Year of Discovery (Week 20: Symbols and Judging What We Don’t Know)
I experienced a beautiful lightness of being this last week driving through the Tuscan countryside and hiking through seaside towns of central Italy with a close friend. Without much of an agenda, we woke up every day and checked in on where we were drawn to visit, and proceeded. This was a departure from my dominant ‘on it’ mindset, which featured at work and eventually to other parts of my life, even the supposedly lighter ones. Holding a tension between being in control and allowing for serendipity is one that we experience throughout our days, and is often accentuated during travel. Luckily, my friend and I were on the same page on how to balance the two.
This week, I’m writing on the strength of symbols and judging what we don’t know.
Strength of Symbols
One of the observations I’ve had being in the countryside, seaside, and capital (Florence) of the Tuscany region is the importance of symbols found throughout each area. Material objects representing something abstract, symbols come in the form of statues, art, emblems, family crests, and more. By learning about historical symbols of power, I’ve come to reflect more on the symbols we have in modern-day.
Historically, Florence experienced numerous shifts of power between the monarchs and the republic, and symbols were often created to represent the era in power. When 17-year-old Cosimo I de’ Medici was appointed as Duke of Florence in 1537 and replaced the republic with a monarchy, Cosimo commissioned goldsmith Benvenuto Cellini to create a bronze statue of Perseus and the Medusa. As the story goes, Perseus beheads Medusa who turns everyone who locked their gaze with her into stone. Cosimo wanted the statue to symbolize the end of the republic and the strength of the monarchy and strategically placed it in a square of stone statues (including the famous David, which represented the republic) to remind his constituents who were ultimately relevant and in power.
Similar to historical times, today’s symbols and stories mirror the ‘winners’ of our society. Hence why battles of ideology and power are also battles of symbols. During Rhodes Must Fall in March 2015, University of Cape Town students and staff protested against a statue that commemorates Cecil Rhodes, which represented the institutional racism and colonization of education in South Africa. The protest sparked nationwide and global debate and the statue ultimately came down in April 2015, marking what some hoped was a milestone in the change of power.
But Clint Smith, author of How the Word is Passed, argues that symbols are not enough for change (though critical).
Symbols are important but they’re not enough by themselves. Confederate statues should come down and we should dismantle the prison industrial complex. Juneteenth is an important day to celebrate and we should take seriously calls for reparations. Symbols & policy. It’s both.
If you tear down a statue of Robert E Lee but maintain racist exclusionary zoning in that neighborhood, that’s not meaningful change. If you sing Lift Every Voice & Sing at your next little league game but actively oppose integration of your child’s school, you’re doing it wrong.
Symbols shape narratives, and different narratives are important to create different policies. Symbols matter. So change the team names, take down the statues, rename the schools, celebrate the holidays but always keep in mind that this is the beginning of the work, not the end.
Questions to reflect on:
- What symbols do you see in your life and what do they represent?
- Are symbols enough for change? If not, what else is needed?
Judging What We Don’t Know and Diversity
This past year has inspired more questions about the future of the world: from a global pandemic to clearer, more destructive signs of climate change to changes in power (like the recent news of the Taliban take-over of Afghanistan). Uncertainty can feel unsettling to some and interesting / thought-provoking to others and can bring about different responses:
- compassion, stemming from deep wisdom and understanding of the ever-changing nature of the world
- judgment, lashing out from the fear of the unknown (which is ultimately what fear of change is)
I’ve become more curious about the latter — judgment — and how it does or doesn’t serve us as humans. When I was in the private sector, I remember engaging with judgment when various people in the private sector complained about other actors in the broader system: the public sector for being bureaucratic and inefficient or academia for having their heads in the clouds and not being rooted enough in daily reality. But as I’ve taken a step back in my YoD and spent more time with people from different backgrounds and sectors, I’m realizing that judgments were often over-simplifying the complexity and messiness of other people’s realities and other systems. It doesn’t mean there isn’t room for improvement after understanding, but it means that there can also be benefits from taking time to understand rather than forming quick judgments on the unfamiliar. Spending time to ask questions also means learning about the relative strengths and weaknesses of all parts of the system and seeing how they work together, rather than dismissing any as not being good enough.
Judgment is easy and quick while compassion takes time and work to cultivate. In a society that prioritizes speed and efficiency (and shareholder value) over steady pacing, craft, and thoughtful refinement, judgment comes more naturally than compassion. It’s especially easy to judge what we don’t know and be dismissive of it rather than take the time to ask questions and build a muscle to stay curious.
The danger is when people choose to design their lives (like live in more homogenous communities) to decrease the unknown, which increases judgment. Psychological science tells us individuals prefer homogeneity. At an interpersonal level, people are attracted to others perceived as similar to themselves. At the group level, individuals favor ingroup members, over outgroups, even when ingroup similarity has little meaning.
But recent evidence suggests that when people do put themselves in spaces where they engage with diversity or the unknown, they adapt and often thrive.
Time helps. In early stages, diversity tends to lower trust, but, with time, mixing with others counteracts that negative affect. Initial contact with outgroups is stressful, but, as contact continues, positive outcomes emerge. Integration helps. High minority-share areas improve relations between integrated groups but harm relations between segregated groups. In diverse communities, it is the residential segregation, not diversity per se, that reduces trust. Contact helps. Constructive intergroup contact improves intergroup attitudes. — PNAS Study
So how do we embrace the unknown and be compassionate in the face of uncertainty? For one, surrounding ourselves intentionally in diverse communities: race, socioeconomics, fiscal, regional, sexual orientation, etc. And for another, staying curious and continuing to question our own assumptions of other people, groups, countries and more.
To love, to laugh, to live, to work, to fail, to despair, to parent, to cry, to die, to mourn, to hope: These attributes exist whether we are Vietnamese or Mexican or American or any other form of classification. We share much more in common with one another than we have in difference. — Viet Thanh Nguyen
Questions to reflect on:
- How do you stay curious about other people?
- What scares you the most about the unknown and how can you cultivate compassion through the similarities and interconnectedness of the human experience?
What I’m reading this week: Ministry of the Future (still working my way through this — if anyone is reading it, let me know your thoughts on how it relates to a future you imagine!)
