#ME TOO, Part Two

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Now that we’ve seen backlashes to the #MeToo movement—quibbling about women who’ve complained about awkward dates while overlooking their right not to proceed with them, princess-and-the-pea types who seem to expect men to read their minds. Such arguments tend to expose our human capacity to blame others for our own failures of choice or communication. They can distract us from the true complexity.

Sexual trauma runs deep, and generates scar tissue that can stay impenetrable for most of a lifetime. Anyone who gets annoyed, asking, Why didn’t these women speak up long ago, when less time had passed since they were assaulted, terrified, abused as children, bullied into accommodating domineering persons in positions of power, threatened with death when they were victims of incest, or other forms of molestation, should ask themselves, Am I really paying attention? Am I considering how people bury memories in order to focus on their own survival?

For the annoyed scoffers out there, I offer an example of how long an experience of sexual abuse can stay buried—in my case, most of my life—and how it emerged from the dark recesses of my memory after 60+ years. For the purposes of this website I’ll describe it from the standpoint of attention.

As children my brother and I lived across the road from a farming family and often played with their two sons, one my brother’s age and the other several years older, entering puberty. I was 18 months younger than my brother, a tomboy who enjoyed jumping into haystacks in their barn and running from bulls in the field like the boys did. One day our neighbors’ older son asked me to go with him behind their barn, and I did so with the trust and openness of a five-year-old. I knew nothing about sex and had no idea what he had in mind. He asked me to show him a part of my body if he showed me the same area of his body. It sounded simple enough, so I agreed. The exchange was brief and involved no touching. It seemed to satisfy his curiosity, and I forgot about it—until a couple years later when our own farm went out of business and we had to leave the area.

When it came time to say goodbye to our neighbors, I remember only one thing. The two brothers stood before us and the older one would not look me in the eye. He stared grimly at the floor with an expression I instinctively recognized as one of shame. Only then did I realize that he felt bad about what he’d asked me to do behind their barn, and it was affecting the way he related to me. I wanted him as well as his younger brother to show they were sad to see us go, for we’d been pals and would most likely never see each other again. It hurt that the older brother would not meet my gaze, and left me with a visual imprint of his remorse. In retrospect, one could say that I was denied the acknowledgement of what I’d believed to have been a real friendship—some sign of sadness on his part that my brother and I would no longer live across the road from them. In other words, it damaged the quality of attention he was able to give me at this poignant time of parting. Any genuine display of sadness to see us go and well-wishing for our future was blocked because he felt guilty for doing something that—until that moment—I had not realized had been wrong.

That was what I remembered, not the reality that this boy had taken advantage of my trust and ignorance to have asked me to participate in what grownups considered a sexual offense. So I buried the memory as one childhood disappointment among many, including being shunned by my brother when he started school two years ahead of me, and bullied when I entered school because I was pudgier than many classmates. Its meaning in my life as an experience of sexual abuse did not register.

…Until I found myself arguing with an old friend who was annoyed at the dredging up of old experiences in the #MeToo movement. “I don’t know anyone,” he complained, “who would hide such an experience for so long.” Incredibly, he’d had a long career as a spiritual counselor. Who did he know well enough to believe, who had not spoken up? Me. He became first person I’d ever told about the above episode in my childhood. And only because it decided to resurface in my memory in response to his annoyance.

WHAT HAPPENS TO ATTENTION IN THE POST-TRUTH ERA??

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This problem is so vast—close to overwhelming—that we’ll try to creep up to it on a personal level. In this non-fake case, half a dozen older adults recently got together for a holiday lunch sponsored by the charity for which they work as volunteers. In this group, a friend of mine we’ll call Lynn found herself seated next to a man we’ll call Ben, known to be active in his church. In their three years serving as volunteers Lynn and Ben had developed a friendly working relationship. What emerged in their lunch conversation, however, was that they’d voted on opposite sides of the 2016 Presidential election. Ben, who earns his living renting and selling apartments in New York, was elated that Donald Trump had won the election. Lynn voted for Hillary Clinton, and thought it was unfair that she won the popular vote by nearly three million votes, yet was kept from winning the presidency by the unrepresentative tallies of the Electoral College.

“You’re in real estate,” Lynn said to Ben. “How could you vote for a realtor who took out huge loans, declared bankruptcy six times, and stiffed his contractors for the work they’d already done, putting many of them out of business?”

“Yes, I am in real estate,” Ben responded confidently, “and in Trump’s position I’d have done the same thing.”

“But what about all the lies he’s told,” Lynn asked, “all those insults against immigrants, stirring up hatred for Hillary, calling her a criminal and threatening to put her behind bars?”

“Oh, he’d say anything to get elected,” Ben said in an admiring, dismissive tone. “What matters is, he won.”  By that time, the rest of the table was listening, so Ben announced that instead of quibbling over the election everyone should support the new President in their prayers.

Lynn, offended by Ben’s evasive move, said she’d pray for President Trump to stop lying and act like a responsible leader of the free world rather than a demagogue. The group fell silent, gradually finding things to say about the dishes they’d ordered, the relative merits of diet soda, etc.  Afterward, Lynn confided that she no longer trusted Ben as a businessman or a friend, and would have to pretend to be on positive terms with him as a volunteer.

What, I asked, troubled her the most about Ben? “I wasn’t born yesterday,” she replied defensively. “People lie all the time. It’s just that now we’ve had an election where lies carried the day.” She believed that an oddly charismatic but far less capable person had become President by means of hate-mongering, falsehoods, and fake news that maligned the far more qualified candidate. She was frustrated and more than a little frightened.

“What if everyone lied as a means to an end? We’re supposed to be a nation of laws. Our whole legal system would crumble if people were not required to tell the truth, and punished for perjury.” It wasn’t that Ben’s guy won the election, Lynn explained, it was how he won it—by deliberate distortions of the truth, he and his supporters brushing aside facts and fact-checkers as irrelevant. The result of this disrespect for truth-telling and facts seemed to be that our country was now led by a poorly informed narcissist who generates fake news as ceaselessly as he complains about it.  Lynn mentioned her deep forebodings that the brains behind Trump’s win was the former head of a white supremacist fake news organization, who might assume the role of shadow president. She did not express those concerns to Ben, though, as she was began to feel it was hopeless trying to communicate with him. “He’s supposed to be religious. Isn’t one of the Ten Commandments not to bear false witness? Isn’t that exactly what Trump is doing?”

According to voter interviews, many said they’d overlooked Trump’s unethical track record, in business as well as molesting women, and set their hopes on him out of anger and desperation. A large chunk, who probably gave him his margin of victory in the Electoral College, were on the losing end of an economy that favors the rich and leaves middle and working class people behind. For them a vote for Trump was a Hail Mary pass that entailed discounting a multitude of falsehoods, bad behavior, and fear tactics that generated hatred and distrust. Such methods, others feared, could ultimately destroy the democracy—or what was left of it after the gerrymandering, voter suppression, and dark money poured into elections by the superrich.

Of course, I only heard Lynn’s version of this troubling encounter, but I’m sure she relayed the gist of it. I do share her concern for our democracy and legal system, but as an attending metaphysician I am concerned for other reasons. When we are giving our best attention to someone or something, are we not seeking—and/or appreciating—truth in some way? There is something deeply jarring about being conned or misled by someone who is using their intelligence to conceal truths they don’t want us to know. Human beings pay attention (as do other animals) in a fluid interactive relationship with feelings. It’s one thing to pause and admire a beautiful sunset; another to scrutinize an inflated cable TV bill; yet another to notice the dark circles under our eyes and realize how unhealthy and old they make us look.

Metaphysical attention is the calmest and deepest kind, based on the richest substrate of care, honesty, and appreciation for the integrity and importance of others. It is the only kind that produces what Pope Francis calls discernment, especially that of right and wrong, good and evil. Throughout history philosophers have warned that strong emotions distort reason, but recent research indicates that even rational decisions are influenced by emotions. The question then becomes, What kind of emotions underlie the calculations and our rational minds—ones tied to respect and concern for others, or feelings colored by fear, enmity and disrespect? The Pope makes a powerful point: that in times of crisis, when people are taken in by populist leaders who stir up fear, anger, scapegoating and hysteria, “discernment doesn’t work.” Wow. In a nutshell, such emotions prevent people from perceiving good and evil. Francis has referred to the hysteria of Nazism and Hitler, which won the votes of the German nation and ended up destroying it.

Could President Trump’s chaotic scapegoating, false accusations, and animosity toward Muslim immigrants and minorities destroy the U.S.A.? Let’s not forget that pre-Nazi Germany was considered a highly civilized nation, full of scholars, artists, and scientists who, surely, would not be fooled by a demagogue.  Precious few, who were paying serious attention, resisted. But as we know, far too many succumbed to his charismatic rants. Their country, and the world, paid a terrible price. Attention to truth obligates us to defend it, to insist upon truth and justice.  The survival of our democracy and our integrity as a nation is at stake.