Leslie Morgenson
Published in March 2005
I remember the day five years ago when I first came to the community of St. John’s Kitchen. It was a day I witnessed two fights, one in the kitchen and one outside in a parking lot near a high school. It wasn’t the fights themselves that stood out because surely tempers flare in every workplace, school and home, but what was surprising was how differently they were handled.
The morning fight at the kitchen was handled by concerned people who gently pried the two combatants apart. There was worry in all of the faces I observed. Everyone seemed to understand that such outbreaks have implications for the entire community, chipping away at the stability one feels both personally and commonly.
The afternoon fight involved high school students, surrounded by an enormous and continually growing swarm of onlookers who en masse cheered and egged the two on. There was no way either combatant could end the fight until one was victorious over the other.
It was encouraging to watch the resolution of the morning altercation, whereas it was disheartening to watch the afternoon fight. These tender teens had already learned so well the “win at all cost” achievement and efficiency model of the society in which they had been raised. The entire group was focused and driven. They wanted a decisive winner and they wanted it quickly. The inference was that they had not been listened to in their lives, hence they were not going to listen to each other now. These kids were simply employing what they’d been taught through actions if not words: to adopt an approach that is totally contrary to generosity and reconciliation.
Most of the people in the St. John’s Kitchen community have experienced the meanness of a culture that wants winners. Losers are treated badly, mostly because, it seems that they have failed and that is why it is their fault. In contrast, time spent at St. John’s Kitchen reveals that people want to live in a respectful community, where softness is shown, where people take a longer route, talking things out, and maybe not resolving the issue today, but thinking about it today.
Accepting a slower process is often what people at St. John’s Kitchen prefer, a process not offering quick answers. People need to be allowed to struggle with dilemmas, reflect, and then parcel out the responsibility—mine as well as yours. To function in the alternative fashion, to be hierarchical, is to be in the hands of someone else who tells you how to act and feel.
Leaving behind a familiar vertical model that seeks social stratification, power and status and moving to a horizontal approach that allows for different voices working for the well being of the entire group is not easily done. A patron recently reflected upon how startled he’d been when he first arrived at St. John’s. “If being here has taught me anything, it is to look at things from many different perspectives.” There is a feeling of relief when you understand that a hierarchical model is not going to be imposed. It suddenly frees you from always looking for an enemy and looking to lay blame. Instead, each person becomes integral to the community. Only then does the accumulation of tacit knowledge begin.
Tacit knowledge cannot be learned from a book. It cannot be studied nor decontextualized. It has to be lived and experienced and then becomes an essential part of who we are. A person cannot face a new dilemma or situation and presume to know what must be done. It has to be struggled with, consolidated and retrieved before answers are clear. And only after a slow meandering process are answers obvious. But the result is richness earned, for the edict has not been enforced by someone higher on the totem pole. It has been lived and will forever be a part of that person’s practical knowledge.
The global outpouring of sympathy following the recent tsunami tragedy was evidence that we are a generous people who do care about the well being of all world citizens. Likewise I have witnessed great generosity within the St. John’s Kitchen community demonstrating that, despite terrible tragedies, people do continue to carry great hope and long for a kinder way.
A year and a half ago, an “Alternatives to Violence” group was formed at St. John’s by a small collection of people. These individuals shared a concern for the frequency of violations exhibited in daily life. From road rage to domestic conflicts and from disgruntled neighbours to assault, violence at times seems pervasive. The group turned its attention to its own community, St. John’s Kitchen. After meeting regularly for some months, the group decided that the use of traditional Native Talking Circles and de-escalation workshops would be beneficial resources to utilize in our community. With the guidance of Lou Henry and Donna Dubie from Four Directions Aboriginal Restorative Justice, we have come to use Talking Circles within St. John’s when dilemmas have arisen. The beauty of the Circles is that everyone gets a chance to speak and everyone has to listen to the others. Talking Circles have always been a part of the lifestyle of Aboriginal communities. Everything is discussed. But there are no quick answers in this process which is at times bewildering to those of us who have mostly been a part of hierarchical ladders that would crack if they tried to be circular.
Having a voice within a circle seems to give people strength to handle the next situation in a creative, tolerant way. Even when they aren’t at times aware of the changes in themselves, their acts of kindness and generosity speak for them before they are even consciously aware of it. Clearly, Talking Circles highlight Helen Keller’s assertion that “Although the world is very full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.” By and large, people don’t want a fight to escalate. They typically are grateful for intervention when they’re in the midst of harsh words with another.
The group of youngsters I observed were displaying with actions modeled from a culture that likes to see a winner and a loser. It is often left to individuals to set the standard of kindness. However, in small circles, great change can and is taking place.
We are long overdue in our culture for such long term, visionary work.
