Author: vanessa mahmoud

psychotherapist, author

Therapy and Racial Trauma | My Life Uncensored

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology, Ethnic Identity, Healers, Healing Techniques, Writing our Stories
Black Blanc Beur
Black Blanc Beur (Photo credit: looking4poetry)

Therapy and Racial Trauma   A friend forwarded me a link yesterday from Psychology Today yesterday regarding minorities and mental health treatment. The article discusses the mistreatment of minority patients in the treatment of race based traumas. I know all too well about this kind of thing as the most difficult step in getting help for mental illness can be findinga therapist who understands the kind of trauma that you are dealing with . In the last seven years I have been through at least four of them and I am still on the hunt here in DC to find someone that can understand the issues that I am dealing with and how to help. I am constantly working in therapy to help with my self esteem issues and I remember going to a therapist in 2008 and when we began to discuss my childhood, I remember the therapist asking me, why would I feel discriminated against by other African Americans when they were indeed African Americans. She clearly had not heard of colorism, so that was my second and last visit to her because I need a therapist that at least has an inkling of what I am talking about. As a community, we are not known for getting help for mental illness, and I am afraid that therapist that do not take race based traumas seriously, will further deter people from getting the help that they need.   via Therapy and Racial Trauma | My Life Uncensored.

Racism can feel life-threatening… | Mind Garden Pathways

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology
George Meadows, "murderer & rapist,"...
George Meadows, “murderer & rapist,” lynched on scene of his last alleged crime. George Meadows was lynched at Pratt Mines (in Jefferson County) Alabama January 15 1889 http://oldhacks.blogspot.com/2008/02/legacy-of-willie-lynch.html (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Racism can feel life-threatening…

 

Posted on July 15, 2013 by psychwork

 

“One major factor in understanding PTSD in ethnoracial minorities is the impact of racism on emotional and psychological well-being. Racism continues to be a daily part of American culture, and racial barriers have an overwhelming impact on the oppressed. Much research has been conducted on the social, economic, and political effects of racism, but little research recognizes the psychological effects of racism on people of color (Carter, 2007).Chou, Asnaani, and Hofmann (2012) found that perceived racial discrimination was associated with increased mental disorders in African Americans, Hispanic Americans, and Asian Americans, suggesting that racism may in itself be a traumatic experience.”

 

This is a very thought-provoking piece on dealing with racism as a mental health professional.

 

via Racism can feel life-threatening… | Mind Garden Pathways.

 

Questlove’s stop-and-frisk testimony | Amy Goodman | Comment is free | theguardian.com

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology, Petty Tyrants, Racial Abuse

Hip-hop hit a milestone this week, turning 40 years old. The same week, federal district court Judge Shira Scheindlin, in a 195-page ruling, declared the New York Police Department’s practice of stop-and-frisk unconstitutional. Hip-hop and stop-and-frisk are central aspects of the lives of millions of people, especially black and Latino youths.

Ahmir Thompson was just two years old when hip-hop got its start in 1973, but already had shown his talent for music. Thompson is now known professionally as Questlove, an accomplished musician and producer, music director and drummer for the Grammy Award-winning hip-hop band the Roots, which is the house band on the NBC show “Late Night with Jimmy Fallon”. He and the Roots soon will move with Fallon to the even more popular “The Tonight Show”.

Despite his success, Questlove confronts racism in his daily life. But he has built a platform, a following, which he uses to challenge the status quo – like stop-and-frisk.

“There’s nothing like the first time that a gun is held on you,” Questlove told me. He was recalling the first time he was subjected to a stop-and-frisk:

I was coming home from teen Bible study on a Friday night … And we were driving home, and then, seconds later, on Washington Avenue in Philly, cops stopped us … I just remember the protocol. I remember my father telling me, ‘If you’re ever in this position, you’re to slowly keep your hands up.’

A quarter of a century later, just a few weeks ago, Questlove was heading home to Manhattan from Brooklyn after a weekly DJ gig. He was pulled over by the NYPD. He told me:

They walked up, asked to see license and registration. And it was like four of them with flashlights everywhere … They wanted to know, ‘Are you in a cab? Is this a cab? Where’s your New York taxi license?’ I have my own car, and I have my own driver.

He felt they were treating him like a drug don. He showed them his newly released memoir, Mo’ Meta Blues: The World According to Questlove, with its stylized, psychedelic portrait of him on the cover.

They looked, and they kind of had a meeting for five minutes. And then, it was like, ‘Oh, OK, you can go.’ But this happens all the time.

As when Questlove was campaigning for Obama with Jurnee Smollett, an actor on the hit vampire show, “True Blood”. He had bought a housewarming gift for his manager, and pulled over the car to take a phone call. He described what followed:

So I pulled over, talked, finished the conversation. Five cars stopped us, and pretty much that was the most humiliating experience, because, we had to get out the car. They made us spread on the car … [Jurnee’s] like, ‘This is unconstitutional! They’re not … this is an illegal search.’

But search they did. The next night, he and The Roots won another Grammy.

Between 2002 and 2012, the NYPD conducted more than 4.8 million stop-and-frisks. More than 80% of those targeted were black or Latino. Judge Sheindlin, in her decision, specifically criticized New York’s billionaire mayor, Michael Bloomberg, and his police commissioner, Ray Kelly. Kelly, who is said to be a candidate for Obama’s next secretary of Homeland Security, said:

What I find most disturbing and offensive about this decision is the notion that the NYPD engages in racial profiling.

I asked Questlove, with all he’s accomplished, what he is most proud of, and what he still hopes to do.

I’m extremely grateful to have survived – literally just survived, because, you know, I’m still wondering: Will anyone in the hip-hop culture ever make it to 65? Will we have our first hip-hop senior citizen?

The richest country in the world could and should inspire higher hopes than merely surviving. But for Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson and the hip-hop generation he represents, targeted by police policies like stop-and-frisk, it is no surprise. This is America in 2013.

• Denis Moynihan contributed research to this column

© 2013 Amy Goodman; distributed by King Features Syndicate

via Questlove’s stop-and-frisk testimony | Amy Goodman | Comment is free | theguardian.com.

Psychic Pain

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology

Treating Psychic Pain

 

Treating physical pain with drugs might also lessen psychic pain.

 

Published on May 28, 2013 by Professor Gary L. Wenk, Ph. D. in Your Brain on Food

 

The loss of someone you love hurts.  Losing your job is painful.  No one wants to be ignored because it brings on heartache, depression and possibly increase your chances of developing cancer or dementia. The field of psychoneuroimmunology has evolved to study the link between social and physical pain.  Obviously, to anyone who has experienced any of the above events in life, the link between psychic and physical pain is quite real and the symptoms are very difficult to treat.

During the evolution of our brain those areas that were once only responsible for experiencing the sensory component of pain slowly evolved to provide the sensations associated with the affective components of the experience.  Thus,the psychic ache that develops due to social isolation is often accompanied by headache, nausea, depression and loss of appetite.  Recently, psychologists from the University of Kentucky and The Ohio State University demonstrated that because these two systems overlap functionally and anatomically in the brain it might be possible to reduce the social pain experience by targeting the physical pain experience with common over-the-counter drugs.

Two different types of common analgesics, acetaminophen and ibuprofen (i.e. Tylenol and Advil), are capable of producing this combined benefit by enhancing the action of the brain’s endogenous marijuana neurotransmitter. A more recent study (May, 2013) by these same psychologists demonstrated that regular marijuana use reduced the experience of low self-worth and the incidence of major depressive episodes in lonely people. Their research supports the hypothesis that treating physical pain with simple over-the-counter drugs might lessen the psychic pain as well.

How are these simple over-the-counter drugs able to provide relief of psychic pain?  They enhance the action of anandamide.  Anandamide and the other marijuana-like chemicals in your brain are well known to control happiness and euphoria.  Once anandamide is released inside your brain it is rather quickly inactivated by specific enzymes. One of these enzymes is called cyclooxygenase (COX). Ibuprofen and acetaminophen inhibit the function of COX. Thus, taking these drugs may enhance the actions of anandamide and thereby mimic the effects of marijuana in your brain. Obviously, their action in the brain must be rather subtle; otherwise these products would no longer be so easily available.  Ultimately, targeting the biological mechanisms underlying the symptoms of loneliness might only require a trip to your corner drugstore.

© Gary L. Wenk, Ph.D., author of Your Brain on Food (Oxford Univ Press)

Regions of the cerebral cortex associated with...
Regions of the cerebral cortex associated with pain. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Perceived racism may impact black Americans’ mental health

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology, Challenges and Wounds, Health Disparities, Racial Abuse

Perceived racism may impact black Americans’ mental health

November 16, 2011 in Psychology & Psychiatry

For black American adults, perceived racism may cause mental health symptoms similar to trauma and could lead to some physical health disparities between blacks and other populations in the United States, according to a new study published by the American Psychological Association.

While previous studies have found links between racism and mental health, this is the first meta-analysis on the subject focusing exclusively on black American adults, according to the study published online in APA’s Journal of Counseling Psychology.

“We focused on black American adults because this is a population that has reported, on average, more incidents of racism than other racial minority groups and because of the potential links between racism and not only mental health, but physical health as well,” said lead author Alex Pieterse, PhD, of the University at Albany, State University of New York.

Researchers examined 66 studies comprising 18,140 black adults in the United States. To be included in the analysis, a study must have been published in a peer-reviewed journal or dissertation between 1996 and 2011; include a specific analysis of mental health indicators associated with racism; and focus specifically on black American adults in the United States.

Black Americans’ psychological responses to racism are very similar to common responses to trauma, such as somatization, which is psychological distress expressed as physical pain; interpersonal sensitivity; and anxiety, according to the study. Individuals who said they experienced more and very stressful racism were more likely to report mental distress, the authors said.

While the researchers did not collect data on the impacts on physical health, they cite other studies to point out that perceived racism may also affect black Americans’ physical health.

“The relationship between perceived racism and self-reported depression and anxiety is quite robust, providing a reminder that experiences of racism may play an important role in the health disparities phenomenon,” Pieterse said. “For example, African-Americans have higher rates of hypertension, a serious condition that has been associated with stress and depression.”

The authors recommended that therapists assess racism experiences as part of standard procedure when treating black Americans, and that future studies focus on how discrimination is perceived in specific settings, such as work, online or in school.

More information: Full text of the article is available at http://www.apa.org … pieterse.pdf

Provided by American Psychological Association search and more info website

via Perceived racism may impact black Americans’ mental health.

Do Better, Be Better: Living with Race Trauma – Wellness & Empowerment – EBONY

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology, Challenges and Wounds, Writing our Stories

If you’re Black in America, it’s very likely that you live with one of two plaguing feelings:

At any moment your rights can violated and you’ll be powerless to defend yourself legally or physically.

At any moment the rights of someone you love will be violated and you will be powerless to defend them legally or physically.

Now if you were Caucasian, this phenomenon would be widely accepted as a source of major psychological trauma (an emotional injury resulting form an extremely stressful or life threatening situation). There would likely be a series of specialized programs, resources or mainstreamed evidence based practices devised to help cope with the persistent exposure — just think about the seminars they have at suburban schools when a student commit suicide — and you’d be put on meds.

But for African Americans, it’s just life.

We are used to living in fear. We have grown accustomed to being preyed upon. Worst of all, we have learned to de-value our lives so much that it is now acceptable for us to kill each other. Our boys openly lament about doubting they will live past 25 years old. We brag about serving punitive consequences for antisocial behaviors. Our youth — and adults —openly deface our communities with graffiti, litter and urine. We don’t mandate marriage, a universal social security, before — or after —procreation. This is not what being Black, African or African-American is about.

This is about the lack of hope — due to trauma. This is about the repercussions of generations of people being exposed to persistent fear, anxiety and abuse. This is the result of having dreams of fair integration shattered. The effect of introducing drugs to mothers of a community. The impact of purposefully robbing men of their core source of pride: The ability to provide and lead. Most African-Americans are traumatized. Sadly, not enough have the natural resources to combat it wholly.

I’d love to say there’s an easy answer to eradicating trauma — but I won’t lie to you. The fact is each person has to decide how he/she wants to cope with it in their lives (counseling, support groups, self-education/awareness), and whether they are willing to pass on their knowledge to their circle and beyond. If we truly want to do better, be better, we have a bitter pill to swallow: Black Americans, collectively, are not winning. And yet, there is a bright side: We have the power to change it.

Do better, be better. Talk to me at dobetter@ebony.com.

via [COLUMN] Do Better, Be Better: Living with Race Trauma – Wellness & Empowerment – EBONY.

When ‘I’ in First-Person Narrative Didn’t Apply to African-Americans

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology, Narratives of the Enslaved, Writing our Stories
black rose 1
black rose 1 (Photo credit: Melinda Taber)

Once in a while, college teaching breaks out of the staid, authoritative lecturer/rapt audience model and assumes a raw ideal of rapid and spontaneous engagement between teacher and students. The engagement is live and open-ended and the information firing back and forth isn’t necessarily pleasant or encouraging or even obviously related to the topic of the class on that particular day. But it’s education for sure.

I recently presented a lecture at a local university that I thought straightforward and factual, though potentially controversial because it involved race. I’m teaching nonfiction writing and thought it would be useful to discuss the politics behind the first-person “I” narrator that frames so much nonfiction writing, especially memoir and personal essays.

We assume the use of “I” is a simple declaration of the self, the rock-solid point from which every story flows. “I” is also an affirmation of individualism that Americans hold so dear, and in that way a democratic institution in the literary world — I write, therefore I am equal to all other writers. But I wanted to show how the whole concept of “I” and the self-affirmation it’s meant to confer never applied to African-Americans.

For much of our history, the notion of an inviolate black self was not only absent in literature (and everywhere else), it was actually against the law. Law and custom prevented blacks from claiming authority over their own lives. The whole concept of an empowered, inherently worthy ‘I’ was therefore a joke at worst, fragmented at best. That legacy is still with us; for blacks, personal stories almost always have broader social meaning tied to a legacy of white supremacy that has told them in one way or another how they should see and interpret themselves. For nonfiction writing, getting out from under this “narrative oppression” is a rich and complicated subject.

While I hardly expected to resolve ancient racial problems, I assumed the conversation would be provocative and lively. It was that, but much more than that — it was hostile. This happened immediately. Ten minutes into the lecture white students chafed at the very notion of oppression and a vocal few wanted to shut down both the message, and the messenger. Several students took offense to this and subtly and not so subtly accused the doubters of racism.

via When ‘I’ in First-Person Narrative Didn’t Apply to African-Americans | Commentary | SoCal Focus | KCET.

Compassion

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology, Challenges and Wounds

The other day I was out walking my son in his stroller (my now constant occupation) when a homeless woman approached me asking for money. I’d seen her before in the neighborhood many times, including behind our condominium using drugs. I turned down her request and continued walking as if the wind had blown a newspaper against my leg and I’d kicked it away without any thought.

I used to get angry at strangers who asked me for money, projecting onto to them a rage I actually felt toward myself for having such a difficult time turning them down. Then I learned to set boundaries comfortably and my anger gave way to inconsistency: I’d sometimes acquiesce to requests for money and sometimes not, the likelihood of one or the other depending randomly on my mood, how much I believed their story or how much it entertained me, or my belief about what it meant to be compassionate at the time.
Given that at least one study has suggested roughly 95% of homeless men suffer from some type of mental disorder (substance abuse being the most common by far) and that numerous other studies have shown similar, if somewhat less dramatic, results depending on study methodology and the city studied, my standard response now is to refuse all requests for money, believing as I now do that money is not the best long-term, or even short-term, solution to help the homeless. Yet each time I’m asked, I wonder again about what it means to be compassionate, and my recent encounter with our neighborhood homeless woman caused me to reflect again how I continue to fail to live up to my aspiration to consistently manifest the compassion of which I’m capable.

Alex

Greg Says:

May 20, 2009 at 9:20 am
Having a drug addiction does not mean someone isn’t worthy of your compassion or loose change. And living in your alley is precisely why you’re giving her money in the first place. You have been blessed with success and affluence while many people around you suffer and starve. To dismiss them because they take drugs to cope with their situation is not compassion.

Many people are addicted to alcohol and prescription drugs. Yet, our society teaches us that those addicts are better than the addicts which take cheap drugs in allies to escape the reality of life.

Rather than sitting in judgment of the homeless in your neighborhood, try accepting them for who they are. Whether someone spends your 25 cents on McDonald’s, drugs, or real food. Does it really matter? Is it not their right as a human being to make their own choices?

If her drug habit really bothers you so much, there are plenty of ways you could help. A gift card for example. I don’t have money to give, but when I do, I share. Not very much, but a little.

Greg: I think you misunderstood where I was coming from in my post. I was attempting to be honest about the difficulty I have in mustering up compassionate action in certain circumstances. If I came across as being dismissive of the homeless woman who approached me, that wasn’t my intent. I FEEL great compassion for her but am frustrated by my own inability to take what I consider to be compassionate ACTION toward her, which in my view makes my feeling compassion for her worthless to her and to me. But I remind myself that compassion must be developed and nurtured, which is essentially why I practice Buddhism. I truly don’t judge her addiction to drugs, and her habit only bothers me in that I believe she’d be happier without it and that those around her would be, too. And it does matter to me where someone spends my “25 cents” just as it matters to me where the government spends my tax dollars. If I’d contributed money, even inadvertantly, to a terrorist organization, I would feel a sense of responsibility for that organization’s ability to terrorize. By giving a homeless drug addict the means to continue her addiction, which I believe due to my personal and professional experience leads directly away from happiness, I would then be contributing to her misery and not her happiness, and that is definitely not compassion in my book. As I pointed out in the post, compassion applied without wisdom can often create more misery than it resolves.

Best,
Alex

Judy Says:

May 20, 2009 at 10:12 am
Very thought provoking, Alex, as always. I’m so glad I found your blog. I understand your wish to engage with people who need help, but you had your infant with you. Perhaps not getting involved was the best choice for safety’s sake, even if the homeless lady is someone you know, just a bit. I give fast food coupons to people who ask for assistance. At least I know they can’t be used for anything else.

Judy: You raise an important point about safety I thought about but didn’t mention in the post. Fast food coupons are a nice idea. I think that what constitutes the most compassionate action a person could take will depend on what that person feels they have to offer. For me, it isn’t money, but something that would require more time and effort on my part to impart. I continue to struggle to challenge myself to more consistently impart it. This just represents the current boundary of my growth. Thanks for your comment and compliment on the blog.

Alex

mar Says:

May 20, 2009 at 10:07 pm
Thank you for your thoughtful post. Interactions with homeless or requests for money happen to all of us and pose the question, how will we respond? When this happens to me, I assess the need, as you said the Buddha would do. Sometimes, it is offhand, someone just collecting change without conviction. Sometimes, I feel panhandled. And sometimes, I hear or see the need there. I tell them I don’t carry cash, but I can go buy them food, or what it is they need at a nearby convenience store. It is what I would do for myself. One woman I remember took me up on my offer and we talked as we walked to CVS—an unlikely pair. She asked for a drink, chips, cough syrup, and then asked if she could get batteries: her cassette Walkman which she held, had died.

To me, happenstance is the only difference between us—our means, and that is transient. And batteries—for music—and cough syrup to stop coughing were her needs. $12 well spent. Her needs met were both our happiness. So, often, I am thankful for what someone asks of me, because I could not have felt the way I did without her.

Peace—

Nina Says:

May 21, 2009 at 4:32 am
I am pleased to find your thoughts on being compassionate. Acting in a selfless manner, yet being able to decipher what is truly helpful to that other person. I work with autistic kids and find that the stronger the disciplinary action/consequence to bad behavior the better. I let them know that I care for them and want them to learn to do better. So punishing is not such a bad thing but is actually compassionate. I’m trying to think of a way to allow the kids to be in their autistic world though and drift into their own imaginations without so many terrible consequences. When they need to function like other kids, I need to remind them. This helps me continue feeling compassionate for them.

Lots of interesting and thoughtful ideas on the subject. Thanks for posting.

Camilla Onell Says:

May 21, 2009 at 5:15 pm
Alex,

Thank you so much for this post and for your comment on my blog.

As it turns out, your thoughts on what compassion isn’t was exactly what I needed to read right now. Very confronting. I guess I know this already but I’m not living this truth at all. I am far too often giving people what they want. Still pleasing too much. And I needed to be reminded of that. Time for a change!

I will definitely follow your blog from now on.

Camilla

Mary Elaine Kiener Says:

May 22, 2009 at 7:38 pm
Thanks for a lovely essay. Reminded me of a time during my late husband’s illness when I had the opportunity to explore the concept of compassion in a more direct way. A wonderful lesson at the time, and a timely reminder now.
me

The Good Guy Contract « Happiness in this World Says:

May 24, 2009 at 7:05 pm
[…] Be compassionate. Freed of the need to be liked, I can now contemplate compassionate action motivated only by the desire to add to the happiness of another person and not by the imperative to sustain my self-esteem, which makes it far more likely my actions will be wisely compassionate as I discussed in a previous post, What Compassion Is. […]

Nicki Says:

May 25, 2009 at 3:30 pm
Excellent blog. I always enjoy your posts.

Just my two cents: I used to work in an area with a very poor population and a lot of homelessness. I had frequent requests for money to buy food. It made me feel bad to refuse if there was a real need. So I came up with a compromise. I always offered to go to the within-walking-distance grocery store with the person so they could pick out what they needed or to the nearby McDonalds. No one ever took me up on the offer.

Nicki: Such a difficult and complex problem, homelessness. I admire you for your efforts. Must have been difficult not to become jaded, having your offer to buy food rejected so consistently. Thanks for your comment.

Alex

rdp Says:

May 26, 2009 at 11:20 am
I am coming very late to this conversation, and perhaps my questions aren’t pertinent to the particular issue you try to grapple with here, Alex. Still, I’m offering the following:

I may be too much of a literalist, but, to me, compassion means suffering with. I don’t think it has much—if anything—to do with caring for the happiness of another. Rather, it’s about that moment of recognition in which you see yourself in the other person (or vice versa). It is almost impossible for me to avoid this reaction with people who are less fortunate than I am because, like “mar,” I feel in my gut that “happenstance is the only difference between us—our means, and that is transient.” It has taken me many years to be brave enough to do what mar does, but it does feel like exactly the right thing. I do not give cash, but ask what is needed. It is a very, very small thing, but I have never felt as if I showed my daughter something as important as when I engaged with a panhandler this way. Of course, one must assess the situation and risk, but to try to respond with humanity seems, to me, the real challenge. If you met a former neighbor homeless on the street, wouldn’t you ask what s/he needed? Even if s/he were a drug addict? And all of these people were once someone’s neighbor, someone’s child.

What troubles me more—and more frequently, usually daily :^—is how to cultivate compassion for privileged people who remain oblivious to the consequences their self-centeredness visits upon others. While I can, in theory, view them as spiritually impoverished, they do so much more damage to the common good than do panhandlers, I end up feeling that “compassion” for them is misplaced. How on earth can you offer compassion to someone who regards him/herself as superior and who feels no discomfort on account of being oblivious? Is the answer simply to ignore them until they become aware of their own suffering?

rdp: Reasonable people can of course disagree. As I wrote in the post, what you define as compassion I would define as empathy, which absolutely often accompanies compassion (and perhaps is a necessary pre-condition), but perhaps my response to your last question about the privileged will delineate the distinction best: I can have compassion (that is, care about the happiness of the privileged) because their self-centeredness is, in my view, merely the result of a different set of delusions that brings a homeless person to homelessness. People of privilege aren’t necessarily happier than anyone else—and often are quite a bit less so. In my view, EVERYONE regardless of station in life is deserving of compassion, deserves to be happy, and deserves our empathy. Certainly harder to muster for people who seem to be only concerned with themselves, but if you accept my notion that anyone can suffer regardless of life station, why should we have empathy and compassion (as I define them) only for people who meet certain requirements (eg-exclude those who are selfish)? Even selfish people “were once (perhaps your) neighbor and were once someone’s child.” Thanks as always for such a thought-provoking comment.

Best,
Alex

rdp Says:

May 26, 2009 at 12:49 pm
And so frequently do!

I think our disagreement arises out of the definition of compassion. The standard (OED) meaning is “1. Participation in another’s suffering; fellow-feeling; sympathy. 2. Pity inclining one to show mercy or give aid. 3. Sorrowful emotion, grief.”

Caring about the happiness of another, I don’t believe, relates to this. Perhaps we could agree on the term “loving,” which at least in one of its senses “manifests itself in concern for the person’s welfare….?” It’s easier for me, at least, to think of it this way. I think we must be compassionate to all who suffer and try to cultivate a loving attitude to everyone else—even those who don’t. But I really struggle to do this in specific instances, where you see the obliviousness taking a toll on people who are already suffering. Or so it seems to me…..

Grateful, as always, for your caring presence here.

rdp: I guess with respect to compassion I’m moving away from the dictionary definition and more towards a philosophical definition. However, I agree with you about the relevance of the term “loving,” which in fact is what I think compassion is all about (and maybe therefore why it’s so hard to define). “Concern for the other person’s welfare”—yes, exactly. I’m just not so sure one needs to suffer themselves in order to feel that for another. Glad there are people like you out there thinking seriously about these issues and trying to embody good and right action when they can.

Best,
Alex

jrs Says:

May 26, 2009 at 3:21 pm
What a coincidence. Just this morning I gave $2 to an old woman huddled between her overflowing grocery cart of possessions and the wall of building. She didn’t ask me for it—my heart just went out to her and I felt I had to so something, so I did. After all, what does two bucks mean to me? Even if I will be unemployed come July 1.

jrs: I sure don’t have the solution to homelessness but that people like you who are about to become unemployed still find the impulse to try to help others even less fortunate than themselves gives me hope.

Best,
Alex

carey Says:

June 5, 2009 at 7:19 pm
I know that your post is about compassion, but I would like to reframe one part of it in the context of generosity.

Generosity is related to compassion, in that compassion is one major motivation that results in the (often concrete, tangible) manifestation of generosity. Other motivations for generosity, such as fear of what the neighbors think, result in what we might call “false generosity,” whereas compassion results in genuine generosity.

Compassion is always abstract and invisible; generosity can be visible or invisible, abstract or concrete. Generosity can help other people. Compassion simply reflects one’s internal perspective, and can’t help anyone until it manifests in the action of generosity.

Compassion is like a general who stands outside the fray and watches the violence, feeling bad for the poor suckers who are involved.

Generosity is like the doctor who risks his/her life running onto the battlefield to try to save the lives of the wounded.

Without wanting to offend you, but in an attempt to shed another light on the topic here, your compassion serves nobody but you.

It seems that by labeling the homeless person as a “drug user” your heart permits you to exile her. What if she wanted to use your money for her morning coffee? As a doctor, surely you must know that caffeine is a drug. It makes people feel better.

You label drug addiction a mental disorder, but there are many experts who would not agree with that label. Once again, I have to ask if caffeine addiction is a mental disorder as well, and if so, if caffeine users are not worthy of our financial generosity because they would just buy more coffee.

Your generosity has many strings attached. That is not true generosity. You are judging which ways of seeking happiness are acceptable to you, and placing your standards on other people. If you can’t allow her to spend the money on whatever she believes will relieve her pain or contribute to her happiness, your generosity is very limited. You have insufficient trust of other living beings. You do not permit freedom of choice or philosophy.

If someone wants to deal with the suffering of this life by using drugs, that is unacceptable to you, since your philosophy doesn’t agree with drug use. (Though, of course, it does—however, the types of drugs are limited. Tea, chocolate, and even alcohol and nicotine are presumably acceptable drugs to ease the pain of existence, whereas cocaine and heroin are unacceptable…because they are stronger? Does your heart have such limits?)

I think that you just wrote this to assuage the pain of your own conscience due to your inability to be generous with a fellow human being in need. You were overly judgmental, and decided that she wasn’t worthy of your generosity. Now, you (appropriately) are suffering due to the walls your have built surrounding your inner heart—the walls you construct each time you meet a person in dire need and turn them away, based on your judgments.

Drugs are one way that people try to deal with the suffering of life. Certain patterns of attitudes, some very negative, are another. Would you refuse to help a starving person because they often created negative thoughts, and by supporting their food habit, you would be permitting them to continue their negativity?

If you want to see true generosity, look to the sun. It gives its energy in every direction, regardless of whether someone or something is there to receive it. The pure love of the sun is what I aspire to.

By the way, you are not the only one who is scared of homeless people. Many people are deeply afraid that homelessness and poverty (and other types of suffering) will spread like a disease, and “contaminate” their own lives. Hence, they avoid homeless people “like the plague” (an apt metaphor here).

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VIDEO + AUDIO: India.Arie’s Return Is As Smooth As ‘Cocoa Butter’ » SOULBOUNCE-COM – NEO•GRIOT

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in Healing Techniques

Last night, a collective cry of joy erupted from the internet when India.Arie took to Twitter to confirm that she indeed had new music ready and that the first track to be released would be “Cocoa Butter.” For India.Arie fans, her return has been a long time coming, and after making that announcement she didn’t make them endure much more waiting before giving them their first listen. Barely able to contain her excitement about the song and her forthcoming album, SongVersation, India.Arie tweeted, “its been a LONG! LONG! road here #COCOABUTTER by @_SHANNONSANDERS and ME!” Singing, “your love is like cocoa butter on my heart,” she praises the healing and protective benefits of a love that has smoothed over her emotional scars. If you’re overexposed and in need of a little restoration, India.Arie’s got the musical salve for your soul.

via VIDEO + AUDIO: India.Arie’s Return Is As Smooth As ‘Cocoa Butter’ » SOULBOUNCE-COM – NEO•GRIOT.

Daily Kos: They sang, they motivated and they mobilized

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology, Challenges and Wounds, Healing Techniques, Liberation, Social Justice, Spirituality

Daily Kos: They sang, they motivated and they mobilized.

Posterous will turn off on April 30, 2013

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology

Posterous Spaces

Hi pepi551feta,

Posterous launched in 2008. Our mission was to make it easier to share photos and connect with your social networks. Since joining Twitter almost one year ago, we’ve been able to continue that journey, building features to help you discover and share what’s happening in the world – on an even larger scale.

On April 30th, we will turn off posterous.com and our mobile apps in order to focus 100% of our efforts on Twitter. This means that as of April 30, Posterous Spaces will no longer be available either to view or to edit.

Right now and over the next couple months until April 30th, you can download all of your Posterous Spaces including your photos, videos, and documents.

Here are the steps:

If you want to move your site to another service, WordPress and Squarespace offer importers that can move all of your content over to either service. Just remember: you need to back up your Spaces by April 30.

We’d like to thank the millions of Posterous users who have supported us on our incredible journey. We hope to provide you with as easy a transition as possible, and look forward to seeing you on Twitter. Thank you.

Sachin Agarwal, Founder and CEO

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Dark Days: Life in Crack City

by vanessa mahmoud, posted in African American Psychology, Challenges and Wounds, Trauma Survivors, Writing our Stories

Dark Days: Life in Crack City.Crack killed everything.”
– Nas, 2012

It was a chilly spring night in 1984 and I was returning uptown from my cashier job at Miss Brooks, a fast food coffee shop located near Rockefeller Center. Working from four to midnight, after closing a few of the staff usually went out for drinks. By two a.m., I’d downed one more pint before walking over to Columbus Circle with the short order cook Xavier.

Although we both lived on 151 Street off Broadway, Xavier was a recent transplant from the Bronx and I had dwelled in that neighborhood since I was four. Today that nether world between Harlem and Washington Heights is now “Hamilton Heights,” but in those days, we didn’t really call it anything but home.

When I moved there in 1967, the working class neighborhood was a literal melting pot of races, religions and cultures that included southern Blacks, like my grandmother, holdover Jewish families who hadn’t migrated to Long Island, more than a few Puerto Ricans and two Asian families.

Like some kind of urban coming-of-age novel, I have fond childhood memories of 151st Street and apartment 1-E, many that include the array of friends who lived in our building at 628. Boys and girls together, we played stickball in the street, had Saturday afternoon trips to the Tapia movie theater, where we watched Blaxploitation and kung-fu flicks, and crowded into each other’s apartments where we spun the latest soul records, watched cartoons and had sleepovers.