At the core of being a helper
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been someone who cares about other people. As a little person, this came out as worrying about friends who seemed sad and even sending a homemade card to Ronald Regan after he was harmed in an assassination attempt (even though I knew my parents hadn’t voted for him).
When I was in middle school, my peers nominated me to become a Natural Helper, and I spent a weekend with other nominated students being trained on active listening, self-care, and when to ask an adult for help. When I think about that now, I almost laugh at the idea that I was helping people in crisis at the age of 12. This ability to listen and make others feel at ease has been part of my approach to relationships for as long as I can remember, and it’s not a surprise that I turned it into a career path.
At the core of being a “helper” is my belief that every person’s humanity is deserving of care and protection, as well as the understanding that our society disregards some people’s humanity. Quite simply, I care about other people without thought, and I believe their experiences of discrimination and harm deserve to be believed, responded to, and prevented in the future. I also don’t think that other people increasing their safety and well-being negatively impacts my safety and well-being; there’s enough for everyone, and everyone is deserving.
Well, apparently my own government believes that this mindset, valuing other living things over wealth or positional power, makes me less than human. As our country painfully suffers from white supremacy and patriarchy and those in power continue to accumulate, those of us who disagree are being categorized as dangerous, violent, and “enemies of civilization.”
While reading this propaganda makes my stomach turn, I refuse to let it stop me from believing what I believe. Yes, my mind can imagine the worst in how all of this goes, including how I may be personally and professionally affected over time. I worry about how this thinking may create so much fear that others feel too scared to speak up for liberation or work to advance diversity, equity, and inclusion in our workplaces and communities. I also worry about the people who will absorb this hateful thinking to justify their own fears, internal biases, and drive to preserve their security at all costs. History is full of individuals who did nothing when harm and violence became the norm.
When I think about my own capacity to stay the caring, present person I aim to be, I also think about how important it is to sustain that capacity. It’s taken a long time to fully understand the significance of caring for myself as a tool to resist supremacy and violence. These days, I work towards regular, small moments of care for myself. Whether it’s taking a few mindful breaths, holding a beautiful rock, feeling the soft ears of my sweet pup, or focusing on gratitude as clean water flows out of my faucet, I want to take notice of the beauty and ease that I am lucky to experience. It’s not always easy, but it’s always impactful to give myself some of the care that I have.
Me and my dog, Ziggy Sawdust, doing a bit of self care on a wet July day at the Oregon Coast.
If you can relate to any of this, please know that you’re not alone. Anything you do to share your compassion and care is needed and valuable. Your ability to see the humanity in others is a beautiful thing, and it makes the world a bit better for everyone. Thank you for all of the ways you show up. And the world needs you to take care of yourself so that you can keep showing up.
If you need some ideas to get your self care plan started, check out this article with 25 ways to practice self care. Many of them are free, and all of them are focused on the premise that you deserve care, and a little can go a long way.
“I want to live the rest of my life, however long or short, with as much sweetness as I can decently manage, loving all the people I love and doing as much as I can of the work I still have to do. I am going to write fire until it comes out of my ears, my eyes, my nose holes - everywhere until it’s every breath I breathe. I’m going to go out like a fucking meteor. ”
