I’ve been in the planning stage of a big out of state event for weeks now. The difficulty of this was working with people whom I’ve never met before. I’m used to being tone policed, and in case you’re unfamiliar with that phrase, it’s when you say something with emotion and the people you’re saying it to dismiss it because of that emotion.
Tone policing is a tool of oppression, keeping people below you. And it’s often done unknowingly.
Class rules come into play here, as well. I am often praised for “being so real” yet it’s that same authenticity that has people moving ahead in the conversation as if I hadn’t said a word. I’ve had far more moments where I was ignored than when I was heard. And it’s because, in part, that I am usually operating with emotion.
Let me state clearly that just because I am used to it and enter most group conversations expecting it, the truth is that it hurts on some level. It’s always the “higher-ups” telling the “lower-ups” what to do, how to look, how to talk. The emotion of being marginalized isn’t invited to enter the room because emotion clouds our decisions and has the ability to make us think about things differently and deeply.
But let someone need a moving story about how “this issue” makes their life more difficult and boom! That oppressed emotion is the Ace up the sleeve. Suddenly, we want to feel how rough someone has it. We need to move people to our side, and that happens through emotional responses quite often.
The other day, a photo was making its way around social media of a homeless man with a case of beer. I probably don’t have to tell you what the “point” of the picture was because you’ve more than likely already heard it in your mind. The photo fueled the fire for those who believe that homelessness equates with laziness and taking advantage of the system. Just like the picture, I bet simply reading about it has your mind forming an opinion about the situation.
Not only do we assume character by quick snapshots, we also form opinions that fall in line with our values and beliefs. If I believe that homelessness is created by a number of circumstances that are connected to things such as lack of mental health resources or unaffordable housing, I am apt to defend the dignity of the person in the picture. On the other hand, if I believe that life is hard for all of us and I worked “this” hard despite obstacles so everyone should be able to, then I probably jumped on the “lack of compassion and understanding of systems” bandwagon.
It’s become accepted to say mean and harsh things about someone who has a name that no one in the conversation knows. It’s become accepted to sit in your warm car and use your expensive smartphone to snap pictures of someone with the sole intent of demeaning them, and the people who have empathy for them, publicly. Imagine how it would play out if the photo subject was actually invited into the room where the discussion was taking place. Imagine if we were all sitting around a conference table, providing a chance for us to be educated on the countless circumstances that create homelessness.
Something tells me that the photo subject would be given newer used clothes to wear to the meeting. There would be considerations given to how the non-homeless people in the room would react to the style of dress, their attention to hygiene and cleanliness. And the person experiencing homelessness would probably be coached in what to say or how to say it in order to be heard. Because that’s what society demands we do; we have to fit a profile in order to be seen as valuable within our society.
I’ve grown very accustomed to how this works over the last six years. And in planning this event over the past month, I’ve become keenly aware of how people with “higher” positions do often look down on those at the bottom of the ladder. The “high on your pedestal” expression becomes more real to me with every passing day in this work, but it’s also dawned on me that it’s all about positioning. Of course you have to look down on people when your chair is higher! I hope we can begin having conversations about how pedestals are obstacles that can be removed.
Let’s defund the tone police. What if we quit buying pedestals and focused on purchasing cheaper seats that would make room for more people to join the conversations? And let’s accept that selfies are, without upper and upper middle class notions, indeed headshots.
Onward,
Amy Jo
