During class, we did an activity where one person had to match their head movement to another person's hand movement. I've done this at parties before, but I was usually drunk and it usually involved pressing my forehead up against another person's forehead. From the get-go, it's very clear who has power and that most people intend to use their power for good. Then the pods become triads, and one person must control both other members with their hands. This can get confusing, difficult to coordinate, but is generally an okay idea. By the time the triads merged into one conglomerate, there was a desperation to maintain one's self while leading well, which was at times impossible. Each leader had to follow the hand of another person who was following the hand of another person. Things became very difficult very quickly, and even the smallest movements from the person in the center had a huge impact on the people at the ends of the chains.
At one point, my hand was hooked to someone else's. That was how our group was connected to the whole. My fingers became disconnected, and our group was stranded. Even though I was not the group leader, I had been put in a position of power and had failed. I had put pressure on myself to do well and to maintain the unity and movement of my group, and suddenly we were stranded. While we all laughed over this in class, it was actually very frightening and painful--probably because it connected to clearly and obviously to my own life and my own experience working within the system of higher education.
Once we were connected again, Shannon was a good leader. She did what she could, and when I ended up on the ground, having caught most of my weight on my hand between my thumb and my lower knuckles, she made sure I was alright when I expressed pain and did her best to keep me from having to brace myself with that hand again. I was grateful to her for being a benevolent leader, for sacrificing her own task-at-hand to make sure that I was okay. I realized that we all see ourselves as benevolent and try our best to do right by our people, but sometimes we forget how to balance and coordinate. Sometimes deadlines are out of our control, and we just have to let everything below us try to stand on its own without leadership while we take a few moments to check in with ourselves.
Another game that we played was a vampires vs. humans game. It taught me that there is fear at both ends of a relationship and different power on each side. It taught me that the power of abstaining is, in fact, a power and that, used wisely, it can be very effective. It taught me that most of the time, the grass is NOT greener on the other side. When I was a human, I was afraid of being made into a vampire. I closed my body off and tried to avoid everyone else. When I was turned into a vampire, though I was in a position of power, I knew that I had become changed and wanted very badly to change back. I felt uncomfortable being forced to prey on and live off of people that I know and love, people who I KNEW were afraid of me, people who I KNEW wanted so badly to abstain. It occurred to me in the analysis of the exercise that the first vampire could have just left everyone alone, could have made one other vampire and they could have become human together. But instead? Chaos. Probably because that one vampire was thrust into a position of power without any experience. It's an interesting thing to think about.
The third game we played was about disassociation. When told to stop, we were to walk. When told to walk, we were to stop. There were two other groups of directions that were added in until it became somewhat overwhelming. We're so used to following rules that it becomes counterintuitive and frustrating to break them. However, we also learned that we could take these commands on easily. I felt that in time, they would become instinctual--almost zero response time. Words, then, mean nothing. Only the intent behind them and wether or not we choose to follow along. I think this activity taught me that power does not equal oppression. Stop lights or crosswalk signals are not oppressive--just safe and conventional. Stop lights with cameras on them, however, IMPLY solely by existing that we are not trusted. That lack of trust leads to anger.
I know it's a bit of a stretch, but I wonder how I would feel if I were a man. Our society is very adept at microaggression and perpetuating rape culture. We tell women to "be careful" and "walk in groups" instead of telling men "rape is disgusting" and "anything other than the word 'yes' means 'no'." If I were a man, I would be insulted. I would feel punished and hurt if I ever saw a woman pull her purse tighter or grip her keys like a weapon because of me. My stomach would turn and I would feel angry. Angry with her, angry with perceptions of my sex, angry with the whole idea of rape culture. I would feel powerless and disgusting. I wonder about that, if my lack of trust has ever angered a man or has ever made him think, however out-of-character, "I'll give her something to be scared of."
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