Sarah led us in a game where we had to hold perfectly still so that other players who were acting as bears couldn't detect any movement. It was a game of survival. Alex growled, Cat laughed. So Alex and Cat were prowling and their energy felt so ticklish that I started laughing without either of them touching me or making bear noises at me. I became a bear. Which, I have to say, was a hell of a lot more fun than lying on the ground being a human. I got to try tactics out on people like poking them, sniffing them, nudging them with my feet, tickling them. At one point, I got Kelsey out because I laughed at how much fun we were all having. My laugh made her laugh, and I got her out. Weaponized giggles!
I think the game could have gone much differently if we all took it quite seriously, but I think a lot of meaning was still conveyed through it playfully. Sarah led a very open-ended sort of discussion afterward, which I appreciated. It was so on point that Barbara jumped in and segued the game discussion into the class discussion. Excellently handled!
We worked again with image theatre. So we decided to develop images based on the idea of the "oppressive classroom" Alex called me forward and sat me on a chair, head slightly disinclined, hand out as through writing with a pencil. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her grab Chee from the front row to use him as another figure in the image. She put his hand on the back of my neck in a place that could have been easily mistaken for my shoulder. Then she had him stand quite close to my back, and put his face down quite close to mine but still higher to invoke a sense of power. I was immediately terrified. I couldn't look into his face because of the way we were positioned. All I knew was that I was being touched from a source standing behind me and that the other person was a male with a lot of power that I didn't have any of. I felt helpless and trapped and scared while everyone in the class sat and stared and murmured quiet appreciation of what Alex had done, congratulating her without words.
While I knew the whole time that I was in a safe space and that Chee would never do anything to hurt me or scare me or rob me of power, the role and context that I was dropped into were enough to make me tense. Later, when we talked it through, Pam mentioned that she thought it looked like Chee was helping me or guiding me. Chee hadn't seen anything inappropriate in the image. In fact, when I mentioned how inappropriate it was, the whole class had a bit of an "aha" moment. I was bewildered. Had nobody else noticed how close he was? Seen where his hand was? Seen the fear on my face when I could hear his breathing? No. It looked, from the outside, like assistance. Guidance. Like a well-intentioned man assisting a student. At worst, they thought, a man forcing his own ideas onto a student.
When we don't ask the oppressed person, we don't get the terror of the truth, perceived or real. Perception is just as important as reality. If what Chee intended was to help me write a paper but I perceived it as a sexual advance, there needs to be an open, EASILY accessible line of communication through which to debrief the situation. I don't have a history with sexual abuse, but I was terrified in that role and context.
We must learn to actively seek out the opinions and thoughts of oppressed identities in any given space. Allowing a place for them to speak freely is a step, but we must turn ACTIVE ATTENTION to them.
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