After reading the material assigned and reflecting back on our discussions in class last week, I felt compelled to address two topics: Compassion and the ulterior motive behind public policy.
But first, compassion. Compassion is defined in the dictionary by a deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it. For me, this is something I experience everyday; a hardened New Yorker, my heart is still wrenched from my chest at the sight of those who are suffering. It goes without saying that this compassion carries over to my educational endeavors. For this reason I pose the question, "How can we distance ourselves in such a way that we remain empathetic without becoming emotionally involved?"
Someone last class had mentioned education. I feel that education is one vehicle to obtaining this a balance, but it does not tackle the full problem. People in our positions will be faced (or already have been faced) with numerous situations that evoke compassion. To what extent should we hold back or let loose our compassion? When does compassion interfere with the goals of justice, or of equality? Is there a place for "compassion" in the American Criminal Justice System?
It is my personal opinion that another way of controlling this is through mere exposure. The more you are confronted with situations that draw compassion the better one becomes at dealing with it. I think this is something that we learn in our internships, but not necessarily as formal education. When I first started commuting to Manhattan everyday, I had very strong emotional reactions to the setting (mainly, homeless people); It was as if I wanted nothing more than to buy them a meal and suit. Now, even though these reactions are slightly subdued, I still can not help but want to help. I get by telling myself I can't help everyone.
I was recently struck by a conversation I had with my mentor about a program that works to keep prisoners in contact with their close friends and family. Studies have indicated that increased ties with those outside the prison can reduce the likelihood of that person recidivating (Bales and Mears, 2008). Furthermore, it is very likely that this program will save the state money in the future. Why is it then, that these programs are being cut? Where is the compassion?
I feel that a lot of the reason is related to what Professor Waterson discussed in Anthropologists on Writing. There is definitely an "underlying objective" governing a large majority of public policy. This is well reflected in cutting funds for a program that allows inmates more outside contact. If social programs really are designed with the purpose of "maintaining and reproducing a population under existing social conditions (Waterson, 2009)", then I understand why this program was cut. This program allowed inmates a means to transition into society, in addition to the myriad of other psychological and emotional benefits one gets from contact with loved ones. This is a program that if properly funded, could truly help ex-offenders to reintegrate back into society. If this program is cut, I feel it would be in part because someone along the line lacked compassion. There was some "underlying objective" that this program was not meeting.
I feel that compassion is sometimes perceived as an all consuming feeling of angst that obscures all reason and ability to perform professionally. While such may be true in some scenarios, it is at times hard to control feelings of compassion, and we therefore must learn to work with it; draw a critical eye to how you can become impaired in a "compassionate" situation and learn from it. It is our job to carve out a niche between the cold, distanced, scholarly education snob and the good hearted, compassionate person inside of us that makes us want to relieve all the suffering we see.
P.S. Anyone interested in reading the Legal Action Center's Blueprint for Criminal Justice Reform, it can be found on LAC's website (www.lac.org) under the publications section on the left hand side of the toolbar!
10 comments:
Maureen, you took the words right out of my mouth! I too experience daily during my commute a strong want for helping any homeless person I encounter. However, I think there has to be a balance. By constantly showering someone with compassion and helping them overcome each obstacle they face, most likely that person will end up dependant on your help. In order to find a balance and avoid becoming emotionally involved we should view each case objectively and ask ourselves how can we best help this person. Taking a step back and allowing that person to struggle and learn how to deal with rejection and negative responses makes them stronger.
One of my mentors deals with people struggling on a day to day basis and it is his job to remain neutral and deliver an unbiased judgment to the court. Instead of automatically putting himself in their shoes (which is often my knee-jerk reaction!) he takes a step back and forces himself to view them as a name on a piece of paper. When I first received this piece of advice I was automatically outraged, asking him what he does if he meets someone who is truly in need of his help. He responded by saying that his unbiased judgment is how he is helping the person in front of him. By viewing each person as just a name on a paper, he can objectively take into consideration the person’s drug history, past criminal history, and current circumstances. With those factors he can determine a fair conclusion, taking a course of action that is best for that particular case.
This course of action is definitely hard to swallow but I think it is a great step to begin with.
Due to the fact that American Justice System is based on the deterrence theory, there is no space left for compassion. In the past decade, in the American justice system we’ve registered a reorientation towards alternative sentencing. However, I don’t see this as a compassionate method. It is more a measure to reduce the sky rocketing cost registered in the incarceration system. Statistics shows that it costs 8 times more to have someone in jails than in public schools. By choosing alternative sentencing, the system looks to save money, not to be compassionate.
Compassion is something embedded in our personality. It’s also something we’ve develop with education. That’s why it is hard for some of us to detach and hold back. One way or another, every criminal justice systems around the world have a level of unfairness. But, I believe we can be involved in them without losing our compassion. Criminal justice is a broad subject, that doesn’t have to include only people who need to draw a line between good and bad, jail and society.
We find that other institutions, like CASES would not be able to achieve their goals without compassion. When we talk about compassion and justice, I have the feeling that we talk about two concepts that cannot interlock. They actually do. Even judges are allowed to go outside the sentencing guide and give a less harsh sentence. They based their decisions on factors that are more related with compassion then justice. Even our idea of justice can be questioned. What is justice after all? Is anything criminal in itself, if we don’t define it as being criminal? American war on drugs sends thousands of people to prison, more people than other countries are sending to detoxification. Therefore, we don’t have compassion for some people; people, that in other countries are treated with compassion. Our compassion changes according to what we identify as being just.
I agree that in time we detached ourselves from some societal problems and we respond less to our compassionate call. However, I do not believe that this is necessarily a good approached. We need to find a balance between compassion and justice.
I feel as though your post was so all-encompassing, Maureen. Many of the things I wanted to say in reaction to some of your statements, you covered yourself later on in your post. Of course the answer is balance (it always seems to be), but nobody ever really talks about how to achieve that balance, or how difficult it is to find it, OR once you find it that you must constantly keep yourself in check in order to remain balanced. I have been told time and time again in courses that when working with offenders/ex-offenders that you must not approach any level of closeness to your clients or feel sorry for them- they try and teach you how to avoid being manipulated by the “criminals” you are going to work for. Surely, this is a unique population, and people do play games (both offenders and professionals working with the offenders), and some caution is necessary. But how meaningful and sincere would your work be if you had no compassion? We probably wouldn’t be in this line of work if it were not for our compassion. Though, as Ridhi said, too much compassion can be detrimental. Ultimately, I think we can keep ourselves in check by asking if whatever we are doing or however we are reacting is most helpful for the person. Sometimes when compassion takes over, we risk being less helpful. For instance, continuing to give the homeless change might seem to be the most compassionate thing to do, but the most helpful thing might be to connect him with resources, like a shelter.
I believe it is important to help people become as self-sufficient as they are capable of being, and that is why I respect so many of the organizations we are working for. For example, my organization does set up clients with housing, provides them with information on how to get public assistance, etc., but ultimately it is up to the clients to fill out the paperwork, send it to the right place, arrive at their appoints on time, etc. My mantra is usually not to do things for people, but to help people do things for themselves.
I’d like to start with Maureen’s question, "How can we distance ourselves in such a way that we remain empathetic without becoming emotionally involved?" I assume by “emotionally involved” Maureen is referring to (as the others who posted also wrote about) getting very drawn in—or too drawn in--by individual clients. I think protecting yourself from getting too drawn in is not necessarily the same as “emotional involvement.” Emotional involvement can mean “getting too drawn in” but it can also signal passion, concern, understanding, empathy—those kinds of emotional states I think are important to STAY IN and not lose if we want to make a difference in people’s lives (keeps us honest, keeps us from getting disdainful).
Emotional involvement does not necessarily mean getting caught up into the kinds of things Ridthi seems to refer to. To me, compassion does not have to (nor should it) translate into “saving” people from themselves or other kinds of dysfunctionally enabling actions on our part. To me, that’s not compassion, but sympathy. Sympathy (in my view) has more to do with feeling sorry for someone else, feeling badly for them, maybe even pitying them—an emotion that I think is not helpful nor necessarily respectful.
For me, compassion is different, and I’d like to use Maureen’s definition to clarify my take on it: “Compassion is defined in the dictionary by a deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it.” Nora (the woman I wrote about in my piece), is a suffering individual, and my desire to relieve her suffering has directed me to try to understand the social causes (not just the individual, personal causes), the roots of the social suffering experienced by all the Noras in our world. Even though I can appreciate her individuality—in all its complexity (she’s so smart, she’s so messed up, she’s so funny, she’s so manipulative—she’s so real), I can also see her as emblematic of all those “rubbish people” who our society devalues (and the ways in which we socially “reproduce” the “rubbish people”). I’m emotionally involved in multiple ways: I’m angry that because of the way our world is organized—politically, economically, socially—the most vulnerable among us get burned (while others get away with murder—making wars, playing loose with money, getting bailed out—I’m talking about the big banks/ bankers here, not the small time swindlers). And Nora breaks my heart. Yes, I’d like to relieve Nora’s suffering, but I know the best way to do that is by means of social change, social transformation.
And finally, I hold in my hands this contradiction: Nora, a poor black woman in America, once wrote me from prison: “I’ve got 78 days of sobriety!” That very same week, I received a letter from Zoe (not her real name), a very close friend I’ve known for over 50 years (!)—a white, upper class woman who wrote her note from her upper west side 4 bedroom apartment: “I’ve got 79 days of sobriety!” Why was one addict languishing in prison, while the other was getting comfortably healed by her therapists, expensive rehab programs, etc. Where’s the justice in that??!
--Professor Waterston
Interesting topic: compassion.
As I read Maureen's blog, it brings to mind an older woman whom I tried to help as she struggled with her cane down the stairs of a subway station. As I offered to help, she screamed at me and said, "leave me alone!". I felt embarrassed, and a little shaken. I almost cried to be honest (perhaps I was stressed).
Another incident happened where I was coming home from work one day and I saw a man dressed in a nice business attire, standing at the bottom of the stairs in the subway. He explained to me that he had a job interview and needed $4.00, but had no money to take the train. I gave it to him. A couple of days later I saw the same man in the same attire in a different subway telling me the same story. I reminded him that I had seen him previously, and he simply ignored me and walked away. I felt I was taken for a ride.
I had to struggle with myself not be feel jaded, because I know that I had before and continue to encounter honest people who are sincere and are in genuine circumstances. I believe many New Yorkers do feel jaded. These New Yorkers work within our criminal justice system and other organization that is crucial to the well being of others.
Unfortunately, we are taught early on that emotional reactions have no place in the professional and political world. Somehow, it is dictated that we should act based off of numbers (profits and success rates) rather than personal relationships. (Especially as women, being labeled as too emotionally involved can be debilitating and belittling.)
On one hand, I see the need for emotional detachment in the criminal justice system. Impartiality is crucial, but it also seems impossible. We can’t help but have an emotional reaction to almost everything we hear and encounter. So, especially when we’re involved with such personal and important aspects in someone’s life, we’re bound to feel compassion. This is where the exercise Ridhi’s mentor gave her is useful.
Compassion can be incredible motivator. But, if there are injustices within the system, then the system needs to be reformed. We cannot, based on compassion, bend the rules to help a few people. This only creates further injustice.
I recently read that intuition is transcendental reasoning. I am intrigued by this statement, and I think it’s true. It is important to honor our intuitions and emotions about everything we encounter. Although they may not be influential on an institutional level in and of themselves, they can inspire us to the course of action that will be. After all, lady justice may be blind, but she is not deaf and dumb. (And she is a woman!)
Everybody's comments are so smart and thoughtful and I feel like I always write in with some dorky anecdote, but here I go again! I was walking my dog along a very busy road and another dog, without a leash or owner, comes up to us. I grab the dog, walk him back to my street (less busy), and call the number on the collar. It turns out that I "rescued" the "lost" dog from pretty much his own driveway. My kids/husband think this is hysterical and now accuse me of being a dognapper. I defend myself by saying that the dog was loose, no owner in sight and the road on which we were was extraordinarily dangerous. But, yes, I did take him from his own driveway.
What on earth, you are thinking, does this have to do with Maureen's post and all the excellent comments? Well, it is a lesson to me (outside of the high stakes scenario of homelessness or addiction) of how "help" is complicated -- by what our immediate, unconscious assumptions are (dog off leash = lost, neglected; lost dog on street = roadkill), by our own sense of self (I am an animal lover and a helpful person who wants the world to be orderly and predictable). If I had examined any of those things, I might have seen that dog differently (but don't tell my family b/c with them I'm sticking with my story of Caroline, Dog Rescuer). So I guess the moral of this story is, once again, education. The more you can learn about any given situation (context), the better you will be able to decide how to handle it (whether that is a few extra bucks, a map to a shelter, or a impersonal interview at an agency).
One other comment about this compassion string, which is something I think about a great deal with social justice work: burn out. Clearly, there must be room for compassion in the work you do/you see being done at your agencies. But does compassion keep justice workers from burning out (becoming cynical, giving up) or does it contribute to burn out. In grad school, I worked at a bookstore run by a woman who used to work in a community family court. She went into that field because she herself was from a broken home and wanted to be an advocate for kids who ended up in that court. She burned out and started this quirky little bookstore. I asked her about leaving that career and she said that if she could have cared less she might have lasted longer.
First of all, Maureen thank you for bringing up this topic. This is one of my biggest problems, where do we draw the line with compassion. How do we keep our inspiration from actually draining us. These are really messy areas and honestly I do not have the answer. I honestly do not believe there is an answer.
Your post reminded me of the time when I was working with the Women's Center and was outreaching on subjects like rape, events and violence against women. I started speaking with this one girl who started crying and told me how she had been raped and had no clue who actually raped her. All she remembered was waking up in a building with no underwear.
My heart was shattered and I wanted to cry with her and curse the person or people who raped her but I knew that at that moment she needed an ear to air all her emotions out. This is one of the things that all of us in the social services field have to be concerned about, we become the ears that actually listen to the horrible events that happen to people. How do we keep going even though these kinds of instances rip our heart out? I just try to remember that someone needs to help, someone needs to listen, someone needs to get up. More so, if we walk away, would injustice also walk away?
Ironically, I was drafting my response to the post on "compassion" on the train when some very hateful, racial, fighting words were being thrown by an elderly white man to an asian man...
Kerry-Ann and Professor Reitz thank you for your posts! I have similar stories, but I'm not going to share mine because I'm too embarrassed by them.
New Yorkers are always stereotyped as this cold, heartless people.
Which could be is true sometimes. I'm sure most of us have been standing on a train when someone old/disabled/ pregnant with two kids walks on and NO ONE gives up their seat.
But I'm sure most of us have offered a seat, or help with a stroller, or opened the door for someone and have been told "no" or have been met with hostility.
So maybe New Yorkers aren't always falling over themselves saying please and thank you, but I understand why.. it's easy to be apprehensive about being kind when you have to fear getting the evil eye or being yelled at.
I think as a society, we have the ability to show great compassion, if we were able to express it.
I don't think this is what MLK meant by building a beloved community- but people of all races colors, sizes and genders were waiting for the chance to hit this guy on the train, ranting and spewing hate.
We all felt it, but none of us knew what (constructive thing) to do about it.
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