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Tara Cousineau, PhD

Clinical Psychologist, Kindness Warrior

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Rants & Raves

Unblocked: Seeing Clearly Our Structural Racism

June 5, 2020 by Tara Cousineau Leave a Comment

A reflection

In a world with two pandemics raging side by side and which are inescapably intertwined, we can’t help but see the social, racial, and health disparities. In our neighborhoods we see circles of compassion beginning to widen.

Franklin Park, Boston MA

June 5, 2020. Journal entry.

It’s hard to know what rush hour is these days when the world has slowed down. Around 5:45pm on a Thursday we parked the old cracked silver Prius on the corner of Ferncroft and Norman, just west of Blue Hill Avenue, where we were headed. My husband Steve and I were carrying the cardboard signs our daughters had created and used on the prior Tuesday at another peaceful protest at Franklin Park. That night I held my breath for several hours as my own implicit biases and fears ignited about the danger of being in large crowds. Sophie and Josie shared their location by cell phone without my not even asking. In fact, I have never tracked my kids like other parents often do. Now they are young women and quite clear about the dangers in the world. It may be too many episodes of Crime Junkies or My Favorite Murder, but nevertheless, I appreciated the gesture.  

On this June evening, it was just white mom and dad with face masks and posters congregating peacefully with others on the Blue Hill Parkway meridian connecting Milton and Mattapan, suburb of the city. As we walked through a neighborhood, people were piling into the streets, with their children in strollers, and middle schoolers on bikes as if this were a Fourth of July parade or an opening scene out of some romantic comedy.

A parent we know from the former track team days was a community captain with her bike in hand, wearing a black shirt, shorts, and a helmet. She explained to those of us on this patch of earth that at 6:15pm people at the Canton Avenue end would take a knee and others would then follow suit.  “Like a human wave?” I asked. She nodded and diligently headed on to the next socially distanced cluster. Across the street stood a group of three Asian American teens in midriff tees and cell phones as their grandmother observed from the front porch with folded arms. Their signs: Defund the Police | Black Lives Matter |Do Justice, Love Kindness, Walk Humbly with God #BLM.

Cars in both directions were making their way, honking their horns, holding out their phones videoing the scene. There are many black people in this neighborhood, as were those passing through this stretch in their cars. This diversity has always made me grateful in raising my kids, even though it frustrated me to no end that the blacks kids walked to the high school, while many white kids drove in with their cars at the other side of the campus. 

One car passed by with two girls sitting on the sun roof holding a sign, Different Name, Same Crime.  I saw a blue Amazon Prime delivery van make a right out of a side street. The driver, a young black woman with sunglasses and braids, did not know what she was getting into.  Surprised, she slowly raised her hand to her mouth and started to cry. I saw her about 3 minutes later come from the other direction talking excitedly into her phone to someone describing the scene with her one hand on the steering wheel. Next to us was a man and his daughter, about 4 years old. She was holding up a rainbow lettered sign, My Life Matters.

Poster No. 6 (c) 2020 Josie Cousineau

After some time the crowds began to drop to their knees and all became quiet except for the cars with the unsuspecting drivers who honked as they passed on either side.  8 minutes 46 seconds. George Floyd’s last minutes.

One man driving along peered out his window, looking us in the eye as he slowed down. He kept nodding to people and saying Thank you Thank you. My mask hid my tears. When the long minutes of silence were over people slowly got up and dusted themselves off. The beeps continued. As we turned to walk back across the street there was the Amazon driver making another round, still talking to someone and wiping tears from a cheek.

Now I know these vigils are but meager efforts in the work that needs to be done to eradicate 400 years of structural racism. Meager in the face of our day-to-day lives and forcing many of us to notice who is delivering our packages, bagging the groceries, applying for unemployment, and dying in unequal numbers every day. Yet there is something happening in our neighborhoods and that feels different.

I have more hope. I watched an interview with Reverend Bernice King, Martin Luther King’s daughter. She was asked in the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder if anything has really changed in 50 years and about her understanding of the current protests: Is this moment any different? She paused:

“I do think it’s different…There are more circles of people now, in the white community, who are looking at white supremacy… This is a moment of opportunity… People are crying out and this cry is being heard all over this land and all over this world.” 

Rev. Bernice King
Poster No.5 (c) 2020 Josie Cousineau

Awareness, of course is not enough, but it is an essential step in making change. Rev. Bernice King declared that the moment is here to call on white people to challenge other white people. She said white people’s hearts and souls are opening. And there is much work to be done.

I know somewhere in this crowd of neighbors was a spiritual teacher and friend, who creates singing circles to bring people together.  I belong to one of them. She was there with her mixed race kids but I couldn’t find her. The evening before I was among a zoom circle of women, a gathering to care for our hearts and souls by singing. She brought in the work of Joanna Macy, the great spiritual ecologist and founder of the Work That Reconnects (WTR). Macy describes The Great Turning, an awakening to the dis-ease on our planet; and one of the assumptions of the work is our deep connection to one another.

Our experience of moral pain for our world springs from our interconnectedness with all beings, including humans of all cultures, from which also arise our powers to act on their behalf. When we deny or repress our pain for the world, or view it as a private pathology, our power to take part in the healing of our world is diminished. Our capacity to respond to our own and others’ suffering — that is, the feedback loops that weave us into life — can be unblocked.

The Work That Reconnects

Important realities are getting “unblocked” for white people. Finally. Circles of compassion are widening. Block after block we are standing on lawns, sidewalks, street meridians, in parks and streets all over. There is no more turning away — only a turning toward to what has been there all along. Seeing clearly.


Compassion When It’s Not Easy, a meditation (Insight Timer)

#VoteKindness Project. Check it out

On Being Podcast with Krista Tippet, a conversation with Rev. Lucas Johnson: Living the questions when no questions seem big enough

Resources on becoming an anti-racist ally are listed here.

Artwork and photo (c) 2020 Josie Cousineau

Filed Under: Compassion, Courage, Inspirations, Kindness, Parenting, Rants & Raves Tagged With: compassion, empathy, inequities, peace, protest, race

I shall not be moved

July 9, 2018 by Tara Cousineau Leave a Comment

I shall not be moved.

On my wall hangs a signed copy of Dr. Maya Angelou’s poem Our Grandmothers. I bid on the 8×11” piece of paper at an auction at Boston’s Institute for Contemporary Art in 1993 when it was housed in an old fire station on Boylston Street. The ICA was raising funds for AIDS relief and research. I was a grad student living off loans and hardly in the position to bid on art.  But the Angelou poem on linen resume paper got my attention. A voice inside me said, “Hold up your auction number already!” Meekly, raised my paddle. To my surprise I kept poking up my hand. Do I hear $10? Do I hear $15? In the end I paid $100 (and twice that for the frame).

She gathered her babies,

Their tears slick as oil on black faces,

Their young eyes canvassing mornings of madness.

Momma, is Master going to sell you

from us tomorrow?

The poem is placed above my framed doctorate degree. After 25 years both documents are faded and musty. Whatever they are worth today, emotional or otherwise, they remain symbolic. Maybe more so today as a daughter of an immigrant mother from post WWII West Germany. I am a first generation college graduate. My husband and I are now launching our girls into the world. Not without some reservation, I might add. They are young women living in rather strange times in the very land of opportunity to which my mother fled and my husband’s French Canadian ancestors settled to farm or work in textile mills. I find myself apologizing for the burdens their generation will bear in spite of amazing progress. It seems we are taking some steps back. But what’s a mother to do?

So I turn to wise elders. Every once in a while I stand before Our Grandmothers with my chin angled and eyes squinting. Angelou’s poem is strangely beautiful, fierce, heartbreaking yet hopeful. (You can read it in full.) The poem was inspired  by an old spiritual turned into a protest song. I look up at Angelou’s words with a kind of reverence and also a basic incomprehension of the plight of slavery, of black women, and how history can’t help but repeat itself. Many images arise. The German holocaust. The Rwandan genocide. Syrian refugees. How dare I, however, relate to a poem about black women and generations of oppression. I will never pretend to know. Yet, a mother am I. Empathy, after all, enables us to imagine ourselves into the lives of others.

Yearning to Breath Free by Barry Blitt (c) The New Yorker July 2, 2018

As I watched the news about the children being separated from parents at the borderland, I am drawn to her poem again. In the haze of the summer heat, Angelou’s words mesmerize. Several stanzas scream out.

No angel stretched protecting wings

above the heads of her children,

fluttering and urging the winds of reason

into the confusions of their lives.

The sprouted like young weeds,

but she could not shield their growth

from the grinding blades of ignorance, nor

shape them into symbolic topiaries.

She sent them away,

underground, overland, in coaches and shoeless.

There was another line of text that moved me recently in a news story on the 4th of July: “Therese Patricia Okoumou, of Staten Island, was arrested after scaling the base of the statue and taking up temporary residence on Lady Liberty’s right foot.”

I clicked the news feed for more. Sure enough. Upon the grand topiary of New York Harbor, the Statue of Liberty, was a small human figure seated at the folds of her green copper cloak.

I shall not be moved.

Captivated, I watched the footage. Who was this person? Here was someone who embodied the spirit of many people today, like me, resisting the irrational policies of our nation but with much more nerve. That she would not be moved was a thrilling example of compassion in action.

Just days before, like many others, I had joined in yet another protest march, #FamiliesBelongTogether. Volunteers were handing out bottles of water. Local leaders gave speeches. Chants of “This is what democracy looks like!” could be heard in waves. I held my worn out sign from previous marches.  I poked my arm up and down like an auction paddle. Be Kind, Be Brave. Dripping in sweat I lamented, Will this march make a damn difference? In the center of my poster board is image of a black girl under the title Women are Perfect. It was created by muralist Jessica Sabogal in partnership with Amplifier.org for the Women’s March in 2017. My husband had made easy-to-carry sign for me then.  It seems to have multiple lives.

Will this march make a difference? The lament circled in my mind. Maybe it was the heat. It’s exhausting to bear witness to the creepy erosion of basic liberties, the seeds of fascism finding root. Moving along the crowds I found myself behind a young man waving his poster, History Teachers Against Repeating History. Another sign appeared in the far distance: And then the children.

and I shall not, I shall not be moved.

I hopped on a concrete wall looking at the crowds. Impressed yet not quite hopeful. Then a mother with her daughter asked to take a photo of my sign. “Do you know the child in your poster is Maya? That’s her name and she’s seven years old. She’s a friend of ours. Her name is Maya.” The mother was insistent. “Her name is Maya. Maya.” Thank you for telling me.

Women Are Perfect (c) 2017 Jessica Sabogal

Back home I looked up at Our Grandmothers and wondered if the child depicted in Sabogal’s protest poster was named after the poet. The mother at the march really wanted me to know the girl had a name. It matters. At a poetry reading given by late Dr. Angelou she implored us to love our ancestors for they named us and loved us before we were even born.

Children behind wired fences have names, too.

Like the woman at the foot of Lady Liberty. Therese Patricia Okoumou. She was asking us to care. She was showing us that when people go low, we can go high.  Our grandmothers demand this of us.

The Divine upon my right

impels me to pull forever

at the latch of Freedom’s gate.

The Holy Spirit upon my left leads my

feet without ceasing into the camp of the

righteous and into the tents of the free.

I reconsidered my doubts. Every human has a name. Every step makes a difference. Every chant breaks the silence. Raising your hand up in protest matters. It’s what Dr. Maya Angelou called the nobleness of the human spirit. It’s what democracy looks like.

Lay aside your fears that I will be undone, for I shall not be moved.

 

 

Appreciation for Maya Angelou

 

Featured Image:
Luke Stackpoole

Filed Under: Compassion, Courage, Empathy, Inspirations, Kindness, Mothers & Daughters, Promises to Myself, Rants & Raves

Love Thy Neighbor

June 24, 2018 by Tara Cousineau Leave a Comment

 

I joke when I say I belong to the church of Mr. Fred Rogers. People close me know how much I admire the late great TV host and often send me quotes, vids or articles about him. So when my husband and I went to the local community theatre to see the new documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, it was as much about being a flock member of his media ministry as it was much needed relief from the recent weeks in our country. Images of children separated from their families and behind wired fences is nothing short of a battle cry for compassion, care and reason. Of course, children the world over are suffering in unconscionable ways. Somehow it hurts more when it’s closer to home and under our country’s watch.

We need you Mr. Rogers.

I was three years old when the first season of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood aired. I was five when I got a FAO Schwarz stuffed animal for Christmas, a spotted leopard named Rango. To me he was a kindred spirit to puppet Daniel Striped Tiger and he soaked up buckets of snot and tears. Decades later Rango was adopted by my youngest daughter, although not with the same passion I once held as a lifeline. Even one glance at the now floppy cub, who is relegated to a bookshelf, infuses me with a love so big that I grin with gratitude every time.

Fabulous reviews about this Rogers documentary abound and you will simply have to see it for yourself. It is a salve for our times. The subtitle is “A little kindness makes a world of difference.”  We all know that’s true. It’s just harder to implement on a moment-to-moment basis as seems warranted now.

When I say it’s you I like, I’m talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch. That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive. Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed. – Fred Rogers

Mr. Rogers didn’t creep me out like some say. I was the perfect age for his pace of teaching and doctrine of love. I needed calm and consistency in order to deal with big questions I could only feel rather than understand when my family was breaking apart. We might all benefit from slowing down enough to listen to our own hearts and hear our own breath.

Fred Rogers’ kindness was fierce and compelling, soft and hard, timeless and true. He respected children: their vulnerability, imagination, and curiosity.  He believed that what mattered — an enduring empathy and respect for the human condition — in all its variations, was also “invisible to the eye.” This is the subtle caring that inhabits the spaces between and within each other. I imagine this belief was also a nod to the 1943 children’s book, The Little Prince, that also impressed me so:

And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Mr. Rogers showed us that there is good in this world and we can be part of it: Love Thy Neighbor. Love Thy Self. His numerology was: 1-4-3.

I  L-O-V-E  Y-O-U.

This is heart work. We need his legacy and light to speak loud and clear. It’s up to us.

Your fellow lightworker,

Tara

More Matters in Kind

  • Child Refugee Crisis, UNICEF
  • How to Take Action, ELLE
  • Call my Congress, online tool
  • Tune into my recent interview on the benefits of kindness with Brenda Michaels and Rob Spears on ConsciousTalk Radio.

Filed Under: Compassion, Courage, Empathy, Rants & Raves, Role Models, Well-Being Tagged With: Community, kindness, love, Mr. Rogers, self love, Self-Compassion, Teacher of Self-Compassion, Teaching

No More Guns and Roses

February 17, 2018 by Tara Cousineau Leave a Comment

Embed from Getty Images

“Do you know that there have been 239 school shootings since Sandy Hook?”

“Mom.”  My younger daughter’s voice cracked, “One of the boys got his acceptance letter into a college the day before.”  

She stood in the shadow of a door in the one corner where she could charge her smartphone while scrolling the deluge of messages and postings from teens all over the country about Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida. She will graduate in a few months.

We stared at each other. It’s hard to come up with words in such a moment. Sometimes there aren’t any. Her long hair was loose and wavy from a run in the rain. In the dim light she looked like one of those ephemeral paintings by J.W. Waterhouse. A mythological maiden. An image of worry and wonder. Fragile yet fierce.

She stomped off to study for a calc quiz in a flurry of anger—and I imagine also a wave of guilt and gratitude that she can even be angry about homework when 17 kids can’t. I’m with her. Those precious lives cut short. I think of the grieving father who couldn’t remember if he told his daughter “I love you” when he dropped her off at school that day.

No words.

I silently asked myself: What is the next best thing I can do right now? It seems that the grown ups are failing their children. Yet I sense a vibe. These kids won’t stand for it. This generation is going to do something about it. Two decades of a public health crisis in schools and they will use their common sense, pure and simple. They could care less about lobbyists and special interests. They care about each other.

But at 10 o’clock at night there is only so much a mom can do. There is an Eastern compassion practice called tonglen, which is a giving and receiving reflection to use in difficult times. As Rabbi Rami Shapiro writes in The Sacred Art of Loving Kindness, “It is a way to take upon oneself the pain of the world and transform it into love.” That’s what I choose to do in the moment.

Here is a simple version that I offer in my book.

Sit quietly and comfortably, perhaps with a hand on your heart. Breathe in and out in a comfortable way. As you breathe, bring to mind a sense of warmth, comfort, and ease, or whatever you need in the moment. Inhale this soothing feeling.

Bring to mind a person who is struggling and needs compassion. After you inhale a comforting breath for yourself, on the exhale offer the other person feelings of kindness, caring, comfort, and ease.

Then return to yourself, breathing in warm sensations. Switchback to the person you are visualizing. In an even flow of in- and out- breaths, receive and give warmth and kindness. Like a see-saw. Back and forth, back and forth. One breath in for me, one breath out for you.

It’s an uneven see-saw. All those kids. Parents. Friends.

Some say prayers are not enough. This feels true. But where would we be without them?

A sacred pause. A deep breath. One for me, for you. An infusion of air inviting a sliver of hope. Maybe even a dose of faith. When we start from a place of loving awareness a smidge of space opens up. It’s here where we can discern the next best thing to do. It can reveal a path to compassionate action.

Call a congressperson. Support sensible gun policy. Vote at the midterms. Volunteer. Donate. Speak up. Say I love you.

Make every moment count.

Are you concerned about Gun Violence in Schools and communities?

  • Learn about Sandy Hook Promise 
  • Gun Violence: Get the Facts 
  • Another School Shooting—But Who’s Counting?
  • Stoneham Douglas Victims Fund (Go Fund Me)

It is time for a kindness revolution. Kindness Cure Sightings:

  • How to Start a Kindness Revolution (Book Review) by Greater Good Science Center 
  • Leading with a Kind Mind
  • Path2Empathy Our Shoes

 

 

Credits:

Getty Images, 2018

Tara Cousineau, 2018, Guns & Roses Multimedia

Filed Under: Compassion, Courage, Meditation, Mothers & Daughters, Rants & Raves Tagged With: compassion, gun violence, hope, meditation, prevention, school shootings

Love & Resist: Anniversary of Women’s March

January 21, 2018 by Tara Cousineau Leave a Comment

As we come upon the anniversary of the game changing Women’s March, I am in awe of what transpired over the last year. The most curious thing of all is what I found so despicable about our elected leader of the free world was, in fact, a very odd blessing. Light was cast on the dark shadows lurking around for so long. Not all my friends might agree with me or hold similar views, but it’s quite hard to ignore what happened over the year. #MeToo, #TimesUp, and Oprah’s amazing speech at the Golden Globes.

The times they are a-changin’.

One year ago my husband and I marched in Boston. It was nothing short of transformative. First, that my man went with me (he got into designing posters and he even gave one away to a mother and her kid on the subway so she’d have something). Second, that we became part of a peaceful tribe 175,000 strong, forming a “radical kinship” as Father Greg Boyle likes to say. Third, that we took tons of selfies together and sent them to our daughters—not only so they can confirm how their “awkward” parents are, but to see their core values in action (and what a good guy is all about).

I still have our posters in the family room and will dust them off this weekend. I didn’t get my hand-knitted pussy hat in time for last year’s march, but that hat has not seen the dust. I still wear it—and I will as long as it’s cold outside and this president is in office.

It’s not a time to be complacent. It’s a time to address the dark side with a legion of light workers. It’s not a comfortable time and nor should it be. We need to feel irritated enough to take action. The other day I was clearing my office and out of a book fell a prayer card my mother had given one of my girls: Joan of Ark. How apt!  The Novena begins: “Glorious St. Joan of Arc, filled with compassion for those who invoke you, with love for those who suffer, heavily laden with the weight of my troubles I kneel at your feet and humbly beg you to take my present need under your special protection.” The image on the front is of the armoured French girl of the 1400s, a spiritual warrior across the ages, holding her flag and sounding the call for compassion, social justice and new leadership. I believe Joan of Arc is at our sides protecting us and emboldening us right now, but mostly we have each other. Saints, angels, whistle blowers, courageous women and men… and those contrarian naysayers, too. We all belong. And we all need to evolve humanity. We can do better.

Be a kindness warrior.

My protest sign last year was on kindness. It’s been my calling and so I’ve been studying it, collecting science and story. The basis for my upcoming book has been the view that kindness is strong, not weak. It is courageous, not cowardly. It is heartful, not heartless. It’s not about being nice, agreeable, or virtuous. It’s about understanding, having boundaries, and taking reasonable action. It’s moving from empathic distress to motivational empathy. Taking a kind stance doesn’t mean giving in. One of the protest slogans seen all over the world last year was: “Feel the Rage, Be the Love.” These six small words perfectly capture both the challenge and the solution when facing difficult persons, places, or things. The meditation teacher Sharon Salzberg asks, “Why can’t we both love and resist at the same time?” This is a perfect question for our life and our times, and it forms the basis for reimagining kindness.

We all have something to stand for. For me it’s giving kindness the gravitas it deserves in the landscape of humanity. After all, we can’t survive without it. I invite you to join me. How are you going to rock your world with kindness?  

Get a FREE Rock Your World with Kindness Guide (PDF). 

 

 

Filed Under: Compassion, Courage, friendships, Inspirations, Kindness, Promises to Myself, Rants & Raves, Role Models Tagged With: compassion, Humanity, justice, kind, kindness, kinship, leadership, love, resist, warrior, Women's March

What, not who, are you voting for?

October 31, 2016 by Tara Cousineau Leave a Comment

Sometimes it seems that life is indeed  stranger than fiction. This is how I feel about the 58th presidential election. With that said, I am make making an appeal to you.

Vote for democracy. Vote for Hillary.

First, let me tell you a story. When my daughter Sophie was three years old she chose to be Buzz Lightyear for Halloween. I was so delighted that at least for one season we avoided the princess theme. She was so cute standing there with her wings, shouting “To infinity and beyond.”

sophie-as-buzz

From then on the characters of Toy Story had a very large presence in our household. We had the Woody and Jessie dolls, of course. And, yes, like Andy’s mom, we eventually donated those toys in a box to the local church. When Toy Story 3 came out in 2010 my daughters were almost too old see it with their friends. Instead, we went as a family and snuck in the back row of the amphitheatre above all the littler kids. Toy Story 3 is by far the creepiest of the trilogy, which took me totally by surprise.  

Here’s the quick synopsis. It’s where Woody, Buzz, Jessie and the rest of the cheerful toy gang are destined for an uncertain future as Andy, their human owner, goes off to college.  Instead, the toys find their fate in the Sunnyside Daycare Center, where a mad doll, Big Baby, and a sociopathic bear, Lotso (Lots O Huggin’ Bear), run a prisoner-of-war like operation.

images

It’s the typical hero’s journey formula. The good toys ban together in an underground resistance, attempting to free all the other toys from the dictatorship. But there is a disturbing scene that could give nightmares to any three to five year old who goes to bed with their beloved stuffed animals. It’s where Woody and his pals find themselves close to the end of their lives, trapped in a garbage truck, and scooped into a trash incinerator. Woody, realizing that the end is in sight, holds his friend’s hands in a gesture of love and solidarity.

As they are about to be consumed by flames, I’m clutching the arms of the seat. I blurt out “Ohmygod. It’s the holocaust!” My Sophie turned to me and said, “Jeez, Mom! Calm down.”

Toy Story 3, Pixar

When we walked out of the theater my family ribbed me for being overly sensitive. I have a reason. My mother came over from West Germany after World War II to make a better life for herself. She was not a victim of the holocaust, but she suffered the ravages of war as a small child, hiding in bomb shelters and living in poverty. The cloak of her cultural history enveloped all of us growing up. Learning about Nazi Germany was a gradual unfolding for me, at times quite distressing, and too horrible to comprehend. Ok, so maybe I am sensitive.

Life is Stranger than Fiction

And here I am – a half a century later no less, watching a new cultural scene unfold before my eyes, where it’s entirely possible that the next leader of the United States of America espouses ideology so dangerous, so incendiary, that we are at risk of eventually losing our basic freedoms and human rights. I’m not being dramatic. There are historical precedents in history of other countries’ slow walk toward fascism. A Trump presidency could open the floodgates, or the door for the next leader in line, perhaps someone brighter, more polished, better contained, and highly calculating. That individual could even be someone qualified, with a history of public-service, with a facility for diplomacy, and a basic understanding of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. But this future person is also power hungry, racist, misogynist, exclusionary, paranoid, and harbors an extremist mentality that serves not the many but the few. It is possible.

It doesn’t take a psychologist like myself to discern that Donald Trump has a severe narcissistic personality disorder, with seriously underdeveloped social and emotional intelligence, and an inability to self-regulate or take perspective. But he certainly has a skill: persuasion. And he appeals close to 40- 45% of the US population. Some of my friends are in that cohort. My friends are kind, intelligent, and want the best for their families and their communities. They strive for safety, success, and happiness. And yet it is very difficult for me to understand how the people I admire and love could support such an unstable and dangerous candidate. For the most part, I’ve concluded that they are making the anti-Hillary vote. I can understand that as well. People either hate the Clintons or they hate what they think of as the elite politician and “the establishment.” Many of my friends wanted Bernie Sanders. I listened to Bernie recently and he tells his supporters to go look at the facts and issues (yes, I know it’s hard to find unbiased assessments), and stay out of the myopic personality contest that has hijacked the media and the debates. It seems like wise advice but I don’t think many people are in a state of mind to step back and deeply look at the important issues  facing the American public and our children’s futures, not to mention the future of our planet and all of its inhabitants. (Are you aware that a third of the Great Barrier Reef disappeared this year? Or, that we have the greatest humanitarian crisis of our generation happening in Syria?) 

Love Your Neighbors

Second, as some of you know, I’m working on a project on kindness. This means that I’m taking a hard look at empathy and listening to lots of people’s stories. It’s been heartening and also eye-opening. There are cultural trends tracked by various surveys. Some show that narcissism is on the rise while levels of empathy are on the decline. It makes sense that those go hand-in-hand, as one goes up the other goes down.

One measure of empathy used in social science research (by Professor Mark Davis) is called the Interpersonal Reactivity Scale, a rather apt title for our times. We should all take it. Four components of empathy are identified. Two relate to cognitive empathy and two relate to emotional empathy.  The questions are stated in positive and negative directions, on how well (or not) the item describes you on a five point scale. Here’s a worthwhile glance at all four categories to give you the flavor.

Cognitive Empathy

Perspective taking is about the ability to adopt the perspectives of other people and see things from their point of view while suspending your own feelings or opinions (that involves inhibitory control, too). Examples or questions include:

  • I’m sure I’m right about something so I don’t waste much time listening to other people’s arguments. (-)
  • I believe that there are two sides to every question and I try to look at them both. (+)

Another component is fantasy which is a kind of  “imagination empathy” where you can identify with emotions and experiences of people or characters in movies, novels, and stories. (Just as I can identify with the plight of Toy Story’s characters.) This is the ability to mentally place yourself in another’s shoes. Stories are excellent ways to cultivate empathy. (Listening to real stories on The Moth radio hour is one good way to do this.)

  • I really get involved with the feelings of the characters in a novel when I watch a good movie. (+)
  • Becoming extremely involved in a good book or movie is somewhat rare for me. (-)

Emotional Empathy

Empathic concern is about being able to arouse feelings of warmth, tenderness,  and concern for others. Relating to the suffering of another person and wanting help is called compassion. We have the cellular blueprint for empathy, kindness and compassion otherwise the human race would not have survived.

  • Other people’s misfortunes do not usually disturb me a great deal. (-)
  • I am often quite touched by the things that I see happen. (+)

On the other hand, we can also naturally experience personal distress or the feelings of anxiety and discomfort that can happen from watching another person’s negative experience like a person in pain for instance (Consider the plight of Syrian refugees when you hear them tell their story, being homeless on the street begging, or when you kid is writhing in pain after breaking a leg. DIfferent situation trigger different responses.)

  • Sometimes I feel helpless when I’m in the middle of a very emotional situation. (+)
  • When I see someone get,hurt, I remain calm. (-)

Obviously, empathy is an extremely important inner quality and it’s something that develops over time through supportive and loving relationships and experiences in life. It’s also something that can be cultivated. That’s the hopeful message.  We can actually train the neural networks that stream through our brains – through various practices that include:

  • mindfulness
  • loving kindness meditation and reflection
  • gratitude
  • forgiveness
  • cultivating positive emotions
  • getting to know people who aren’t like you
  • considering other points of view
  • collaboration
  • prioritizing health and wellness

Love Trumps Fear

Third, it is very difficult to tap our empathic roots when our brains are hijacked by fear. I believe that many Americans are in a constant state of fear and feel threatened, whether that is real or imagined. And that’s why Donald Trump is so good at persuading people that we live in an unsafe and dangerous world. He’s triggering the limbic brains of many people, poking at their emotional hot seat.

What happens in such a state of mind? When the mind perceives a threat, the brain’s amygdala (our alarm bell) goes off. When that alarm system is constantly on, it’s very hard to access the other parts of the brain that can regain some control (the prefrontal cortex or the executive functions). For instance, when this “inner coach” is accessed, you are able to calm down, take perspective, and regulate difficult or uncomfortable emotions. Think about a child in a temper tantrum. The only thing that can help that screaming child is to coach him on how to calm down until he learns to do this on his own. Over time the child gets better and better at managing emotions and can “reset.” Of course, we all get stuck in fear based responses no matter what age.  Life is hard. But the basics still apply.

Get Some Headspace, Open Your Heart

So friends, those of you who are on the fence, maybe it’s time to just sit still for a little bit and really take some time to think through what your vote might really mean for you and the American people. In finding a quiet space and lowering the mind chatter to step back from fear-based thoughts, there may be an opening to consider what is at stake. This is not an election of Republicans versus Democrats, this is a vote about an extreme and reckless ideology that can turn back hard-earned progress (women’s rights, civil rights, and human rights to name the biggies).

The outgoing president, whether you liked him or not, once said that our nation suffers from an empathy deficit. He’s not making that up. We are suffering from an empathy deficit, as surveys show, and it’s largely because we are locked in our limbic brains, in self preservation mode, and with a very narrow focus (me vs. them). Let’s step back and calm ourselves down and think rationally and reasonably about the greater good (me and we).

We all want what is best for ourselves and our loved ones. Yet, we also have to stretch ourselves and consider the existence and needs of others who may not be like us. We are a nation of immigrants. I am the daughter of one – the daughter of a once 19-year old German girl who courageously came from a country that had extremist ideology with tragic consequences on an unfathomable scale. That doesn’t mean that my mom or myself was a Nazi. Just as Muslim families who immigrated here are not extreme terrorists. Or that we have to build a wall to keep people out. Let’s get some bearings here.

Oh, and remember when a certain wall was knocked down? And a good thing, too.

(c) GDR Museum
(c) GDR Museum

Empowered Parenting & Leadership

If anything this election has questioned what it means to be a leader and how we lead in our daily lives. Parenting is a good place to start. People are influenced by the kind of parenting they had. There’s solid research that shows the healthiest parental-child relationships arise when the parenting style is authoritative (in contrast to permissive or authoritarian).  This authoritative style includes:  love and concern, consistency, clear expectations, respect, support for healthy striving, room for failure and new learning, and creating atmospheres where social, emotional and cognitive flexibility can grow. In contrast, authoritarian/overly strict or laissez-faire/permissive parenting results in major problems, interferes with the development of healthy attachment, and negatively impacts self-confidence, focus and attention, empathy, overall well-being, and life success. An authoritative style fosters social and emotionally intelligent children who can one day grow into kind, effective and inspirational people.  

An emotionally and socially intelligent style is good for leadership, too. Being benevolently authoritative involves being kind, consistent, showing concern for others and mutual respect. It involves being courageous, confident, calm and  cultivating an environment of safety, while at the same time setting limits, clear expectations, and accountability. This kind of leadership allows for growth, diversity, compassion, collaboration, creativity and innovation. People are craving this. Social and emotional intelligence is the hottest topic in corporate leadership and workplace education these days, not to mention schools. Somehow we need to infuse our political system with it. But we’ve got a bad seed running for the highest office. That he got this far is a travesty and a global embarrassment.

I’m exhausted from this presidential campaign to be honest. I can’t even be nice right now, my limbic brain is buzzing with fear for the future. Here’s the question:

You may not like Hillary, but do you really want an asshole leading this nation?

It’s hard to fathom that this will be the ninth election in which I will be voting. To me it is the most important election to date and it’s not about party lines. It’s the first presidential election in which my daughter, my little Buzz Lightyear, can vote. It’s an important milestone for her, and it is for all of us. What an election to start off with.

When we think about our families, our neighborhoods, and the community of the entire United States of America and beyond, the question of empathy matters and that question of leadership matters.  We are all not that separate from one another. In fact, we are not separate at all. I beseech you to find a calm still place in your hearts and minds. Last thing we need is to be scooped up into an incinerator of ideology.  

*

More to explore

This says it all:

So much of our reactions and behaviors are unconscious. The Hidden Brain podcast gets it.  

When it comes to our politics family matters 

Too sweet or too shrill, the double bind for women

How can the United States heal after the election?

See also:

How to find the good in a nasty election cycle

5 things to tell your kids about the election

Filed Under: Rants & Raves, Well-Being Tagged With: empathy, narcissism, Presidential election, Toy Story, vote

Seeing Red In Pixar’s Inside Out?

August 6, 2015 by Tara Cousineau Leave a Comment

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Any person or parent who as succumbed to the intoxicating delight of Pixar Animation Studio’s movies over the last decade must see Inside Out, this summer’s blockbuster. It’s fodder for ongoing conversations about kids, parenting, the brain, and our emotional lives.

Of the five inner voices swarming around in 11 year old Riley’s head — Joy, Sadness, Anger, Disgust and Fear — I just loved the red little guy! So much so, I saw Inside Out twice: Once with my BodiMojo co-workers (full review here) and once with my family.

The first time I was so attentive to the story line that I had to see it again to focus on the science of it. I realized because I was a temper tantrum kid that I wanted to see more of Anger, voiced by comedian Louis Black. Anger is a difficult emotion that can be appropriate at times (like when the main character, Riley, finds out she has to move away from the comfort of home and her BFFs). It’s also an important emotion in understanding the ups and downs of emotional life, stress, and what’s happening inside the brain. Drs. Dan Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson, co-authors of my favorite parenting book, The Whole Brain Child, have a simple representation of the brain that I love. It’s much simpler that the brain depicted in the movie!  Dr. Siegel uses his hand as a model of the brain, which he divides in to the “upstairs brain” and the “downstairs brain.”  Imagine your hand in a fist. The downstairs brain (the palm) is reactive and controls things like breathing and sleeping; it can get triggered and activate the fight, flight, freeze or faint response when angry or afraid.

The upstairs brain (the curled fingers in Dr. Siegel’s hand model) is the logical, rational brain that can make plans, problem solve, and instill reason and calm. That’s the PFC, the prefrontal cortex. It balances out the downstairs brain. In between is the baby gate, i.e., the thumb tucked inside the fist, which represents the amygdala, the tiny structure in the brain that is on constant alert for danger and helps to process emotion. When a kid “flips her lid” (hand is now wide open) it means the baby gate is locked and the passage between the upstairs and downstairs brain is disconnected. In Inside Out, the Sadness and Joy were locked out while the brain’s command central was going bonkers. That’s when Anger and the other sidekicks, Disgust and Fear, went into panic mode. (“There’s nothing working! Why isn’t it working?”) This triggered the stress reaction and motivated Riley into action, or a “flight” response. This is what Dr. Siegel might call an upstairs tantrum: she made a conscious decision to grab her mom’s credit card number, buy a bus ticket, and then run away.

Dr. Siegel’s Tedx Talk and his Handy Model of the Brain

I wanted to see a downstair tantrum in part because I use this language with some of my younger adolescent clients prone to emotional regulation challenges. Where was the downstairs fist-pounding, wailing meltdown? Plus, every kid loses it from time to time. I’ve found my daughter wailing inside her closet, too, with utter recognition of the experience. To see Riley do so would have been excruciatingly entertaining to be sure. Who couldn’t relate? It would also be instructive for viewers and half the screaming little kids in the theater with me.

How does one calm down when so upset?

A rational conversation by mom or dad would not work well in the moment. After all, who can hear anything when one is in a meltdown? After the emotional release dies down, connecting with an understanding mom and dad certainly could. That might include naming the emotions and engaging in calming skills (breathing, a hug, and mindfulness) until the “baby gate” opens up to the upstairs brain. That’s when new learning (or integration) can take place. As Dr. Siegel says, kids need to know that their feelings are both “mentionable and manageable.”

All told, Anger, made me laugh in recognition. My 15 year old daughter, the consummate animation flick fan, quipped, “I can’t wait for Inside Out 2!”  That’s when we hope the “puberty button” gets pushed! Let’s see what adventures Riley’s internal voices embark on in her morphing brain once she’s a teenager. And that’s when I imagine Disgust will reveal her true sassy self. (Dr. Siegel’s recent book Brainstorm: The Power and The Purpose of the Teenage Brain, is another excellent read.)

I recently saw Dr. Siegel demonstrate  the hand model of the brain at a Mindfulness & Education Conference.  On that day his sidekick was hip hop artist JustMe, who composed a song for kids, “Don’t Flip Yo’ Lid.”  It was amusing to watch teachers and therapist jamming. Whatever it takes!

A movie, a song about the brain for kids?  It works for this big kid.

 

 

Photo credit: © Pixar, 2015 http://movies.disney.com/inside-out/

Filed Under: Balance, Inspirations, Rants & Raves, Well-Being Tagged With: anger, calm, children, Dr. Dan Siegel, emotional life, emotions, InsideOut, kids, meltown, mindfulness, parents, Pixar, teen brain

Would You Drive Your Kids to Drink?

January 9, 2015 by Tara Cousineau Leave a Comment

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“The woods is a dangerous place,” croons Prince Charming to the Baker’s Wife. Indeed, with the recent film release of Into the Woods, I can’t help but dwell on the timeless metaphor of a journey through the forest as approximating ordeals and temptations in the lives of intrepid teenagers.

My husband and I are raising our teenage daughters in a small New England town. We live at the foot of 7,000 acres of wooded reservation land with a chain of 22 hills of hiking trails. Here, “The Woods” is code for a teen hangout not far from the elementary school my girls attended. The spot has been around so long that many parents raised here reminisce about it, often over drinks.

Going into the woods is a coming-of-age right of passage for local teenagers. The “woods” could easily be replaced with any number of terms depending on where you live: the docks, speedway, quarry, fields or lake. To venture off into dark places away from the eyes of authority is like a spell cast over every 13-year-old born unto us. They are marking territory.

Many grown-ups hold memories of intrepid forays into the dark. When we look back, some of us (myself included) wonder how in the world did we ever survive.

Where I grew up in western Connecticut, we drove across to New York State line, where the drinking age remained at 18 and seat belt laws were yet to be passed. If we didn’t drive, we’d hop a ride. It was the upper classmen or friends with older brothers or sisters who used fake IDs to buy kegs of beer while other kids would bring firewood and flashlights to the end of a dirt road. We’d build a bonfire and stand round it in our fisherman sweaters and scarves all staring at the sparkles in the flames. I vividly remember one ride in the back of a station wagon reciting Hail Marys all the way home.

My mother had no clue where I was. My father had been long gone and likely would’ve cared less. But now I am a mother and I have two teenage girls. I know where my girls are most of the time and a network of parents seem to keep their eyes open and cell phones in hand. On the whole, parents do seem to hover more.

Even so, it came a shock to me one night driving home with another mother from a local event. I had received a text from my 16-year-old daughter explaining to me that she had decided to go to her boyfriend’s house. Her friends were going to The Woods, which were off limits to her. She proposed that the “better choice” was to hang out with her relatively new boyfriend at his house. Of course, this didn’t sit too well, as I did not yet have a good read on the boy or his family.

But at least I knew where my daughter was.

In the same moment, my friend was texting her daughter about a pick up time at The Woods. Buckling up, I asked: “What do you mean ‘pick her up from the woods?'” She explained that she had dropped her daughter off at The Woods before we had left.

At least she knew where her daughter was.

Two mothers driving home to collect their daughters: one from a new boyfriend’s house and the other from the edge of the woods. No doubt our vivid maternal imaginations left us uncomfortable. I remained quiet.

Parents, as it turned out, were regularly dropping off and picking up their teens at The Woods. When I asked about this “trend,” the storyline went like this: If we drop our teens off at The Woods we know where they are; the town police know where they and at least they are not driving. Some of these parents also subjected their kids to breathalyzer tests and marijuana kits. What a twist on helicopter parenting.

What a confusing message.

The truth is that accidents and unintentional injuries are the primary cause of death among teenagers, with alcohol-related car crashes as the main culprit. It’s no wonder that the parents I know don’t want their kids driving after hanging out at The Woods. It is a wonder that parents are willing to drive their kids at all. Over a decade of neuroscience research confirms that substance use negatively affects the developing teen brain, including memory, decision making and self-control. Alcohol and drugs put vulnerable teens at risk for addiction.

Let’s imagine our teens in a small group of friends as we consider some numbers. The annual Youth Risk Behavior Survey (2013) found that among the high school students surveyed about underage drinking in the past 30 days:

  • 35% (1 in 3) drank some amount of alcohol
  • 21% (1 in 5) binge drank
  • 22% (1 in 5) rode with a driver who had been drinking alcohol
  • 10% (1 in 10) drove after drinking alcohol

If parents are chauffeuring their kids to the local drinking hole, the full awareness of substance use risks in teens just isn’t sticking. It’s not only about drunk driving. Driving kids to The Woods is a close cousin to hosting a teen party with alcohol. This is to say, it’s not a good idea. The Partnership for a Drug Free America states:

It’s NOT advisable to host teen parties where alcohol is available (and thus, condone underage drinking.) Also, contrary to popular belief, there is NO evidence that parents can “teach their children to drink responsibly.” Quite the opposite is true — the more exposure to drinking in adolescence and parental acceptance of substance use, the higher the risk of later problem with alcohol and other drugs.

My girls know that if they ever got caught going to The Woods that they would be grounded for at least a month, if not two. My girls lament, “Mom, don’t you trust us?” My answer: “I trust you wholeheartedly but I don’t trust teenagers in a crowd.” For many teens, the consequences of not fitting in has higher emotional stakes than breaking house rules. After all, parents are stuck with their teens, but friends can drop your teen in a split second.

My younger daughter, all but 14, went to The Woods, an annual tradition on the eve of high school. I found out two months later, of course, as the last to know. It was the final summer sleep over. I should have known. The host parent should have known. I was not pleased. It was not a great way to start 9th grade. She had to earn our trust back.

Nothing good happens in the woods.

A news story a number of years ago broke my heart. A high school girl had been partying with her friends after a homecoming game out at a marshy area. She drank too much. Her friends assumed that she had gone home early. But no. The girl froze to death where she fell.

The girl could have been anyone’s child.

Admittedly, it’s difficult to stop teens from experimenting. It’s almost impossible keep them from potentially being at the wrong place at the wrong time. As parents we can wish, hope and pray for our child’s safety. We can try to control their experiences, track them with GPS apps, and make them pee in a cup.

But there is another way. We can also be present with them in everyday ordinary moments. We can try out conversations no matter how awkward or serious — over and over again. Above all, we can be clear on our expectations, consistent in the implementation of consequences and loving in our acceptance of our children’s growing pains. Most certainly we can role model for them the very attitudes and behaviors we want to see in them.

Maybe it’s time to come out of the dark.

A shorter version of this post is on Huffington Post Parent, published Jan 5, 2015. I welcome comments!

Filed Under: Courage, Mothers & Daughters, Rants & Raves, Teenagers, Well-Being Tagged With: discipline, drinking, parenting, substance use, teen brain, teenagers, teens

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