The Pull of a Trigger and Push of a Button

Things have gotten pretty messy out there. Emotions are running high and there are a lot of LOUD VOICES in my social media feeds telling me that I just can’t keep everyone happy. And why exactly are things so messy? Because of a trigger and a button.

First, let’s understand a little bit about trauma. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) defines trauma for the purpose of diagnosis. Brainline.org summarizes it this way: The person was exposed to: death, threatened death, actual or threatened serious injury, or actual or threatened sexual violence, in the following way(s):

• Direct exposure

• Witnessing the trauma

• Learning that a relative or close friend was exposed to a trauma

• Indirect exposure to aversive details of the trauma, usually in the course of professional duties (e.g., first responders, medics)

It is a requirement that this criteria, as well as a list of others, be met in order to diagnose someone with PTSD. However, many of us have symptoms of PTSD while not necessarily meeting all the criteria for diagnosis. So if we think about the above definition as (T)rauma with a capital T, most of us have experienced trauma on some level. A way to think about trauma, apart from a DSM-5 diagnosis, is a general sense of feeling unsafe in your world. This might come from one specific acute event or it may come from repeated patterns of experience that leave you feeling unsafe (often labeled complex trauma).

Here’s why I’m bringing this up. Our friends, neighbors, co-workers, etc. who are people of color have likely experienced trauma, Trauma and more TRAUMA. Now, I get that they are not alone in this, skin color does not protect us from trauma and I am not trying to dismiss or minimize your experiences. I’m highlighting this in communities of color because trauma is pervasive there. Most, maybe even all, have had experiences of being discriminated against, treated suspiciously, harassed, threatened, etc. because of the color of their skin. Not only that, but they have been exposed to countless stories of trauma from people they care about.

Our brains and bodies are amazing. They are wired to keep us safe. One of the ways they do that is by storing up all kinds of information when we are traumatized (time of year, tone of voice, smells, sights, sounds, colors, etc.) in order to warn us if we re-experience any of those things in the future. This is called a “trigger” and it sends our bodies into fight or flight (if there’s a history of Trauma, this can sometimes mean that both fight and flight feel so unsafe that they freeze instead.)

Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor and George Floyd were all triggers for many people in the black community. Those stories were horrifying all on their own, but also brought with them a tide of memories of all their own experiences of hate, pain and discrimination. So we have a community of people who are triggered and grieving. Grieving these senseless deaths and remembering, and possibly re-experiencing their own traumatic experiences. It makes sense that emotions are running high. Not only are they grieving the losses of these people, but also the fact that they have to be scared when their children leave the house, when their kids leave the house. Parents have to have conversations with their young children, particularly boys, about how to respond if they are confronted. And while, yes, we will teach Noah to be kind and courteous, especially when confronted by authority, his life is not dependent on his ability to do so.

But that’s just one side of the coin here.

Come close, white friends. We need to talk.

Now stop for a second. What was your internal response to that? Did you get a little angry? Do you feel a little defensive? Pay attention to that.

As I’ve been having conversations with loved ones who are people of color, I’ve heard some repeated things. One big one is that, when they share with white friends and family about their experiences, it tends to not be received well. “I’m sure that’s not what they meant?” “Do you think maybe you have a chip on your shoulder?” “Is it possible you misunderstood or are jumping to conclusions?” “Is that really how it happened?”

It gets even messier when they try to share with someone that something that was said or done was hurtful or offensive. “I don’t have a racist bone in my body!” “I didn’t mean anything by it!” “Boy, you’re super sensitive!” These are the tame responses.

Here’s what I think is happening. Our shame button is getting pushed. And shame tends to lead to defensiveness. One way to recognize shame is when our brain makes big leaps in our conclusions. Someone tries to share with us that we said something that hurt them and in our mind we jump to them thinking we are kneeling on a black man’s neck. And we just can’t let them think we are in the same category, so we push back.

Now, all of this happens so fast that we aren’t really aware of it. It’s not that we are making conscious decisions to do this. But the way to know that it’s happening is to recognize that our first inclination is to disagree with something being said. This is a sign of defensiveness and defensiveness points to shame.

I think that the vast majority of us are good people. Maybe that’s naive of me, but it helps me survive in the world to believe that. I think that most of us good people work hard not to hurt people. I also think that 100% of us do actually hurt people along the way and, most often, that hurt is unintentional. Because it was unintentional, we are often unaware of the pain we cause unless the person we hurt has the courage to come to us and let us know. The hurt party may or may not understand that the hurt was unintentional. Because hurt, as a primary emotion, is a vulnerable thing to express, often when hurt we move into our secondary (stronger, more active) emotions to feel a little more safe and strong. Protected hurt often looks like anger. Do you see how this could get messy fast? If the hurt is unintentional, and someone comes to confront us and they are angry, we are very likely to quickly move toward shame (because they seem to be assuming the worst about us) and get defensive. Our defensiveness means that their very real hurt has now come into question and that is never ever helpful.

White friends, I realize that most of you would never ever consider gunning down a man who was out for a jog. Because of shame, when our bias or insensitivity is pointed out, we often jump to thinking that we are being placed in the same category as someone who would gun down an innocent man: a racist. And we can’t be that! So, we unintentionally invalidate the feelings and experiences of others because we don’t want to accept that racism still exists, especially in us. But what if racism is a spectrum? What if 100% (of all skin colors and ethnicities) of us are bias, which is a sign of racism, but that doesn’t have to put us in the category with white supremacists? Could your tolerance for hearing that you blew it increase a little?

I want to be very clear that I’m not making excuses for anyone here. That’s not what this is. What I want you to understand is that people of color are triggered and grieving. And right now, that might look like anger and fight. And it can be hard to move toward someone who comes out swinging, but try to do it anyway. You’ll find that, when someone is triggered, and someone close to them is able to stay calm and grounded, that helps deescalate things. I also want you to be aware of when your shame button gets pushed. Is your initial response to tell someone they are wrong about what happened? Your shame button was pushed. Even if they are telling you about something that happened to them that has nothing to do with you. We do not want to believe that racism exists because we don’t want to believe that we are capable of it. That’s not helpful. But if you can be aware of your shame, you can keep it from running the conversation.

As you can see, with the pull of a trigger and the push of a button, all hell breaks loose.

On Privilege and Bias

This is a risk. I want to talk about what is happening in our country right now and I am at risk of saying something stupid, insensitive, wrong. But I would so much rather take that risk and learn from my mistakes than be silent.

Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd, Breonna Taylor…these are just the names from the last few weeks. They are not the same story. All had different lives, different deaths, different stories. But all point to a sickness, a rot, deep in the system, that must be addressed.

We can be quick to get defensive when someone wants to talk to us about privilege. It feels like any acknowledgement of privilege is a claim that we didn’t have to work hard for where we got. That somehow we had it easy. The problem is, when we deny the existence of something, we lose control over it. If we have decided to pretend it’s not happening, look the other way, it can’t be addressed.

Because of this, it is VITAL that we be willing to take some time to look at, be aware, of our privilege. I’ll tell you a little about mine to get us started.

When I go into a store, I am never viewed suspiciously. I can walk to the bandaid aisle and pick some out that match my skin tone and aren’t noticeable. If I get pulled over for speeding, I’m not concerned this interaction could escalate and get away from me. I will teach my son to be kind and respectful, but I don’t have to worry that his life depends on his ability to do so. Honestly, as I start this list, I get overwhelmed. These privileges relate to my gender, my skin tone and they barely scrape the surface. We haven’t even touched on socioeconomic privilege. There are few groups of people with more privilege than I have as a middle class, white, American woman. If I can be aware of it, acknowledge it, then I can keep it in check. Then I can find ways to empower others. But here’s an important piece, I want to always be learning. I don’t want to hold the belief that I’m “woke” or “evolved” and know all about my privilege. I want to be able to recognize, with humility, that I have blind spots. We all do.

The other thing that is vitally important that we take a look at is our bias. Brace yourself, because this might be uncomfortable. We all have biases. And just like privilege, the more aware of them we can be, the more likely we are to keep them in check. Saying that we don’t see color is a denial of these biases and much more likely to lead us into hurting people, being reactive, or maintaining a broken system.

Have you ever been sitting in your car and seen someone walking up the sidewalk and reached over to punch the lock button? That was not the wrong thing to do. I’m not here to critique attempts at being safe. But, it could be evidence of bias. Something about that person led to you feeling uncomfortable, unsafe. Maybe it was their gender, maybe it was their skin color, maybe it was something in their demeanor. Maybe it was something in you. Locking the door is fine, but let’s also take a second and notice what’s happening. What prompted that action? Having bias doesn’t make you the bad guy here, it’s just so important to be aware of it. That is what allows you to keep it in check.

Imagine later you see this same person being harassed by a store owner. Ignoring your bias from earlier, might lead you to assume that it’s justified. It might lead you to be silent. Being aware of your own bias, however, might lead you to being aware of the potential bias of others. Maybe you could ask some questions, seek to understand the situation and what’s happening.

Being aware of your privilege and bias, really looking at it, is a way to begin to make things shift. You can keep these things in check in yourself and challenge them in others.

One of the hardest things about this week was feeling helpless. I have dear friends who are people of color and I’m grieving with them and angry on their behalf. I do not believe that riots are the solution, but I do understand the sentiment. And I believe that Jesus flipping tables in the temple might get it, too.