The Boston Marathon Bombing Cannot Change the Reality that Goodness Trumps Evil

Young women consoling each other

Image courtesy Brit/Flickr.

It’s easy to feel despair in the wake of evil.

I read a post on Facebook after the Boston Marathon bombing from a person who wondered if she wanted to keep living after such a senseless, cruel, horrible act of violence. I sympathized. How do we cope with such insanity? How do we hold on to our belief in goodness?

Over the many hours that followed the bombings, practically all I read – on Facebook, through Twitter, and in the news – were outpourings of support and love and care for the victims and their families, and for the city of Boston itself. I read nothing that was cruel or heartless; nothing that supported the bombings; nothing that reveled in suffering.

No, millions of people are expressing love and compassion.

There is darkness in the world. There is cruelty and meanness and wanton violence and political violence. But they are ultimately small acts in the face of massive goodness – awful as they are when they happen. History shows a consistent and relentless shift toward greater democracy, greater understanding and tolerance, greater acceptance. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” and he was right.

Don’t we see this everywhere: Women voting and going to school; civil rights spreading across the globe; gays and lesbians receiving equal rights in many countries and states; animals receiving protections (albeit still far too limited) unheard of in previous centuries; global outcry against injustice, against exploitation, against environmental destruction?

Are our violent tendencies gone? Of course not. But we are not cheering at the Coliseum as slaves entertain thousands in fights to the death. Instead, we are crying by the millions as our fellow citizens are injured and killed by bombs detonated at a hallmark of our physical achievement: the Boston Marathon.

Let’s remember this: For every person who is evil, there are countless people who are deeply kind. For every murderer, there are people coming to the aid of strangers in droves. For every act of senseless violence, there are thousands of acts of meaningful goodness.

There is a way to speed the arc of the moral universe toward justice. It is through humane education: education of the mind so that we understand each other across borders and cultural boundaries; education of the heart so that we care enough to build a world of kindness toward all people, all species, and the earth itself; education of the hands so that we have the skills and the tools to solve our still very significant challenges, with our wisdom and compassion as our guides.

Let’s commit to this then, to humane education. Let’s make such acts as the bombing at the Boston Marathon, as the abuse of a child, the rape of a woman, the cruelty toward an animal the story of history.

~ Zoe

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm; Above All, Be Kind; and The Power and Promise of Humane Education
My TEDxDirigo talk: “The World Becomes What You Teach
My TEDxConejo talk: “Solutionaries”
My TEDxYouth@CEHS “How to Be a Solutionary”

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4 Ways to Overcome Despair

Image courtesy of MervC/Flickr.

For my blog post today, I’m sharing a recent essay I wrote for Care2.com, an online community for people passionate about creating a better world. Here’s an excerpt from “4 Ways to Overcome Despair”:

“I don’t know many activists or changemakers who don’t sometimes feel sad. The more we expose ourselves to exploitation and cruelty toward people and animals; the more we learn about climate change and the rapid extinction of species; the more we see corruption in politics and greed in business, the greater the likelihood that despair will creep in.

Some turn their despair outward into rage, which can too often damage relationships, turn off potential allies, promote polarization, and thereby prevent solutions. Some find that despair leads to depression, undermining action, which can turn into a positive feedback loop: more despair leading to more depression leading to less action leading to more despair.

To face and overcome the periodic despair I feel, I have found four things that work well for me.”

Read the complete essay.

~ Zoe

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm; Above All, Be Kind; and The Power and Promise of Humane Education
My TEDxDirigo talk: “The World Becomes What You Teach
My TEDxConejo talk: “Solutionaries”
My TEDxYouth@CEHS “How to Be a Solutionary”

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To Bear Reality, We Must Cultivate Joy, Connection, Compassion

I’m traveling a lot this month, so please enjoy this repost from 11/24/08.

T.S. Eliot once wrote, “Humankind cannot bear much reality.” In today’s world, threatened as it is by global climate change, human overpopulation, massive extinctions, fresh water depletion, toxic waste, and replete with escalating worldwide slavery, brutal institutionalized animal cruelty, human starvation and many more problems, it’s no wonder we can’t bear much reality.

In our graduate programs at the Institute for Humane Education, we know students struggle with the content of their courses (on education, human rights, environmental preservation, animal protection, and cultural issues such as consumerism, social psychology, media, and globalization). Although every course has books and articles with practical and wise solutions to our problems, each also exposes our students to the challenging realities of our time. After all, we cannot solve our entrenched problems and transform unhealthy systems if we don’t know about and understand them.

Many of our students struggle with the dark content of some of the books and films in the program because, indeed, it is hard to bear that much reality. But there is another reality that our program explores: that of our human capacity to experience wonder, joy, connection, compassion, and understanding. Our students are required to spend time in a natural setting, participate in activities that reawaken their reverence, meet and connect with people from other cultures, listening to their stories and building relationships. Each student also does a practicum, not only to put their knowledge and training into practice, but also to experience the joy that comes in doing the work of humane education.

Yes, we cannot bear much painful reality, and so we must cultivate the joyful reality that is our inheritance so that we can hold the joy and pain together and rely upon our experience of profound connection and empathy to face and transform those systems which harm. If we expect to change the world through doomsday stories, we will find that many turn away, unable to bear that much reality. But if we inspire people to fall in love with this gorgeous planet, revel in their senses and ability to feel awe, turn their apathy into compassion, and hear the stories of the heroes among us, then we will discover that our reality is huge: full of light, dark, and everything in between, and we can bear it all in our hearts and minds in order to create a better world.

~ Zoe

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind, and The Power and Promise of Humane Education
My TEDxConejo talk: “Solutionaries”
My TEDxDirigo talk: “The World Becomes What You Teach
My TEDxYouth@BFS “Educating for Freedom”

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The Hope That Lies at the Root of Humane Education

For my blog post today, I’m sharing a recent post I wrote for Care2.com, an online community for people passionate about creating a better world. Here’s an excerpt from The Hope That Lies at the Root of Humane Education:

As Joan Baez put it, “Action is the antidote to despair.” So when I feel hopeless, I harness my fading will toward action once again. And when I do, when I teach and watch my students become energized, enlivened, engaged and enthusiastic, my hope returns. I feed the part of myself that is starving for renewed faith, and I feed those students eager (and sometimes even desperate) for meaning, purpose and relevancy in their education. And that is when I know that a humane, healthy and just world is possible: as long as we refuse to give in to despair, but instead work just as tenaciously when hopelessness takes root as we do when we are hopeful.

Read the complete post.

For a humane world,

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind, and The Power and Promise of Humane Education
My TEDx talk: “The World Becomes What You Teach

Image courtesy of DieselDemon via Creative Commons.

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Seven Ducklings and the Peace of Wild Things

This morning as I walked by our pond, I saw a Mallard with her seven newly hatched ducklings. I kept my dogs under control as we walked past the pond while the mother duck quickly gathered the babies to keep them safe from us predators. I was ambivalent about seeing this family of ducks on our pond. I love seeing them, love the fast-swimming, sweet-chirping, fuzzy little ducklings, but I have watched too many be killed at our pond by crows and other wildlife. Ours is not a particularly safe pond for ducklings. Year after year I observe their numbers decline as the days go by. One year, a mother duck lost every single duckling in the space of three days. I wondered about her, whether she was a young mother, inexperienced in protecting her babies, unwise in her choice of ponds. Did she have better luck in succeeding years? How did she cope with her terrible loss?

I often recite this poem, Wendell Berry’s “The Peace of Wild Things,” to soothe myself when life is particularly challenging.

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.
I come into the presence of still water,
and I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light.
For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

The line, “I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief” has been both balm and occasional curative for my worried mind, but today I had to wonder. Does this Mallard mother truly live in the present moment? Is she never taxed by forethought of grief? She is a vigilant mother, always attentive and ready to steer her young to safety. Perhaps she does indeed anticipate the terrors that lurk around her, and worry and fret for her children’s lives, as Wendell Berry does. Perhaps it is only our wishful thinking that there is a way to truly live free of such anxiety and fear.

Still, I try to accept what I cannot change and release unhelpful worry. I try to have faith that whatever comes in life I will have the capacity to endure it and maintain some modicum of equanimity and composure and never lose my integrity or courage. And still, I, like Berry, return again and again to what feels like the peace of wild things, whether or not it is truly peaceful for them. And, like Berry, it is in that grace that I, too, find a taste of freedom.

Zoe Weil
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind, and So, You Love Animals

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I’ve Got Peace Like a River and Tears Like the Raindrops

A couple of weeks ago I attended services at our local Unitarian Universalist Church. I was feeling down that day and hoped for some inspiration and solace. The first hymn we sang was “I’ve Got Peace Like a River.”

These are the lyrics to the first verse:

“I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.”

Not feeling very peaceful, I choked out the words, wishing and hoping for that peace I was singing about.

Next verse:

“I’ve got joy like a fountain, I’ve got joy like a fountain, I’ve got joy like a fountain in my soul.”

Joy was elusive that morning, and I yearned for it. I sang in the hopes that the very act of singing these words would enliven my spirit, but the joy was not coming.

Next verse:

“I’ve got love like an ocean, I’ve got love like an ocean, I’ve got love like an ocean in my soul.”

Now my eyes were filling with tears, because I do have love like an ocean, even if what I was feeling that morning was not love but anger and frustration. I wanted to feel transformed, but at that point I was feeling even more bereft, because even this beautiful hymn could not pull me out of my gloomy mood.

But then the next verse was this:

“I’ve got pain like an arrow, I’ve got pain like an arrow, I’ve got pain like an arrow in my soul.”

Oh, I thought. Now I’m feeling heard. We can be people who experience peace, joy, love and pain. What a relief. I was not alone.

Next verse:

“I’ve got tears like the raindrops, I’ve got tears like the raindrops, I’ve got tears like the raindrops in my soul.”

Yes indeed. And what a metaphor! Good old rain, without which there is no life. Our tears are like rain, necessary, important, valuable, honest, and potentially transformative.

Last verse:

“I’ve got strength like a mountain, I’ve got strength like a mountain, I’ve got strength like a mountain in my soul.”

Full circle. With that strength I knew I might yet embrace those tears and the pain of that morning and allow the love, joy, and even peace begin to wash over me.

I share this personal story because I know that many of my blog readers, struggling to bring peace to this world, face dark nights of the soul along with times of rage, sorrow, and daily challenges, frustrations and anxieties. Life is easy for no one, and for activists and changemakers there can be additional challenges as we expose ourselves to grave problems and desperate situations and profound suffering we hope to change.

If you sometimes find the challenges too hard to bear, I offer this hymn. It helped me that morning, and I hope it helps you, too.

Zoe Weil
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind and The Power and Promise of Humane Education

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My Faith in Humanity Got a Boost Today

This past weekend I watched two disturbing movies: Woody Allen’s Whatever Works and Shutter Island. Whatever Works was not meant to be disturbing, but in typical Woody Allen fashion, the protagonist raises persistent questions about humanity’s cruelty and destructiveness, and for some reason, this particular time, such rants left me less amused and more despondent. Shutter Island is a dark movie about people who have perpetrated the worst imaginable atrocities, with Holocaust visuals to boot. So after a weekend of these two films, I was aching for some renewed hope and faith. As luck would have it (or, more accurately, as lack of luck would result in), I got my wish.

The morning after watching Shutter Island, my husband and I loaded my old car up with our trash and recyclables to bring to the transfer station (aka the dump) on our way to our local mountain to walk our dogs. About a mile past the transfer station my car died. While I was calling for roadside assistance my husband walked to the nearest house to see if he could buy a gallon of gas just in case the reason the car died was because the fuel gauge had broken. Although the man he spoke with had no gas, he offered to drive my husband home (15 miles round trip). Meanwhile, someone I knew passed my car and quickly turned right around to help, followed by another person who did the same thing.

So in a world awash with such horrors as slavery, genocide, rape, torture, and so on, kindness, generosity, and helpfulness still remain the norm, at least in my neighborhood in Maine, and they remind me that most of us are good despite all evidence that we cannot seem to create a truly humane society.

Zoe Weil
Author of Above All, Be Kind and Most Good, Least Harm

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The Dance of Communication

At the Institute for Humane Education we train people to be humane educators who are able to teach about interconnected global issues in ways that promote conscientious choice-making and engaged change-making for a humane, sustainable, and peaceful world. Our students take courses covering Culture, Consumerism and Media; Environmental Preservation; Human Rights, and Animal Protection. They learn about grave threats, pervasive manipulations, and forms of exploitation and cruelty that are shocking. The purpose of all this learning isn’t just to become more aware, but to become a humane educator who creates positive change. Classroom teachers incorporate pressing global issues into their curricula; filmmakers produce educational videos or public access TV shows; writers pen essays, books, and blogs; parents launch programs focused on raising humane children; entrepreneurs put the knowledge to use in new companies and projects that are humane and educate the public.

One of the challenges each faces is to communicate their knowledge in ways that awaken and empower their audiences, and the “dance” comes as each student exposes her or himself to dark and frightening realities and simultaneously seeks to be an inspired and inspiring communicator who elicits enthusiastic participation in ethical choice- and change-making among audiences.

These days, it seems that few are engaging in such “dances,” at least in the U.S. Instead we are witnessing ever greater polarization, hateful and blaming, rather than solution-oriented speech, and more and more either/or scenarios instead of nuanced efforts at creating practical answers to problems and engaging positive acts.

In order to create healthier and more humane systems, such polarization must be abandoned, and for those who are newly exposed to atrocities, this is particularly difficult to do. Learning about the growing trafficking of child sex slaves, the alarming and escalating rate of species extinction, and the horrific cruelty perpetrated on ever more billions of animals in factory farms is hard to handle without succumbing alternately to rage and despair. When rage becomes the vector for sharing this information and seeking change it rarely succeeds, however, and when despair takes hold deeply or inexorably, it often results in apathy instead of action (even though, as Joan Baez wisely said, “Action is the antidote to despair.”).

Thus the humane educator – someone who willingly exposes her or himself to painful knowledge in a committed effort to educate for a better future – must learn a special dance: the dance of communication that awakens people’s compassion, elicits their creativity, and engages them as solutionaries while still educating them about terrible and frightening issues.

It’s a dance that begins as we each self-reflect, explores what motivates and engages us (and, conversely, what turns us off or shuts us down), and from that introspection nurtures a style of communicating that is at once direct and soft, heart-wrenching and empowering, pointed and nuanced.

No easy task for humane educators, or anyone who wants to create a peaceful world.

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Claude and Medea, and Above All, Be Kind

Image courtesy of Haags Uitburo via Creative Commons.

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Despair: The Ultimate Taboo

One of the readers of my Human Overpopulation: The Taboo Topic post sent me an email which launched an interesting exchange about despair. He wondered whether despair was the ultimate taboo topic, especially for activists.

In my years as an activist there has been a profound shift among those who work for change. Instead of indulging our rage against, and even hatred towards, those who exploit, oppress, and destroy, many of us make a spiritual practice of our changemaking efforts, with Gandhian non-violence, Mother Teresa love, and Dalai Lama compassion as guides. We may be angry, but we channel that anger toward action that is positive, healthy, and productive. We may seethe inside, but we practice compassion even toward others who are cruel, until we truly feel the kindness we know it is best to express.

But then there is despair. We work for change, knowing through our own experience that Joan Baez was right, at least much of the time, when she said, “Action is the antidote to despair.” But sometimes, despite our action, we still despair.

But we dare not admit it.

If we admitted that we thought it was hopeless to work tirelessly for change, how would we inspire others to join our efforts? Why would they? If we even admitted it to ourselves, we, too, might stop trying to heal this tattered world. Where would that leave us? With despair and apathy – a soul-destroying combination.

But I believe it’s time to break the despair taboo and see what else might happen when we acknowledge our hopelessness.

I’ll go first.

I sometimes, even often, feel despair.

And then I keep on working. And the reason I do so is because I still have to live with myself, and giving up on my commitment to make a difference and play a role in trying to solve our problems would leave my life bereft of meaning — perhaps even of the capacity for real joy. I suspect I wouldn’t try so hard to be good. And maybe that means I would cause greater harm and suffering, creating a tragic negative feedback loop.

So while I admit to sometimes feeling despair, I refuse to indulge it, because doing so serves nothing and no one. And I imagine that if I did indulge my despair, it could balloon into unremitting depression and hopelessness. If instead I carry on, doing the work I am compelled to do, whether or not it amounts to anything of ultimate value, I keep despair at bay. And I don’t give up on all those who are also striving to make a difference and all those whom our combined efforts do, in fact, affect positively.

Like rage and hatred, despair is a feeling we need to channel, not feed. So if you feel despair, admit it. Express it with those you trust. Then keep on working for a better world despite it.

~ Zoe

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The Humane Educator’s Paradox

It’s painful to learn about the terrible injustices and cruelties in the world. Sometimes, the more we know, the more hopeless we become. Even when we also learn about the great courage, generosity, wisdom, and dedication of countless changemakers, even when we see success in their efforts to create new systems that solve the great challenges of our time, we can still become despondent in the face of persistent exploitation, destruction, and oppression.

The question “How can we choose to know and still maintain hope in the face of ghastly atrocities?” is a seminal one for humane educators and reflects a paradox that is difficult to resolve. We must know in order to create positive change. Knowing leads to what Buddhists call “right action” and Jews call “tikkun olam” (repairing the world), but it can also to lead to rage, depression, fear, and violence, and even, paradoxically, to apathy when we simply cannot absorb or care about so much.

Most of us know angry activists who turn off more people than they turn on, whose actions are counter productive, who fail to model the peace and compassion they seek to create in the world. These people “know” but their “knowing” actually inhibits their successful changemaking.

And most of us also know activists who tirelessly create healthy change while inspiring others. What is the key to their success? How do they both know and radiate kindness, acceptance, patience, and openness? I believe that most such changemakers find a practice that grounds them, as well as outlets for experiencing joy and inner peace. They may spend time in the natural world, or meditate, or read inspiring works, or find strength from their religious beliefs, or gather with friends to laugh and play. They self reflect, they revel in all that is good, they acknowledge their own sadness and frustration as worthy emotions, and they persevere in cultivating their own best qualities.

Humane educators must not only cultivate all this within themselves, but also in the students we teach. If we create a generation full of despair, rather than a generation enthusiastic to play their part in creating change, we will have failed. If, however, we honor our students’ sorrow, fear, and anger and help them transform these emotions into “right action” we will have created a generation that can embrace the humane educator’s paradox and move toward the unfolding of a better world.

~ Zoe

(Since I’m currently on tour: a repost from 6/2/08.)

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