Generational Suitcases

Today at church we celebrated All Saints Day. If you didn't grow up in a liturgical tradition, this is a day dedicated to remembering saints from ancient times, modern saints and personal saints (people in your life you've lost and miss). This is subjective in the sense that unless you're Catholic, sainthood is arbitrated at will, at least in our church. To give you an example, the apostles, Trayvon Martin and Glennon Doyle (don't worry, she's still alive) were all mentioned in my church this morning. 

I say this because the music chosen gave me a Little Women vibe (hymns that make me think of generations past) and resonated in a deeper way than usual for me because my parents were just here visiting. We talked about generational change while they were here, our family's history and current events, as we often do. And while I enjoyed my exchanges with my Republican dad filled with questions and curiosity, I was struck again by how in large part, my parents generation and their parents generation, have not often gone to personal therapy. My parents are older than most because I am their youngest, but my friends whose parents are closer to them in age say the same thing. I can only think of two friends of an older generation than me who've undergone personal therapy. 

I don't say this to criticize necessarily, but it came upon me in church this morning, this idea of legacy trauma.

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America - Trends in Victim Blaming and a Lack of Impulse Control

I can't help but feel in that light of recent events, we have a problem in this country with victim-blaming. I know this isn't a new thing to highlight and yet, as a woman who is at greater risk for sexual assault, I have found comments related to police brutality and what the victims could have done to prevent their murders to be quite triggering. Rather than saying, we need to deal with our issues of impulse control and a propensity towards violence (which is a critical piece to both police brutality and sexual assault), we want to run a post-mortem or post-attack rap sheet on victims, further victimizing already targeted groups. Frankly, what the victim is wearing, whether or not they have a criminal record is no indication of their worthiness of being violated. They are not worthy of being violated. There is no such thing as being worthy of victimization. That's the whole point. They were preyed upon and the responsibility for such immoral activity must rest in the hands of the person who performed such atrocities. 
We want to believe we live in a world where good behavior increases our likelihood for safety. While I'm sure being respectful to police officers in specific situations may have been helpful, insinuating that respectful words and tones will keep people from being brutalized inevitably blames the victim for their own death. And frankly, it's fundamentally untrue that this will keep black people safe. As if it isn't difficult enough to reconcile the wrongful death, we have to heap responsibility on the victims and their families shoulders. It's wrong. Frankly, a lot of wrongful deaths in police interactions occur before the victim is even able to provide identification, thereby making all information about them after the fact completely irrelevant.
Why can't we just say, people with privilege (cops in these brutality cases, rapists in cases of assault) need to gain better control of their fear and need to dominate another person? This even goes back to my philosophy about parenting. I have more privilege than my children. Therefore, I must be the bigger person. If my children are violent towards me, that does not excuse me to be violent towards them. I must stay calm. I must de-escalate. I am capable of maintaining control without asserting domination. How can we expect our constituents to respect police authority when the policemen victimize their communities? Privilege needs greater accountability. If we begin to respect those with less privilege, then fair treatment will result. As fair treatment becomes consistent, attitudes will shift over time. If the police have lost respect, then they need to work to gain it back. It's easier to accept discipline from a safe person than from someone who might shoot you for obeying their orders. This is easy for me to see as a white person who has never been scared of the police. 
We have this weird idea in our culture that "real men don't back down." Our police force can't safely de-escalate because we believe the authoritative response to force is greater force. We want to be bigger, more powerful, further weaponized (hello bomb-robots!) in order to protect ourselves from each other. We need to look within and recognize that the "other" isn't the problem. The problem is our gaping need for security. This need for personal security is relegating communal security as a secondary priority. And when push comes to shove (literally), we choose self-preservation every time. I understand that this is a human instinct. It's part of how we've survived each other this long. And yet, I want to believe that we can learn to prioritize the group over self. Our culture is so individualized that we do not know how to deal with our connection to each other. So many of us feel brutalized over the week's events (I know I can't speak into this really as a non-member of the black community). Why? Because we are connected. Deep down, we want peace. We want to find a way to make the community safe without having to die in the process. We've got our work cut out for us, for sure. I think we should start with sitting in our fears, taking responsibility for our impulses and refusing to blame victims for their deaths.