing this project, I think it's important to address my fears, goals, and own internalized oppression to fully integrate my experiences and goals of social justice.
In my final readings for another class, we were assigned the epilogue of David Gil's Confronting Injustice and Oppression: Concepts and Strategies for Social Workers. I found that this short reading hit home on so many things I've been thinking and feeling throughout the quarter, so I'm going to use quotes from this work in directing my discussion here. I'll properly cite the reading at the end of the post. :-)
Operating with an agenda of social justice...
"It means therefore exchanging the 'bliss of ignorance' for the burden of holistic social knowledge along with difficult new choices, conflicts, and fears."
Yes. In another paper I wrote for my social justice class, I relayed that confronting issues of social justice brings to mind a scene from the movie The Matrix. When I'm feeling frustrated or down or overwhelmed by social injustice, I think, "Someone hand me the blue pill so I can plug back into the matrix and forget about this whole thing!"
The problem is there's no going back. Once you know something in the depths of your being, you can't un-know it. Sayonara, blue pill. So, what does that look like for the future? I don't know for sure yet. Right now, I find myself thinking about systematic structures of oppression, racism, homelessness, poverty, cultural competence, and environmental injustice pretty much all the time. I'm the life of any party right now, let me tell you. I notice more now in my day to day activities. Honestly, it's exhausting. But, a significant number of people have to live these things every day, and I know that thinking about it is nothing in comparison.
"In unjust and oppressive societies nearly everyone is a victim, as well as an agent and beneficiary of domination and exploitation, depending on one's position and roles in hierarchically organized, competitive institutions. In other words, nearly all people are now part of the problem, regardless of personal philosophy, and would have to change their ways of life to become part of the solution."
Ugh. I don't like the word victim. I don't think of myself as a victim, and I don't want anyone to see me as one either. I think this is a barrier of my own creation in talking about ways I've experienced oppression, like sexism. It doesn't happen very often, and I prefer to brush it off when someone gives me a "...for a girl" compliment, or implies some sort of weakness or incompetence or dismisses me for my gender. Except...I don't always really brush it off. I remember. I question. I ruminate over intentionality. Often, I wonder if I've interpreted the situation correctly. The weird thing is that almost always I'll call anyone else out for making a comment or behaving in a way that I think is sexist or discriminatory toward another, but my compass pointing to what's right doesn't always apply to myself. To this day, I sometimes think about a situation in business school where I was on the receiving end of implicit "boys club" behavior during a group project, and I still wonder what that was about and if my perception of their behavior was correct.
Looking beyond personal philosophy is a big one. I'm not a religious person, but my spiritual beliefs are very important to me. Over the past several years, I've grown to know myself better and live in accordance with who I am. I'm committed to having my actions and life choices reflect my understanding of inner truth. Yet...in thinking about the structure of our society and institutional oppression, I realize that even my spiritual belief system is shaped by my privilege. Well, that's not entirely true. At the core, I think my spiritual foundation is, well, pure, but aspects of my outward expression of my spiritual beliefs and how they shape my life philosophy are filtered through a very, um, white lens. Ultimately, to a yet undetermined extent, I think I'm able to have this belief system and live in alignment with it at least partially due to external circumstances. That's a scary thought, and this realization has brought up many questions. Talk about resistance. I'm learning that I have to move beyond just simple personal philosophy to make a difference in issues of social justice.
And, I feel like I'm explaining this poorly, so I'm not sure I'm making sense. I hope I can find a better way to clarify these thoughts. Argh.
"Commitment to activism for social justice, motivated by the search for meaning, is, however, unlikely to be free from ambivalence. Rather, doubts and dilemmas may continue along with, and in spite, of commitment."
It would be lovely if once you make a commitment to social justice all the complexities would fall away and the right thing to do would immediately become crystal clear. It doesn't, not by a long shot. But, I'm learning that you continue on anyway. You do your best. You and others hold you accountable. You'll make mistakes. You'll question and doubt. You won't always know the right thing to do.
My wonderful friend R. is years younger than me, and he's incredibly wise. I love talking with him about social justice issues. He has a wide variety of personal and professional experiences. He's a person of color who identifies as queer, and his work in school and now professionally addresses social justice. When we get together, he listens to me air my frustrations about world. He listens to my hopes. He listens to my doubts and fears. He shares his perspective. He corrects me when I'm wrong. And, when I question what the point of it all is anyway, he tells me that at the end of the day, at the end of my life, I'll know that I tried to make a difference. A small difference is better than no difference. And then he tells me to keep a sense of humor, because you can't survive without a sense of humor in this field.
"Participation in social justice movements does involve risks of being isolated and of being perceived and treated as unrealistic, utopian, and even un-American."
I'm very familiar with this one. I'm passionate about my views, and I express them to people in my world. I've been called unrealistic, a wishful thinker. I've been told, "if you don't like it how it is here in America, why don't you go live somewhere else?" I've been told that racism no longer exists, and, many years ago, I was once a person who said that. I've been told that people living in poverty have only themselves to blame. I've had people look at me suspiciously when I talk about the problems I see with capitalism and globalization. I've been told that with enough hard work anyone can succeed. I've been called overly sensitive. I've been snidely called a "bleeding heart," as if that's a terrible thing to be. That one really irks me. Funny, I always thought that caring about people's well being, wanting equal rights and access to education, health care, and opportunities for all, advocating for peace, voting for policies to correct unfair tax structures (WA State has THE most regressive tax structure in the U.S., by the way), and generally hoping for a greater sense of community and solidarity among humanity was called being a decent human being.
I was called all of these things before becoming a student in social work. I think I'm going to have to become ok with that fact that working toward social justice, and being vocal in challenging the mainstream norms, is going to be uncomfortable sometimes.
"Moreover, they (social workers and social justice advocates) need to realize that their goals may not be attainable during their lifetime, as there are no assured outcomes in struggles against oppression."
What can I say? This is true. I know it. You know it. For some reason, though, I felt strangely comforted reading that. Like, seeing that written on paper means it's ok to accept the possibility and continue the work anyway.
****************
This post, along with the others, is a work in progress. I hope to add more and update it as my thoughts continue to take shape.
Article source for quotes: Gil, D. (1998). The intellectual paradox of social work. In Confronting injustice and oppression (p.129-134).
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