What does “practicing solidarity” mean to you?
On Monday Marie will facilitate. She shares:
Dear Thay, dear friends,
As you may have seen in an earlier email, we will explore the theme, practicing solidarity, throughout the month of May. We will “second body” Nueva Vida, the same organization that we worked with last year. Our hope is that by practicing solidarity with Nueva Vida as individuals and as a community, and by learning about how our practice affects us, we can nourish ourselves, each other and the larger society of which we’re a part.
On Monday, we will look at our own experiences of being in and out of solidarity. While I’d like to believe that I’ve “graduated” from one to the other, deep within, I know that it isn’t so easy...
“Back in the 1970s, a series of protests in Australia raised white people’s awareness about racism, colonialism, and their impact on the lives of Aboriginal people. Many white Australians came to the emerging Aboriginal and Islander organisations asking “How can I help? What do Aboriginal people want?””
“Many Aboriginal activists felt frustrated by these questions. They could not, and would not tell white people what to do. They saw reflections of persisting colonial perceptions and attitudes in their offers of help. They needed help to liberate themselves from these: and so the challenge:” This was the context for what became an inspirational (and aspirational) quote:
“If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. If you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.” Lila Watson, Aboriginal Elder, Educator & Activist
For me, Lila Watson’s quote is a bell of mindfulness: it wakes me up. As a privileged, white woman who spent 25 years working on international development, mostly in Sub-Saharan Africa, I was all too intimate with the “White Savior Complex”, whether my own or that of the people and institutions around me. And, I could feel - and see - the difference it made when I worked in solidarity with Ugandans, with Tanzanians, with Zambians…
Fast forward to today, surrounded by plenty amidst a pandemic that has caused untold suffering and wanting to help by practicing solidarity. What exactly does this mean?
Doshin Nathan Woods provides a powerful description in The Path to Solidarity (with thanks to Adriana for sharing this article): through accompaniment. “Accompaniment as a form of solidarity involves siding with the poor, oppressed, and marginalized and accompanying them on their journey, giving what we can and being willing to receive what is given in return in the way of education, training, and conviviality. Buddhists may recognize this as the interrelationship of karuna and dana. In order to embody the universal compassion of the bodhisattva, we train in the perfection of generosity, where karuna, as an embodied capacity to suffer with others, manifests as giving. In the Pali literature, dana is presented as an individual expression of compassion for a shared good. It is a practical manifestation of communal solidarity.
Compassion in Buddhism is also talked about as anukampa, which is sometimes translated literally as a “crying out at the crying out of another.” It is a movement of the heart—often described as a trembling—to act on the behalf of others. Seen in this light, dana defines giving not simply as a contractual exchange but as a spiritual practice where the proper enjoyment and utilization of wealth embodies selflessness and embraces human dignity. It also supports caga, or a generous attitude, loosening one’s grip on possessions and self-benefit.
Solidarity as dana involves sharing our ideas, labor, and time, as well as monetary contributions and creative endeavors. Like accompaniment, it reaches across perceived differences to define new ways of belonging.
The first step is to see through our conventional limitations and stand against injustice by listening to the voice of the other crying out. By letting go of who we imagine ourselves to be and cultivating a non-clinging heart, we can learn to accompany each other in an embodied way and live in community—and in dignity—with those with whom we suffer.
The above description resonates with me on multiple levels, and I wonder what it brings up in you?
Please join us on Monday night, when we will share our experiences of being in, and out, of solidarity. Here are some questions you might reflect on beforehand:
To what extent do you notice when you and/or others are in/out of solidarity?
What has been your experience with practicing solidarity?
What helps you to be in solidarity, and what causes you to feel separate?
I look forward to being with you on Monday.
With a deep bow,
Marie
PS If you’re curious about solidarity and development in Sub-Saharan Africa, check out No White Saviors, a Ugandan advocacy group that is deeply committed to seeing things change in a more equitable and anti-racist direction.