Gifts of Empathy

Since 2013, I have been on a journey to uncover my empathic self. I use the word "uncover" because I believe we all have the ability to be empathetic. It has just been hidden underneath layers and layers of armor, armor that had gotten in the way of my being my true self, the self that is naturally attracted to all forms of love, including empathy. To give empathy, you have to be willing to put down your armor. But how can you put down that armor if you can't even see it? To uncover my empathic self, I had to first uncover my armor. This was not an easy task considering that it was celebrated in my family.

The family environment that I had been raised in had taught me that avoiding all pain, or at least enduring it minimally made the most sense. As a result, my family wore their armor proudly. They criticized other family members like it was a sport. Save for one time when my brother apologized to me, I have never heard my family utter a word of apology or admit a mistake. To admit a mistake would be tantamount to acknowledging a failing or weakness, and that was considered to be too humiliating. Coming from this environment, I too wore my armor proudly for a long time, like it was a badge of honor. I thought wearing it like that could protect me from pain. As the years wore on, I only added on more layers of armor in response to the pain.

These conditions set up the stage for a long, difficult journey to learn empathy. Starting out, I would say my empathy skills were at an F, if I were to give them a grade. I took classes and read books. The classes were vague and did not provide me with anything concrete or useful. I tried to apply what I learned from the classes and books to deal with conflicts, but the conversations were frustrating and time consuming. Without structure, they would just loop around in circles.

In 2019, I finally found one very helpful book on empathy and I practiced the skills in it alot. I began to step up my study of empathy in earnest. Each time I had a conflict with someone, I kept a journal where I would track what the other person had said, what I had said in response, whether it was a good example of communication, how what I said would affect the other person, and after this analysis, I would devise a new, more empathetic response.

The journal was a helpful tool for uncovering my patterns of armor. The armor often manifested as various forms of defensiveness: trying to avoid someone's pain by launching into justifications of why I had done something, using good intentions as a substitute for empathy (e.g., not wanting to acknowledge any hurt that I had caused for others because if they understood my good intentions, they would just forgive me and not feel hurt, right?), disagreeing or agreeing with what others said instead of listening to it and trying to imagine what it was like to be in their shoes.

Gradually, I was able to see what empathy was by seeing what it was not. Each time I noticed that I was not being empathetic, a new distinction between what empathy was and what it was not would come into focus. I got to a point where I could see beyond the defensiveness to seeing that I had a choice, and that if I cared more about the other person, I had the choice to put up more armor or make the effort to imagine what it was like to be in the other person's shoes. If I cared more about deepening the relationship with the person in front of me than preserving my armor, I could choose to go in the direction towards empathy, no matter how difficult the path. It didn't mean the defensive feeling would not still be there, but once I had seen the layer of armor, I could choose a direction in line with my true desires. I also learned that the defensiveness could be a signal that I needed to give myself empathy first before I could listen to the other person.

I was proud of how far I had come with developing my empathy skills, despite what a messy and painful process that it had been. This year, I decided to teach an empathy class to share what I had learned. The goal of the course was to empower students with practical, effective communication skills that they could use to deepen relationships, experience more fulfilling connections, and discover more sustainable ways of relating to others. This course was born out of my recognition that if we are to tackle climate change together, we need more sustainable ways of communicating with one another. I believed that it could also heal a broken democracy.

I had no prior teaching experience, but I was willing to learn by doing, and I knew an experienced teacher who could guide me through the process of teaching the course. I also had a lot of practical experience with empathy, as I had been learning about empathy from all angles. I set about designing the class sessions, homework, discussion questions, writing up a syllabus, and rehearsing before each class. After all that I had learned about empathy, I was excited to share it with the community.

Yet, I could not shake the feeling that my class was doomed from the start. While researching empathy before my course, I came across a study suggesting that many would not be willing to put in the work to develop empathy, even when there was no cost to them. Only a very small percentage, about a third of participants, chose to give empathy in that study.

What I observed from the students in my class only seemed to confirm the study's findings. One student dropped out of the course three days before it even started because she was afraid that she would be overwhelmed with emotions that she was afraid of. Then, at the first class, I asked the students to tell me what had drawn them to taking the course. One by one, the students echoed each other in saying that they took the course to support me. On the surface, this seemed like a nice thing to say to a budding teacher. But instead, I felt dismayed and a deep sense of foreboding. I wanted the students to take the course because they were as excited about practicing empathy as I was, not because they were there out of some sense of obligation to support me. I wondered how a mind filled with obligation could be open to my class. I had hoped that my students would go on an animated journey with me and we would both learn more about empathy together. I became less excited as the class went on because I had put a lot of thoughtful, painstaking effort into the class and was deeply disappointed at the level of engagement.

After my empathy pilot course ended in July, I continued to struggle with the bigger questions around it. I felt lost and discouraged about whether there were enough people who would be excited about learning empathy. After all, empathy is a lot of work. Had this course just been a foolish and naive project aimed at a hopeless cause? I did not know anymore why I had done all this.

The answer became clear to me in September. A loved one was having an emotional crisis. He was faced with a life decision and was in a deep state of panic that he would make the wrong choice. He was haunted by decisions that had not turned out well in the past and he didn't trust himself to make a good decision this time. He was running around in circles in his head and getting more panicked by the minute, but he didn't want to talk about it.

I held his hand and told him, "We have to let whatever it is emerge." I was thinking to myself, how can I create that space for something to emerge? Curiosity provides the space for thoughts and feelings to emerge; it is the space where discovery meets seeing. We could travel to this space together, and if there was pain, seeing it with the spirit of discovery would carry us through it, and we could stay open and vulnerable even in the face of it. I am a naturally curious person, and thinking about journeying to go deeper and deeper into someone's skin to discover things made the seeing easier for me. i did not need courage or skill to do what was already in my nature.

It was a joy for me to give him empathy that day as a gift. In the process of watching him transform right before my eyes, I also discovered what my own gifts are: nurturing other people's ability to see their own beauty through my curiosity, which has provided the fuel for my whole journey through empathy. By uncovering the authentic selves of other people, I supported them in seeing their own beauty and nurtured the emergence of their own gifts. I did this with my passion for discovering the deeper truths. I had been told that my passion for learning was infectious and motivated people to engage. I had always discounted the importance of the student, admiring more the influence of good teachers. Now, from the perspective of someone who had been a teacher, I knew that the student was equally important to the learning process.

Although I am now stepping into more of a leadership role, being a student is something that I will always wear naturally. As a student, I will have to admit that I don't know, and may never know, all there is to know about empathy. Though I have worked hard to get to know it better, I will always want to learn more about it. I will continue to have an open, humble, and honest relationship with empathy: it is and will continue to be an enduring adventure that never ends.

In the next chapter of this journey, I am looking forward to guiding the curious souls, the explorers, and the adventurous ones who want to go on a deeper journey with empathy. Together, we will slowly, but dramatically, change the balance of empathy in this world.