aggressively passive
March 8, 2014 § 14 Comments
In an altogether too common happenstance I read a casually, intentional social media message of victimization with undertones of accusatory wrongdoing. I was uncomfortable with the passive aggressive statement of harm, but not for the reason you might expect.
A couple days ago I might have composed a similar statement of injustice. A moment of unkindness toward my son had me puffed up with righteous indignation. I considered buoying myself with the reassurance of friends while passively labeling the children involved as bad, mean, or bullying. Perhaps they were all of these things, but labeling others in a public manner makes me no better a person.
I see this more often, otherwise kind individuals posting unkind sentiments. One statement becomes a thread of conviction; responses based in concern and loyalty unintentionally becomes a secondary source of harm. We take moments out of context and recycle wounds into weapons.
Reading unkindness I am not so innocent a bystander either, my silence a passive acquiescence of wrongdoing. Somewhere in the space between assumptions and statements there must be time enough for greater consciousness in our words.
Perhaps we must begin in silence, allowing ourselves time to experience a harm privately before expressing ourselves publicly. As a mother I am especially concerned with how I address injury and promote healing. I do not want my children to balance justice by a contingency of karma or hold tightly to bitterness; to label or convict casually another’s error in judgement. This is my challenge, to model with clarity an experience often cluttered emotionally.
scribblechic 
So eloquently written! Wow!
Thank you, Sue. I think so many of these pieces begin with chasing a thought and looking for ownership of my experiences. Each is deceptively open ended, despite my convictions, as I continue to learn from my mistakes.
First – great post. I have been exposed to these questions more than most because I adopted – so spent two years being vetted by the authorities – and a huge part of that journey is to confront how you deal with situations, and how you might model responses.
I tend to think that encouraging a child to have the confidence to make their own decisions, and be willing to change their mind is perhaps more valuable than making a “right” decision…
I agree, Jonathan. In fact I would go so far as to say that there is a vast space between acting consciously and erring unintentionally where we can all reflect on choice and ruminate on growth.
Thank you for reminding me, gently and kindly, the value of nurturing confidence and embracing change.
Nicely done; reminds me of a sentiment from a local, much-loved folk song; one that celebrates the down-to-earth existence we prize so very much:
“Some go to where the buildings reach to meet the clouds
Where warm and gentle people turn to swarmin’, faceless crowds
So I’ll do without their riches, glamour and the noise
And I’ll stay and take my chances with those saltwater joys.”
Saltwater joys – love this playful and poetic interpretation of everyday life in all its bittersweet complexity.
I, too, hope to model appropriate response to unkindness. I was recently witness to a hate-filled internet lynching and said nothing, choosing to stay out of the ugliness and not spread it. I still wonder if I did the right thing, but don’t know how I would have reacted otherwise without furthering suffering. It is so easy for us to de-personalize others and attack from behind our screens. Thanks for this heart-felt musing.
Sometimes silence speaks louder than words; in choosing not to “like” or offer empty agreement, you refuse to perpetuate injury. I think there are occasions when it is best to speak out in a more intimate setting, posing questions that allow another to consider their intentions without shaming them into defensiveness.
This post really made me stop and think. Standing by silently can be perceived as wrongdoing (just as much as the people taking part in the wrongdoing.) However, I really like your thoughts of silence as a place to let it sink in, wrap your mind around it, and assess how to best respond while promoting healing.
Beautiful words!
Thank you, Caitlin. I wish I had the clarity of thought and certainty of self to respond confidently and quickly in the moment, but I tend to muddle my intentions and emotions without first collecting my thoughts and sorting out my motives.
It is so hard not to judge when our children are wronged, even if we don’t believe in judging. And I think, when we do, life eventually puts us in a position where we feel what it was like to be judged–and realize how naive we were to do it. Karma. But it can sometimes take awhile. Unless you’re me. My karma seems to be almost instantaneous:). Old soul, I guess.
Me, too! It never fails, just when I think I stand in a place of “right” I get a little kick in the pants that both humbles me and informs a new appreciation for an overlooked perspective. Well said, Kay!
The timing of this post was perfect for me, Marie. I recently started a new job, one that requires a great deal of learning, and for which I am just modestly qualified. A few clients have sensed this fact and have made rude comments, a few bordering on hostility. My internal reactions have me questioning how I react to the flaws and mistakes of others. This process of growing up never really ends, does it?
Some of my most difficult lessons still carry a tenderness from old wounds that inform greater empathy. Perhaps the challenge is to grow wiser without loosing the attentive curiosity that callous judgment curtails. More simply, no, I don’t suppose we ever really stop growing into growing up.
Wishing you more patient patrons, Charles.