non violent communication, whiteness, ableism, and the right to comfort

Disclaimers:

Non-violent communication is a social theory that outlines ways to communicate clearly with others in a multitude of situations.

It was developed by Marshall Rosenberg in the 60s. He was a white jewish man from the midwest, who witnessed the detroit race riots in 1943 as a child, after moving with his family a week earlier. He was deeply impacted by that experience.

Many of the tools he espouses are useful, meaningful, and found in many other places from indigenous teachers, black activist leaders, and are excellent;
I recommend them for anyone looking to expand their communication skills or introspective abilities.

However—I do not think that NVC (as i will refer to non violent communication from here on out) is required or necessary for ethical community building or conflict resolution. And I take issue with being told, recommended, or ordered to change my communication style for the benefit of others.

While I care deeply about how I affect others and how others feel, others feelings are their own personal responsibility (an idea that Rosenberg espouses in his work).

I’ve found with many white progressives, activists, and community members that when their comfort isn’t centered, when I refuse to communicate in the ways they prefer, the conversation shifts to how mean I am, how rude I’m being, or is shut down completely. None of my points or ideas are answered in any meaningful way, because everyone is so focused on how I’ve refused to do the emotional labor of being non-violent for them.

but no one is owed my non-violence.

And the thing most often left out of these conversations about NVC, is that most violence is not personal, but systemic. Through each of us, systems of white supremacy, capitalism, ableism, and etc. are all being pressed onto us.

When my response lacks gentleness or softness it’s not because I am attacking someone. It is because I am often responding to systemic oppressive violence in their own language and behaviors. Like the violence of commanding someone to assimilate, or the violence of ignoring someone’s needs because you don’t like them, or the violence of centering your own feelings in a group or the violence of using your power in a group to silence someone else.

To tell someone from a different culture, background, or morality that they are wrong for communicating differently than you is white supremacy.

Whiteness is the standard to which we are all meant to aspire. We should all be pure, polite, and productive. Most of all, we should be as white as we can.

So what is whiteness, exactly?
There are specific characteristics to what white supremacy looks like.
There is:
Fear,
One Right Way (perfectionism or paternalism),
The Binary,
Denial and Defensiveness,
Right to Comfort (fear of conflict),
Individualism,
Quantity over Quality,
Worship of the Written Word,
and Urgency.

You can find more to read about each specific characteristic here.

But right now I want to specifically talk about the Right to Comfort and how it relates to NVC.

There is a cultural assumption that power/ privilege holders have a right to comfort: meaning they cannot tolerate conflict, especially openly. As stated on whitesupremacyculture.info,
“This assumption supports the tendency to blame the person or group causing discomfort or conflict rather than addressing the issues being named.”

What I often experience of the practitioners of NVC is similar to what I experience from christians. Their behavior does not match their source material.
For example, in the first chapter of NVC, called “giving from the heart,” Rosenberg talks about reframing our own words and how we hear others; yet the thing I hear most from NVC-ers is how I should be reframing myself for them.

I think that these NVC tools are useful, and when used as described in the book—as a tool for yourself, i’ve no issue. But today was the fourth time someone who disagreed with me told me to read this book and use it to formulate how I communicate.

Can we not resolve a conflict without me conforming and assimilating to your morality and practices? Can we not resolve a conflict if you are uncomfortable with what I say or how I say it? Then perhaps you are not practicing the non-violence you think you are—but rather policing the communication abilities and styles of others. Furthermore, your discomfort does not mean someone else is being violent.

So how does the right to comfort, and NVC relate to ableism?

Because the way I communicate is deeply impacted by my disabilities, including autism and adhd—as it is for many other people.

I do not have the capacity to respond to every stranger with compassion. I do not have the energy to respond to everything I see with non-violence, especially when what I am seeing feels systemically violent to me. I do my absolute best to not insult people, to not use demeaning language, to focus on behavior focused language instead of identity focused language. I articulate myself as clearly as I am capable in each moment.

And the expectation that I behave or communicate in a certain way in order to partake in community or discussion is ableism. The inability to handle being uncomfortable is not only ableism, but also deeply rooted in white supremacy.

While I can appreciate that this book and this practice has been deeply helpful for many, it has the opposite effect for me personally.

I was raised as a young girl in evangelical christianity. I was taught my feelings were insignificant and my anger was evil. If I disagreed with something, well who cared? My opinion was not valuable unless I could convey it perfectly for the other person/ people. If I felt hurt by others I should
forgive and “turn the other cheek.”

The thing about non-violence that I personally do not agree with practicing for myself is this idea that we should respond to violence with compassion.
I do not want to respond to violence with compassion.

I believe it is an admirable challenge to undertake but I do not believe that it is my moral, social, or ethical obligation to make other people feel good or comfortable with what I say or how I say it. I do not believe it is my responsibility to be non-violent with my language.

I feel if someone punches me that I will probably punch them back.

In the same way, when people behave a certain way—being greedy, defensive, divisive, bigoted, passive aggressive, or otherwise, I believe in saying so. And I heartily encourage others to do the same with me; I need much practice in receiving and processing criticism with openness and thoughtfulness.

I don’t believe non-violence alone can save us or our world. We need a diversity of tactics and that includes in how we respond and speak to one another. We need a diversity of experiences and opinions in our communities and lives.

And for many people, healing and decolonizing their minds means learning to be a little meaner, learning to expect others to accept them, regardless of if they are snappish or harsh.

For many people, resisting oppression and fighting for their freedom means being violent.

In his book Rosenberg talks about visiting Palestinians in Bethlehem. As I read that passage I wonder what he would think of hamas, of the genocide they are facing. I wonder, what material support he gave to the man who talked about his child playing in sewers and the American weapons that were harming his community and people. I wonder how the Palestinian people would react to the idea of trying to nonviolently communicate with the arbiters of their deaths and suffering. I wonder, did non-violent communication help the Palestinians as their homes and olive tree groves were burned, as soldiers beat them, as bombs were dropped on their hospitals and schools? Has any communication the world over stopped the Israeli government?

I wonder what he would say to my girlfriend who calmly explained to her friends how they were being racist, and has faced ostracism and the loss of queer community because she spoke up. Should she be more compassionate? Should she exert her energy to explain to people how they are harming her, over and over? Does she owe the world (that violently oppresses her because she’s black) non-violent communication?

I wonder what he would say if I asked him about the women who came forward about him during the Me Too movement or about the impact of Thomas Szasz on his practice. (Thomas Szasz believed mental illness didn’t exist and that it was essentially an excuse to evade personal responsibility.)

I don’t mean to disparage a dead man that I’ve never met. I mean to draw attention to the prejudices and perspectives, the privilege, inherent in being a white man in the 60s. Which is when he wrote this book.

Which brings me back to the pillars of white supremacy; it is easy for a white man to establish himself as an expert and tell people the “right way” to be. It is quite easy in fact, with any communication style, for a white man to be listened to, heard, understood, obeyed.

Because our culture also operates under the assumption that white is right!—white knows best. White men, ofcourse, know best of all. Which brings us to Paternalism. Marshall Rosenberg may have been a white savior to many, and may be a teacher to many still though his work.

But he is not my white savior, and I defy the Paternalistic expectation that I defer to his expertise or knowledge.

Knowledge is not more worthy or better because it was bestowed by institutions or is written in a book. It is not more sacred or correct because a white man wrote it, or because many people practice it.

All beings deserve to live in community and with dignity, free from oppression, regardless of their ability to be nice to you. If all you can say to someone you disagree with is, “Wow you’re so rude,” perhaps, rethink your contribution to the conversation. And if you need someone to change how they speak, for you to listen to them: you are not a very good listener.

There is not one right way to resolve conflict or speak to others.
The way I or anyone else speaks isn’t wrong because it’s less nice, or more snappy, has profanity, or makes you uncomfortable.
And even if you believe it IS wrong, why do you need to force your morality upon others?

My biggest issue with the words “non-violent communication” is how they are thrown at me. Instead of being listened to, instead of being asked thoughtful questions or argued with for my ideas, instead I get “called out” for my “unnecessary rudeness.”

I don’t say anything unnecessary to me. It is all necessary for me. And I deserve to be heard by the people in my community just as much as anyone else. So does my girlfriend, so do the students facing conviction for their “crimes” of protest against the Palestinian genocide, so do autistic people who are harsh or have aggressive meltdowns.

No one is entitled to my compassion. It is a gift that I choose to give when it is within my capacity and desire. It is not my moral obligation to walk you through your feelings. The work of non-violent communication was designed by a therapist, doing therapy work in interpersonal relationships over 60 years ago. I do not think it is applicable to the social and political problems of our modern world. People with power will not give up their power because we asked them politely, or because our arguments are air tight, or because they are so moved with compassion by our suffering.

And people in our communities are not entitled to the patience, knowledge, or capacity of other marginalized people. These things too are gifts, meant to be given without expectation of return.