what if conflict were simple?
In the moment, we know exactly what it feels like. The cold trickle in our brain splits our psyche like oil and vinegar. That heavy sunken weight makes it impossible to eat. Maybe a distant ringing oozes closer. The fight or flight starts clamoring – either put down the strongest anchor or GTFO as tout-de-suite as possible – immediately, no questions asked, end of story – NOW.
Conflict is terrifying.
Our animal brains can’t always differentiate between “there’s a saber tooth tiger growling at me” and “my roommate scratched my nonstick pan.” So we respond to a dinged up skillet as though the marks were made by literal saber teeth. We hold in the resentment, until it isn’t just a scratched pan, it’s a scratched pan AND rust stains on the sink AND a tub ringed with soap scum – and then we lose our everloving shit. We sigh dramatically, we vent explosively in our group chats, we stamp our feet like children, we think to ourselves “but if they CARED about me AT ALL then they WOULDN’T DO THIS.”
Sometimes a scratched skillet is just a lack of wooden utensils, not a referendum on the inner workings of a relationship.
At best, a bad conflict fizzles out into a story we can laugh about later – hey remember that time I cried over a frying pan??
At worst, though, all of a sudden it’s three years later, and the trauma scars still gleam silvery pink, the silence calcified into something hard and unforgiving.
What if we could have stayed rooted? What if we could have named the issue gently? What if we could have worked it through together – calm, cool, collected? What if instead of three years of silence, we could have had three years of laughter, delight, joy? What if the ebb and flow of conflict and repair were natural, practiced, easy?
Conflict is terrifying – and fear is a tactic oppressors exploit to keep people cowed.
As Ismatu said, “war starts in policy-making.”
Over the first few weeks of this administration, we’ve seen language and actions that live closer to the fanged end of the tiger-to-cookware spectrum.
So I want you to be equipped to handle it. I want you to practice recognizing the way your body and brain react to fear. I want you to know what’s coming, and I want you to have a well-worn plan for navigating it.
I want you to be fluent in the art and science of conflict, so that you can turn towards it – with ease, with fluidity, maybe even with joy.
Let’s transfigure terror, catalyze conflict, and reimagine revolution.