THE AHIMSA WAY
Violence of exclusion
USHA JESUDASAN
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Making people feel unwelcome can be more painful than physical violence. What is an appropriate ahimsa-based response?
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Exclusion… Makes one seethe with anger, robs potential for friendship, and destroys bonds that emphasise our humanity.
Photo: V. Sreenivasa Murthy
In it together: Making everyone feel at home...
At one of my first international conferences, I was one of three women. Although it was many years ago, I remember well the humiliating, painful feeling of being deliberately excluded — because I was a woman, in a sari, and belonging to the Third World. The assumption that I could not speak English, and had nothing valuable to bring to the group made me feel worse, and I found that I too was getting hostile and prejudiced. This incident taught me a lot about the violence of exclusion…how it makes one seethe with anger, robs potential for friendship, and destroys bonds that emphasise our humanity.
Whenever we exclude people from meetings, social and family occasions we violate their sense of pride and dignity. When we say, or make them feel, “You don’t belong here”, or “You are not of my race, status, generation, educational standard”, we hurt them deeply and crush their self confidence. Why do we exclude people from our groups? Mainly because of prejudice, ignorance, and an inflated sense of ego. People who are crushed and made to feel inferior will not allow themselves to be treated this way for long. At some point they will retaliate and usually it is with other kinds of violence.
The antidote
Being ahimsa minded at a family or social occasion is easy. Inclusion is the antidote to exclusion. A welcoming handshake, a warm smile and pleasant greeting , a genuine desire to get to know the other person, making him or her feel part of the group.
At a recent wedding, some of the guests were from the village and stood out among the others in their rustic dress and hairstyles. The hostess, a very gracious lady, instead of making them feel out of place, took them around and introduced them to everyone saying, “This is Rani amma, who used to look after the bride as a baby, and this is the person who brought fresh milk every day just for her”, and so on. She personally guided them to the best seats and stayed with them for a while, making sure they were served with as much courtesy as the others were. This is the ahimsa way in action. It shows generosity of nature and kindness of heart and the realisation that we are all part of one humanity, however different we may seem.
Separated by silence
As we reflect on the violence of exclusion, let’s also think about silent exclusion — the way we sometimes “withdraw” from those who love us. “I hate it when my husband shuts me out of his life,” said a newly married wife. “I know he has some problems at work, but he won’t share them with me.” By silently shutting her out of his life and refusing to acknowledge and respond to her emotional needs to share her life with him, he is inflicting emotional violence on her. Perhaps he does not know that it is a form of violence.
All of us are guilty of this kind of violence both at home and the workplace. We punish our spouses, children and colleagues with silence and neglect. This is actually more vicious than a slap, and hurts more. Being ahimsa minded under such circumstances becomes a huge challenge and often we think that it cannot be done. But it can.
One reader wrote, “One of my colleagues does not greet me, and just ignores me. Facing this kind of violence is not easy as I am a sociable person, and it hurts. I have now realised that an ahimsa way of responding for me would be not to ignore him back, but to put some positive input into the relationship, to greet, to smile, to invite him to all the meetings I hold — to not do to him what he does to me and hope that my actions will make a difference some day. ”
All of us have been given the silent treatment at some time. When we give someone the silent treatment because we cannot cope with their involvement in our life, we push them into an area which says, “not human”. And this is emotional violence.
A very competent wife who manages all the family’s affairs, rolls her eyes and pushes her husband away when he asks if he could help with something. “You won’t know what to do,” she says and leaves him feeling isolated and humiliated.
Adverse consequences
“What is my role within my family?” he wonders sadly and angrily. The wife does not agree that her behaviour is violent. “I’m just shielding him from things he does not have to do, he should be grateful to me,” she says. Shutting people from our lives is emotional violence. We may not realise it, but such violence can lead to a number of adverse psychological consequences. Loneliness, a reduced sense of self-esteem, bouts of aggression, sadness and depression. Those who inflict such violence have to understand what it is that makes them wreak havoc on the emotions and lives of those who love them. If you are a perpetrator, ask yourself, “Why am I being so nasty? Is it because I am insecure or jealous?”
Just think…have you ever been given the silent treatment? How did you respond to it? What did you learn from it? Your experience of it should enable you to want to live the ahimsa way and not perpetrate it on anyone else. Most himsa behaviour is practised at home within the family and so it is with our families that we can actually begin to practise the ahimsa way of life and see the benefits of it. Include the elderly and the children; embrace the surly teenager and the difficult mother or daughter-in-law in your conversations, activities and when you make decisions — your life can only get better.
If you follow the ahimsa way of life and wish to share your story, please write to the author at www.ushajesudasan.com or ushajesudasan@gmail.com
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