Studies in Empathy: Beginnings

It’s a hard time to be human. If paying attention is the first rule for an artist, it’s a painful rule to follow right now. I feel like I’ve been standing still for a long time. I’ve watched and listened and asked questions, but I haven’t been moving. As a dance artist, that feels like a problem, but it’s one I don’t necessarily feel the need to dwell on right now. Last night, I had an impulse to move; to allow the body’s capacity for empathy to help me process what I’m thinking and feeling.

Words aren’t working for me right now, but moving seems to open up greater possibilities for effective communication. What’s moving me now is what I see happening: violence fueled by fear, fundamental differences in ideology that leave a long list of casualties in their wake. I am equally devastated and exasperated by the never ending series of executions that climb in number while nothing changes—except some things are changing: people whom I know and love are so afraid. Afraid to get in their cars, afraid to leave their homes. They are angry too. So am I, but my anger is fueled by empathy. Theirs goes deep, and it is part of their personhood. Their anger is the accumulation of centuries of having the burden of expectations from more privileged people folded into their very identities.

I am conscious of the trap of white guilt: how very problematic it is, how ineffective and counterproductive it is to indulge in it. I am also conscious of how easy it is to get comfortable in my indignation. Sharing an article online and “hashtagging” it is fine- at the very least it could spur a brief conversation that might call attention to new perspectives. But it’s all too easy to fall into a pattern of sharing and tagging, and enjoying the self-righteous indignation and superiority, without actually acting and doing something meaningful.

I don’t think that making art alone is enough. But I have some thoughts on how it can be a mechanism for a deeper exchange that could foster change. As a dance artist, I find the body to be the perfect site to initiate that exchange. As I think about the many black and brown lives taken too quickly, I am drawn to the many ways the body factors heavily into this narrative, and the now-iconic images of bodies that we associate with the Black Lives Matter movement: “hands up, don’t shoot;” “I can’t breathe;” bodies prostrate in die-in protests; athletes “taking a knee” during the national anthem on nationally televised games. It is also significant that this war is really being fought over which bodies belong where and how they should behave.

My own body has inherited a significant amount of privilege because I was born white. I also experience life through other modes of privilege: highly educated, upper middle class, heterosexual, cis-gendered, able-bodied. It is because of this privilege that I have a responsibility see beyond myself. I believe that empathy is the highest form of intelligence, and I also believe it can be nurtured and developed. My body’s potential to find deeper understanding and meaning through empathy is the focus of this new work.

The questions driving the work right now: How can I leverage the body as a site for empathic exchange? How do I create space for the viewer to confront uncomfortable truths? How can we work together to change the narrative?

I’m working on my own for now, so I can begin to build a framework around these questions. I don’t expect my process to stay this way. I know that involving other people in the development of the work (whatever it is, whatever it turns into) is critical. I'm grateful for the possibilities through social media to involve people from other places, and for the potential to even collaborate with them. I welcome your thoughts on this process. I also want to know if this is something of which you'd like to be a part. Comments are encouraged; you can also contact me via the contact form on this site.