Читать книгу My Grandmother's Hands - Resmaa Menakem - Страница 16
Оглавление“Once you start approaching your body with curiosity rather than with fear, everything shifts.”
BESSEL VAN DER KOLK
As we’ve seen, white-body supremacy, and the trauma that causes and perpetuates it, lives primarily in the body, not the thinking brain. Now let’s look at how white-body supremacy causes white, Black, and police bodies to view each other.
The white body sees itself as fragile and vulnerable, and it looks to police bodies for its protection and safety. Its view of the Black body is more complex and deeply paradoxical. It sees Black bodies as dangerously impervious to pain11 and needing to be controlled. Yet it also sees them as potential sources of service and comfort.
For most of our country’s history, the Black body was forced to serve white bodies. It was seen as a tool, to be purchased from slave traders; stacked on shelves in the bellies of slave ships; purchased at auction; made to plant, weed, and harvest crops; pressed into service in support of white families’ comfort; and used to build a massive agricultural economy.
This arrangement was systematically maintained through murder, rape, mutilation, and other forms of trauma, as well as through institutions, laws, regulations, norms, and beliefs.
It is only relatively recently that most Black Americans have had some dominion over their own bodies. The white body often feels uncomfortable with this Black self-management and self-agency.
The Black body sees the white body as privileged, controlling, and dangerous. It is deeply conflicted about the police body, which it sometimes sees as a source of protection, sometimes as a source of danger, and sometimes as both at once. When police bodies congregate in large numbers, however, the Black body is not conflicted: it sees police bodies as an occupying force.
The police body senses that all bodies need its protection. However, it sees Black bodies as often dangerous and disruptive, as well as superhumanly powerful and impervious to pain. It feels charged with controlling and subduing Black bodies by any means necessary—including extreme force.
None of this is rational, and much of it is not even conscious. A great deal of it is outright false, rooted in racialized myth. Some of it directly contradicts what we consciously believe, as well as much of our actual experience. But our bodies don’t care about logic, truth, or cognitive experience. They care about safety and survival. They care about responding to a perceived threat, even when that threat is not real. As a result, our bodies scare the hell out of each other.
There’s a way out of this mess, and it requires each of us to begin with our own body. You and your body are important parts of the solution. You will not just read this book; you will experience it in your body. Your body—all of our bodies—are where changing the status quo must begin.
When I begin working with new clients, one of the first things I do—before we start talking about any issues, family histories, or emotions—is help them ground themselves and orient themselves to the here and now. I work with them to slowly feel their way back into their bodies, and then to remember and reclaim them.
As you go through this book, you will remember and reclaim your own body as well. We’ll start with a set of activities that will help you learn to ground yourself and feel into your body—to notice when it is open, when it is constricted, and what causes it to open or constrict, activate or settle.
A few words of guidance before we begin: When (or immediately after) you do any of the activities in this book, it’s possible your body may have an unusual reaction. You might start shaking or tingling; you might laugh or cry, or burp or fart, or feel hot or cold. You may feel an impulse to move part of your body in a particular way. An image or thought might suddenly arise in your mind. An unexpected emotion might bubble up. All of these responses are normal. They don’t mean you’re weird or crazy. They may simply mean you have touched and released some energy that was stuck in your body. This is not only experientially healthy, but good for your body.
In the unlikely event your body reacts in some extreme way, stop the activity immediately. Take a few slow, deep breaths to help your body settle; then go on with the rest of your day. If that doesn’t help, and your body has an over-the-top reaction that is too strong to handle, seek out a trauma therapist who can help you move through the stuckness. (Again, this is extremely unlikely. Most of the time, your body won’t have any unusual reaction at all.)
—BODY PRACTICE—
Find a quiet, private spot. Plan to spend three to four minutes there, alone.
Sit comfortably. Take a few breaths.
Turn your head and slowly look around in all directions, especially behind you. Orient yourself in the surrounding space. If you’re indoors, notice the height of the ceiling, the height and color of each wall, any doors or windows, and any other details that stand out. If you are outside, take note of any boundaries, such as a footpath, a fence, the edge of a clearing, or the shore of a pond. Notice any plant or animal life nearby. Note what sounds you hear, any smells that fill the air, any warmth or coolness, and any colors that stand out.
When you are done scanning your environment, face forward once again and return your attention to your body. Sense how your feet rest on the ground and how your butt rests on the seat.
Now notice any other sensations in your body: the bend in your knees; your spine, straight or curved; a breeze in your hair; your belly and any tension you hold there; and your chest, expanding and shrinking with each breath.
Notice what your body experiences inside your clothing. Pay attention to where your body touches your underwear, your socks or stockings, your shirt or blouse, your pants or skirt or dress.
Starting at the top of your head, bring your attention slowly down through your body. Notice each sensation as your attention passes through it: warmth, coolness, relaxation, tightness, softness, pressure, energy, numbness.
Don’t skip or skim the healing and grounding exercises in this book—the ones with activities that help you remember your body or perform an action. When you reach each one, stop. Take a few slow breaths. Then, as you read that section, practice that activity in your body. If you’re not in a situation where this is possible, put the book down temporarily. Pick it up again when you have the opportunity to practice the activity.
I provide these body activities throughout this book. A few involve simply stopping and noticing. Most involve doing something more—sensing, imagining, moving, or activating your body in some other way.
If you’ve already skipped the previous activity, stop. Go back and complete it before reading further. Don’t keep reading and promise yourself you’ll do the activity later. That’s not how this book works. Before you read further, you need to experience the activity with your body.
Once you’ve completed that brief activity, continue with the one that follows.
—BODY PRACTICE—
Sit quietly and comfortably for a minute or two, breathing normally. Notice your breath as it enters your nose, your windpipe, your lungs. For thirty seconds, simply follow it as it goes in and out of your body.
Then bring your attention to the bottom of your feet. Sense the ground beneath them, supporting you. Stay focused here for a few breaths.
Move your attention to your back, to the sensation of it pressing lightly against the chair. Feel the chair supporting you, doing what it was designed to do.
Now think of a person or a pet or a place that makes you feel safe and secure. Imagine you’re with that person or pet, or in that safe place. Let yourself experience that safety and security for a few seconds.
Now check in with your body. Start with your shoulders. How do they feel? Relaxed or constricted? Closed or open?
What about your neck? Your jaw? Your major joints—your ankles, knees, hips, wrists, elbows, and shoulders? Your back? Your sphincter? Your toes?
Stay with the experience for a couple of breaths. Notice if anything arises or changes, such as a vibration, a sensation, an image, an emotion, an impulse, or a meaning.
Now imagine the comforting person, pet, or place is gone. Instead, there’s an angry stranger standing in front of you. The stranger’s arms are crossed and he or she is glaring at you silently.
You look into the stranger’s eyes, hoping his or her expression will soften, but it remains unchanged.
Check in with your body again. How do your shoulders feel? Your neck? Your jaw? Your back? Your sphincter? Your toes?
Gently, one by one, feel into all the places in your body where you sense constriction. Let your attention rest briefly in each one.
Now send the angry stranger away. Bring back the comforting person, place, or pet. For several breaths, relax in the safety this presence provides.
Now, gently, move your attention through your body, from your head to your toes, one more time. Feel into each spot where you sense softness. Stay with each of these for one to two seconds.
In a day or two, or as soon after that as you can, practice the following:
—BODY PRACTICE—
Find a quiet, comfortable place where you can be alone for a few minutes. Bring with you a piece of string (or rope or yarn) at least ten to twelve feet long.
Stand in an open area. Take a few deep, slow breaths.
Using the string, create a circle on the ground. Adjust its size so that when you stand in its center and you imagine someone else standing on the circle’s edge, you are a comfortable distance from them.
Once the circle is the right size, take your place at its center. Breathe in and out a few more times.
Think of someone you know who is caring and supportive. This can be a friend, a relative, a neighbor, a partner, or a friendly acquaintance. Visualize this person walking slowly in your direction toward the circle.
As he or she crosses the circle’s edge, pay attention to what your body experiences. Does it relax or constrict? Does it want to move forward or backward? Does it want to reach out, or protect itself, or move in some other way?
Now clear your mind. Take three or four more slow breaths.
Now visualize someone else you know, someone who is not particularly caring and supportive. This shouldn’t be someone who is outright violent or dangerous, who has threatened you, or who is your sworn enemy. Instead, it might be a boss or coworker with whom you have some friction, or a slightly standoffish neighbor, or perhaps a relative who disagrees with you on several political or social issues.
Visualize this person walking slowly in your direction toward the circle. As he or she crosses the circle’s edge, again pay attention to what your body experiences. Does it relax or constrict? Does it want to move forward or backward? Does it want to reach out, or protect itself, or move in some other way?
Notice what images, sensations, emotions, impulses, and thoughts arise in you. Don’t do anything about those images—simply take note of them.
As part of your healing from the trauma of white-body supremacy, you’ll learn to tell when your body is open and when it is constricted; when it is settled and when it is activated; and where and when it is in pain or discomfort. This will take some practice, and you’ll have plenty of opportunities to practice in the chapters to come.
In Chapters Ten, Eleven, and Twelve, you’ll learn a wide range of ways to settle your body, especially when you’re under stress or duress. These skills will prove essential to healing and to creating more room for growth in your nervous system. They will also help you stay in your body, rather than fight, flee, or freeze and go numb when you experience discomfort or pain.
Being able to settle into your body is a crucial skill. But settling your body is not the best response in every situation. There will be times when you need to activate your body and act constructively. In fact, when settling is a reflexive response rather than a mindful one, it can be a form of avoiding or overriding an opportunity to serve or heal.
Some people can become extremely—almost scarily—calm and low key under stress. Instead of settling their body in order to tolerate discomfort and fully engage in the situation, they use their body-settling skills to disengage and disassociate. We’ve all seen some white Americans and police do this, particularly in discussions about race. (We’ve also all watched some African Americans do this.)
The keys to healing are staying with your body; discerning what you need to do next; and then settling or mobilizing your body, based on the situation. Of course, learning to stay with your body is just the first step. Unraveling racialized trauma takes time, practice, and attention. You may need to ask for help from one, or more, caring person—perhaps a friend, therapist, or other counselor.12 Or you may not. As you practice the activities in Part III with others, you may discover you are naturally helping each other heal.
—BODY PRACTICE—
Find a quiet, private, comfortable place. Sit down. Put one hand on your knee or in your lap. Place the other on your belly.
Now hum. Not from your throat or chest, but from the bottom of your belly.
Hum strong and steady. Push the air out of your belly firmly, not gently.
Stop to breathe in, but return to the hum with each new breath.
Experience the hum in your belly. Then sense it in the rest of your body.
Continue humming for two minutes.
When you’re done, reach your arms upward. Then, slowly and gently, feel your body with your hands, starting from the top of your head. Move slowly down your neck and along your chest, then below your waist, then past your knees, until your arms are fully extended downward. What do you notice?
In the chapters to come, you’ll return to your body over and over. With practice, you’ll get better and better at noticing its many signals—some of them strong, others subtle.
You’ll also learn more about the Black body, the white body, and the police body. You’ll briefly explore the history of each one and understand how each one got to be the way it is today.
In addition, in at least one of these histories, you’ll likely recognize your body and the racialized trauma it holds deep inside.
RE-MEMBERINGS
• Whether or not white-body supremacy is formally and explicitly taught to us, it’s in the air we breathe, the culture we share, and the bodies we inhabit.
• Because of white-body supremacy, here is how white, Black, and police bodies see each other:
The white body sees itself as fragile and vulnerable, and it looks to police bodies for safety and protection. It sees Black bodies as dangerous and needing to be controlled, yet also as potential sources of service and comfort.
The Black body sees the white body as privileged, controlling, and dangerous. It is conflicted about the police body, which it sees as sometimes a source of protection, sometimes a source of danger, and sometimes both at once.
The police body sees Black bodies as often dangerous and disruptive, as well as superhumanly powerful and impervious to pain.
• There is a way out of all this. It begins with your body.
• You will not just read this book. You will experience it in your body—the only place where the mending of racialized (or any) trauma can happen.
11 Dr. David Rosenbloom, Professor of Health Policy and Management at Boston University’s School of Public Health, sums it up succinctly: “Blacks have been undertreated for pain for decades.” A 2016 study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (113, no. 16, 4296–4301) by psychologist Kelly M. Hoffman, et al. at the University of Virginia found that 58 percent of laypeople, 40 percent of first-year medical students, and 42 percent of second-year medical students believed that Black skin is literally thicker than white skin. (It isn’t, of course. It is true that any human being can grow calluses—thicker skin—on an area of their body that is repeatedly irritated or abused. But this is a result of the irritation or abuse, not the person’s skin color.) In addition, 20 percent of laypeople, 8 percent of first-year medical students, and 14 percent of second-year medical students believed that Black people have less sensitive nerve endings than white people. Respondents also believed that Black bodies have stronger immune systems than white bodies, and that Black people’s blood coagulates more quickly. The study involved 222 white medical students and ninety-two white laypeople. For more on this, see David Love’s “Study: White Medical Students Hold Outrageous Theories about Black Biology, Explaining Why Black Patients Are Under-Treated for Pain” (Atlanta Black Star, April 5, 2016).
12 For ideas about some of the people who can help, see “Five Opportunities for Healing and Making Room for Growth” at the end of this book.
