The Power of Loving Attention
Lucinda Garthwaite, ILI Director
For the past several weeks, we at the ILI have prepared for the launch of our Equity Scholar in Residence model. More on that in the news section below; for now I’ll say that with a lot of help, by Tuesday morning I was back in business clothes for the first time in two years, ready to share our excitement about this new path to social equity with attendees at the Vermont Principals’ Association’s annual Leadership Academy.
As the ESR Model met the world in person for the first time, we were greeted with curiosity, encouragement, and substantial interest in expanding the impact of our work. There was something else though, in many of my conversations there. As I sorted through business cards and thought about each new acquaintance, a thread of strong feeling kept coming through. I’ve struggled with what to name it.
Last night some family came for dinner, and I shared our new informational booklet with my nephew, a clinical social worker who specializes in trauma. He sat right down to read it and soon looked up, “This is so important” he said, then read this line back to me: “There is no small amount of honest fear and anguish in community and school dynamics around issues of social inequity.”
Then I knew what I’d been hearing this week, anguish.
If that word brings to mind head-in-hands weeping, that’s not what I mean. I mean, in the midst of a conversation, a sudden stillness in a face, something like yearning in the eyes, a quiet, urgent energy. A hint of emotions like fear, frustration and confusion. Grief was also in the mix - the deep sadness that comes with sharpened understanding of others’ pain, and earnest not-knowing what to do. The anguish I recognized was heartfelt, even spiritual struggle.
Given the nature of the VPA gathering, my conversations were one-on-one. When people asked about the model, I’d start my answer with something like, “Well, it begins with genuine relationship, meeting people whole and where they are, without judgement, with compassion and a belief in the possibility of restoration.”
By way of explanation, I’d hold my hands wide, indicating something much larger than what I could see standing in front of me, and I’d say, “I assume that you and your life experience are much more complex than what I can see.” That was in several cases all I said before anguish revealed itself, before the conversation got very real.
Sometimes the anguish showed up first as anger at those who actively resist efforts for social equity in schools. As soon as I suggested that resistance might be born of fear, and that fear requires compassion, that anguished struggle appeared.
We acknowledged, in many of those conversations, that anguish about social equity rests on many different perspectives. That line that my nephew read back to me last night continues, “If not well-met, those dynamics can result in deepened concern and resistance, while sharp inequity and harm continues in schools.”
But what does it mean to meet anguish, especially anguish that looks like resistance to the change we seek? How do we meet it well-enough to mitigate deepening harm, to shift change in the direction of increasing equity and decreasing violence?
Activist, public intellectual and Smith College professor Loretta J. Ross offers one answer. In a TED talk this week, Ross said, “You don't have to agree with somebody to offer them loving attention.” It makes complete sense to me that anguish needs, more than anything, loving attention, and Ross suggests that loving attention does not mean giving up, when she continues, “All you're admitting at that moment is there's a possibility they're as complicated as you are, and [that] everybody deserves to be heard and respected..."
I’ve been writing this post with all of the conversations of this week on my mind, and thinking of course about launching the ESR model. The model is defined by four things: genuine relationship, learner-centeredness, compassionate and restorative approach, and responsive scholarship. That all adds up, essentially, to loving attention. The essence of the ESR model is loving attention.
One educator I talked with about the model this week said, “Oh you’re much more patient than I.” “No,” I said, “ask anyone who knows me; I am not a particularly patient person. Honestly, I’m quick to anger and judge, and I can easily insist that I’m right, especially about social inequity”.
Then I said to my new friend, “But that’s not what works,” we both had tears in our eyes as I continued, “Things have got to change, and I really need to focus on what works.”
The Equity Scholar in Residence model works – nothing is perfect of course, but it works. As its representative this week, I saw that in action, and I heard educators say over and over again that this model had made them more capable of moving the needle for their students.
We still have much to learn about how and why the model works. That’s alright; it’s what the ILI is for. This morning, though, I’m resting in gratefulness for the gift of loving attention, and to have shared that with new friends this week. We relieved each other’s anguish, even if just a little. That, I believe, has made us all more ready to contribute to change.