Blog

Asylum Medicine: A Call to Respond

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Over the past year, the subject of migration has rarely left the headlines. But relatively little of the media coverage has had the substance it merits – particularly on the issue of asylum. We’ve been immersed in a political back and forth that too often ignores the lives of those caught in the middle.

I still vividly remember the first asylum seeker I met as a physician. At the time, I was a volunteer for Doctors of the World-USA (now HealthRight International), a program that trains doctors on how to conduct forensic medical and psychiatric examinations of asylum seekers with claims of torture or other forms of persecution. Through the organization, I learned about the man’s background before meeting him. He had been imprisoned and tortured after standing up for the rights of others in his home country. Soon after, he escaped and eventually made it to the United States to apply for asylum. Honestly, I cannot recall if he entered the country legally or illegally. It was irrelevant to my duties.

I was living in Brooklyn, New York, at the time and took the subway to a large hospital in Manhattan, where the man and I were scheduled to meet. We were both a little nervous, not knowing exactly what to expect. Determined to be thorough in my evaluation and documentation, the interview and physical examination took us hours to get through. He had numerous scars, and one scar on his abdomen was virtually diagnostic. The large scar took the shape of an object many of us use every day. His captors had burned him with it. Due to the burn, he had areas of skin where he could not feel the touch of a hand and other areas that were hypersensitive to light touch. Although I took forensic photographs for his attorney and the immigration judge, I would never need a picture to remind me of the burn’s semi-triangular shape and the mangled scar left behind. That scar and the man’s wounded face as he told me about how he was tortured are permanently etched in my memory.

After completing the asylum evaluation and providing a medicolegal report for the man’s attorney, I never saw him again. Much later, I was informed that he legally qualified for asylum, in part because of the report I provided. He would not be forced to return to a place where he would have likely suffered further persecution, including perhaps death. Nonetheless, I knew he would continue to be at risk for suffering from the psychological consequences of torture. What would he think of every time he saw that abdominal scar in the mirror? I hoped he would at least reflect on his courage and the way he rose up after incredible tragedy.

That first asylum evaluation was about 17 years ago. Since then, I’ve performed forensic medical and psychiatric evaluations of many other torture survivors seeking asylum and trained other healthcare professionals on how to do the same. Several years ago, with dear friends and colleagues, I helped launch an asylum medicine clinic in Washington, DC. And recently, two colleagues and I penned a paper on asylum medicine standards and best practices, hoping to stir further dialogue in this area. One of my coauthors, Amy Zeidan, is an emergency medicine physician who has conducted numerous asylum evaluations. Her first experience sitting in on an asylum evaluation took place when she was my medical student. During a recent training for other healthcare professionals, I was touched to hear her cite my words from years before – that practicing asylum medicine is one way a doctor can save a life. Just out of fellowship, she has already emerged as a leader in the field. We need so many more like her – and like my other coauthor, Katherine McKenzie, an internist who heads an asylum medicine clinic at Yale School of Medicine and trains medical students and residents on the forensic evaluation of asylum seekers.

Today, there are even more people seeking asylum in the United States and elsewhere than there were when I first began conducting asylum evaluations. Worldwide conflict and violence have driven global displacement to record numbers. In the United States, applications for political asylum have increased while the number of people granted asylum has decreased. The United States hosts far fewer asylum seekers and refugees than many other countries, including much poorer nations.

According to United States and international law, people have a legal right to seek asylum. And the bar is fairly high – in order to qualify for asylum, applicants need to show they have suffered or will likely suffer torture or other forms of persecution in their country of origin based on political opinion, race, religion, nationality, or membership in a social group. Since physicians and other healthcare professionals can document physical and mental evidence of torture, we have a critical role to play in the evaluation of people seeking asylum. Unfortunately, the demand for asylum evaluators currently far exceeds the number of doctors and other clinicians prepared to conduct forensic evaluations.

So, in an effort to bolster the number of qualified healthcare professionals who can conduct asylum evaluations, my two colleagues and I summarized standards and best practices in this emerging area of medicine. In press via Harvard’s Health and Human Rights Journal, the paper is open access for anyone who wants to read it or use it as a resource.

Even if you aren’t a healthcare professional, I hope you will take the time to review the paper and share it widely. At a time when more global citizens are at risk for torture and other human rights violations, it is critical that we set the facts straight about asylum law and asylum seekers. Perhaps you could better inform a family member, friend, colleague, or policymaker about the plight of asylum seekers. Or, if you have a doctor, perhaps you could gauge their interest in asylum medicine and point them to the paper to learn more.

With tremendous gratitude to the asylum seekers I have met over the years – including one man I met in New York 17 years ago – I have been humbled by their stories. They have taught me incredible lessons about adversity and what it takes to overcome our collective human history of violence. And they have deepened my sense of justice, patriotism, and compassion through their own.

A New, Objective & Boundless Ethic

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This month marks the fortieth anniversary of the publication of the Belmont Report, a groundbreaking document written to protect children and adults from research abuses. Today, through its emphasis on informed consent and special protections for vulnerable individuals, the report’s reach and influence extends around the globe.

Recently, my colleagues and I penned a paper called “A Belmont Report for Animals?” asking the question of how principles that currently guide human research—such as respect for autonomy, obligations to avoid harm and promote justice, and special protections for vulnerable populations—could be applied to decisions about the treatment of animals. Under the current law, almost anything can be done to an animal in the name of research—primarily because they are seen as something rather than someone. Nonhuman animals of all species can still be subjected to the most severe forms of pain and suffering, without relief. This problem deserves particular reflection during the upcoming World Laboratory Animal Liberation Week beginning on April 22nd.

Although it could be easy to assume that the Belmont Report emerged without controversy, that is simply not the case for most achievements throughout history. One abuse after another—from torture to deceit—prompted the drafting of the Belmont Report. Throughout the twentieth century alone, researchers systematically targeted prisoners in Nazi concentration camps, African-American men living with syphilis in Tuskegee, Alabama, the Havasupai people living with diabetes in a remote part of the Grand Canyon, hospitalized children with cognitive disabilities, and many other individuals and communities. Only when people demanded and fought for change did such atrocities end.

Sadly many similar abuses continue today—and they are one of the many reasons that the time has come for a more honest evaluation of how humans treat other humans as well as how humans treat animals in society.

Our “A Belmont Report for Animals?” paper will be published later this year. But, in the meantime, as so many people and animals suffer around the globe, we are left with a clear mandate: We need a new, objective ethic—one that is principled, consistent, and inclusive. It is no coincidence that next week marks both Animal Cruelty and Human Violence Awareness Week. There are clear links between how we treat people and animals in society—connections that demand our focus and action.

Admittedly, it can be difficult to be mindful of the big picture, particularly when there are so many real and imagined distractions competing for our time and attention. But until we prioritize an objective ethic bound by key principles such as respect, compassion, and justice, we will continue to make ignorant, cruel decisions about the treatment of others. Arbitrary distinctions and values are responsible for the differential treatment of people and animals—whether in research or other areas of society. Bias and arbitrary distinctions also fuel prejudices such as ableism, classism, ethnocentrism, heterosexism, racism, and sexism. Unless we address one problem, we will not fully address the other. As Dr. Albert Schweitzer wrote, “[We] must oppose all cruel customs no matter how deeply rooted in tradition or surrounded by a halo. We need a boundless ethics which will include the animals also.”

With gratitude for the achievements that have been made, there is still so much left to be done. While we need to remain diligent about calling out and stopping abuses within research and other areas of society, we must also be forward thinking. We need to continually ask ourselves how we can ensure that such abuses never occur in the first place. Outside of an objective ethic, I can’t see how. Can you?

 

Hope in a Changing Spring

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It’s hard to believe that spring is just around the corner. Only a few days ago, I looked out my window and found three coyotes huddled together and digging in the snow for some food scraps my husband had dropped the prior evening. As one of the coyotes ate, the other two looked up toward their den, where their kin kept watch on the hill. After they made their way back up to their family, a crow swept in to see what the coyotes had left behind. Nearby, other crows perched on a dead tree and vigilantly took turns with the food. Stella, part of our human-dog family, sat stoically beside me while she meditatively followed their movements. Her only distraction was a raven who flew overhead on her way to join her mate.

Watching the coyotes, crows, ravens, and Stella is a form of meditation for me too. A calm reminder of the beauty and harmony that exists in the world. Of what is possible.

Lately, I’ve been working on another book on the connections between people, animals, and the environment. More than once, I’ve turned to my worn, fading copy of Silent Spring for inspiration. In 1962, two years before her death, biologist and nature writer Rachel Carson published Silent Spring, thoroughly documenting the toxic effects of the insecticide DDT. Within several years, DDT was banned from agricultural use. Through her writing, Carson challenged the idea that humans could master nature through chemicals, bombs, or other forms of destruction. Her work, along with that of environmental justice activists who emerged through the civil rights movement, helped fuel the modern environmental movement.

If you spend any time reading about the environment, you know that there is still so much we need to do to protect the Earth and its earthlings. Human impact has pushed the planet into what scientists now refer to as the Anthropocene, a new geological epoch in which human beings are dramatically affecting the atmosphere, bodies of water, landmass, and other species. Our everyday decisions – including our health choices – wreak havoc on the very planet that we depend on for our health and wellbeing. In turn, climate change and environmental degradation lead to health risks including extreme temperatures and weather patterns, poor air and water quality, food insecurity, and a corresponding rise in instability, violence, and deadly diseases. We are now on the verge of a modern, man-made sixth extinction, in which seventy-five percent of species are expected to go extinct – far worse than what Rachel Carson warned of in Silent Spring.

One might ask if we’re right to have hope. Will time tell, or can we answer now?

It’s been almost one year since my first book, Phoenix Zones, was released. In it, I write about hope as a biological need. Hope can calm us, sooth pain and anxiety, and foster physical and mental wellbeing. It can also lead to incredible social change. But hope is not blind faith immune from reality. Hope builds on knowledge, not only of joy but also of sorrow. It is a brave act in spite of despair.

Although I’m a deeply hopeful person, I prefer to go without rose-colored glasses. Like many activists, I feel compelled to turn toward, rather than away from, vulnerability and suffering, while taking no pleasure from it. Those who fail to acknowledge the struggles and pain of others only further injustice while impeding progress. Turning away is part of the problem, not the solution.

As Carson wrote in Silent Spring,

We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost’s familiar poem, they are not equally fair. The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster. The other fork of the road – the one less traveled by – offers our last, our only chance to reach a destination that assures the preservation of the Earth.

Hope, it seems, is taking the right road in a changing spring. We need hope, and we can create hope, but only if we acknowledge the problems before us. As the coyotes and crows seem to know, our destiny will be determined by the very path we travel.

 

 

 

In Conversation with Mike Anastario, Author of Parcels: Memories of Salvadoran Migration

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To start out the year, I’d like to share my recent conversation with Dr. Mike Anastario, author of the forthcoming book Parcels: Memories of Salvadoran Migration. Mike’s book is so timely, as migration from Central America to the United States has become a highly politicized issue.

Mike has spent the last several years investigating the social memories of individuals from a place he refers to as “El Norteño,” a rural town in El Salvador heavily impacted by the Salvadoran Civil War, fueling a mass exodus to the United States. In Parcels, Mike describes two viajeros (travelers/couriers) who exchanged encomiendas (parcels containing food, medicine, photographs, documents, and letters) for people in the United States and El Salvador. In telling their stories, he explores larger social and cultural issues, including how US actions and policies have impacted many Salvadorans and current migration patterns.

Over the past several years, I’ve had the privilege of working with Mike on human rights issues. Originally from Florida, he is now living in El Salvador as a Fulbright Scholar. Mike is a sociologist, writer, and teacher – not to mention an avid surfer, great listener, and good friend to the dogs he has met in El Salvador.

HF: Mike, great to talk with you, as always. Parcels is so many things at once – one big story, a collection of stories, and a sharp analysis of US policy and its impact. Why did you write Parcels?

MA: I was reading and listening to public discourse in the United States that was concerned with influxes of immigrants, including strategies that were focused on keeping migrants out. That discourse often criminalized and dehumanized migrants as their human rights were being undermined. Absent from that discourse, along with many of the popular retorts, was a deep reckoning of how the United States has played a role in structuring diasporic movements. I thought it was important to raise more consciousness regarding the ways in which the United States government has played a key role in shaping Salvadoran migration phenomena through the decades.

HF: Book dedications often say a lot about a writer. You dedicated Parcels to all your former teachers, especially those who never learned to read or write. Talk a little more about that.

 MA: I think it is important to be conscious of where our knowledge comes from and who makes claims to it. As I conducted interviews and had conversations with various social actors (Salvadoran and US Cold War Veterans, migrants, corn farmers, and couriers), I was reminded that people from all walks of life have experience theorizing about the effects of larger forces on their everyday lives. I spent a lot of time talking with Salvadoran corn farmers about the past, present, and future. Corn farmers provided me with critical information that produced research leads. At the same time, several farmers who had taught me a great deal about transnational power had never learned to read or write. I don’t consider illiteracy a barrier to theorizing, but illiteracy is a barrier to conventional academic discourse. Dedicating the book to them was my way of both expressing gratitude and trying to remain conscious of ongoing epistemic power relations that remain deeply entrenched in academic discourse.

HF: You write about issues that are rarely discussed in the press, including the number of people who have died at the southwestern border, as well as how decades-old US-sponsored counterinsurgency efforts and US policy have influenced migration patterns between El Salvador and the United States. Why was it important for you to cover these issues, and why do you think the mainstream press is so reluctant to talk about them?

 MA: Making the link between billions spent on US counterinsurgency efforts in Central America in the latter part of the 20th century and the fact that the US Border Patrol has cumulatively apprehended more than 175,000 non-Mexicans from the southwestern border and reported more than 6,500 southwestern-border deaths at the beginning of the 21st century is a somewhat complex story that doesn’t lend well to a consumable news bite. That said, not talking publicly about the unintended consequences of US counterinsurgency efforts abroad is one of the ways in which national forgetting is reproduced. When strategies that occupy public attention and national debate include keeping migrants out by spending billions of dollars to build a border wall, the link between those billions of border wall dollars and the billions spent on “aid” to places like El Salvador during its civil war are not the focus of public outrage concerning migration. I would expect this type of outrage in a democratic US nation-state capable of acknowledging and reconciling the complex effects of its previous interventions abroad. However, I think that at this moment in time, our social forgetting in the United States is so strong that we are prone to shortsightedness in how we develop public strategies on (and teach future generations to think about) issues like migration.

HF: In the book, you use the tool of memories – remembered and forgotten – to show how power can be elucidated or obscured. Memory is such an interesting phenomenon. Memories paint how we view ourselves, others, the past, the present, and the future. How have your own memories shaped your interest in migrant narratives?

MA: Listening to memories of migration, for me, is part of my American experience. As a US citizen, I grew up conditioned to listen to migrant narratives. When I was a child my Italian nana used to tell me stories about Napoli during the Second World War. She transmitted her memories of food, homemade liquors, alternative expressions of gender she saw on the street in Italy, the mafia, fascists, homicides, bombs that could destroy families and communities in the blink of an eye, and surreal stories about my ancestors. Her memories, transmitted to me as a young American, were couched in reminders that this is where my people came from. I was born an English-speaking gringo in the United States, but I always identified as Italian-American. That identification was fostered in the transmission of family memories. It is one of the many reasons I remain interested in collective memory.

HF: In the book, you go beyond memories. You describe the interactions between memories – the intangible – and parcels, which are tangible. How did the tangible and intangible in the stories you collected influence each other?

MA: I’ve been paying more attention to the ways in which nonhuman actors interact with collective human memories. In Parcels, I began collecting data by following parcels that were transmitted at high throughput across national boundaries, state security checkpoints, and delivered to kin separated by diasporic divides. Those objects were moved by and stoked memories, including (but not limited to) nostalgia. The movement of parcels also brought my attention to the treatment of couriers as they worked, which opened up a space for talking about occupational memories of their treatment by state security officials over the decades. So, focusing on nonhuman actors was an interactive starting point for me to begin examining dimensions and depths of rural diasporic remembering.

HF: While writing the book, you passed through international state security checkpoints with El Norteño couriers. You also served as a volunteer escort for the US government’s Central American Minors program in order to help refugee children reunite with their parents in the United States. How have Trump’s immigration policies affected your conversations with these and other migrants over time?

MA: Trump’s ascension acted as an external intervention that deeply affected conversations and initial perceptions of me in El Salvador. Many conversations began with people asking me what I thought about Trump, or what I thought about the xenophobic rhetoric that emanated from his speeches. Trump has brought public discourse surrounding immigration to a fever pitch in the United States, but absent from that rhetoric are critical questions regarding the ways in which US counterinsurgency efforts abroad have generated unintended consequences for the US taxpayers of today – the very taxpayers that Trump often appeals to. Discourse that criminalizes migrants offers listeners something to fixate on, as opposed to a critical auto-evaluation of how US governmental actions abroad and foreign policies stoke migration. Numerous undocumented migrants and their family members had something to say to me about these more complex renderings of migration phenomena. I tried my best to synthesize some of those concepts in the book.

HF: How have the US immigrant-detention-industrial complex and family separation policies begun to affect the collective memory of Salvadorans?

MA: In working with rural Salvadorans who have experience with state-sponsored violence, I am particularly preoccupied by what the US government is structuring for Central American children. I have listened to Salvadoran refugee kindergarteners describe their entry into the United States as something akin to experiencing prison. It is children who are not only seeing their parents subject to inhumane treatment by government employees, but it is children who are subject to these policies and complexes. Those experiences are already becoming some of the first collective memories of the United States for our future citizens and residents. The extent of the abuses and traumas that will remain in children’s earliest memories of entry into the United States reflect a parameter of who we collectively are.

HF: In the book, you note that there is no one person, presidential administration, branch, agency, department, or political party that is individually responsible for the silence surrounding violence and collective forgetting over time. What can we each do to improve the integrity of our collective memory, so that we have a clearer view of current events and the influence of policies and practices?

MA: This is a contentious issue. I am personally more interested in productive impulses that promote collective consciousness and action as opposed to strategies that blame, isolate, and risk further reinforcing the silos in which we already find ourselves deeply entrenched today. I personally think we need creative ways to not only disrupt silences, but to foster productive growth out of those silences. We need to pay more attention to Cold War Veterans, particularly those who experienced injuries, deaths, and trauma during their service to nation states during the Cold War. Incorporating Cold War Veteran narratives into national historic sites and memorials could alter consciousnesses and promote engaging dialogue. We can make strides in education by teaching students more about the history of US counterinsurgency efforts abroad, and opening up more discussion regarding the intended and unintended consequences of those efforts. In a nation where the majority descends from immigrant groups to North America, there is great individual value in engaging in open conversations and listening to the experiences, memories, and perspectives of our friends, neighbors, kin, academics, and politicians who identify as having Central American descent. We can promote memory studies among university students to educate the next generation of citizens, government employees, and institution-makers on the complexity and importance of memory to national governments. We can also teach students to use memory studies to inform program evaluations of US interventions abroad.

HF: Mike, Parcels is an incredible book – one that should be required reading for policymakers and students alike. While reading it, I kept envisioning a film patterned after the book. Thank you for writing Parcels, and for all you do.

 

 

Now More Than Ever, We Must Support and Advance Human—and Nonhuman—Rights

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The following blog was first published last week by the Nonhuman Rights Project, in honor of Human Rights Day and International Animal Rights Day. I’m sharing it here, as well, since it is such an important and timely subject. The blog was co-authored by Steven M. Wise, founder and president of the Nonhuman Rights Project.

Today marks Human Rights Day and the 70th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, adopted by the United Nations to acknowledge the importance of respect for the freedom, equality, and dignity of each individual regardless of “race, color, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth, or other status.” It is also International Animal Rights Day, launched on the same date to emphasize that we must extend these values and principles to other species if they are to be taken seriously.

As a human rights physician and a civil rights attorney for nonhuman animals, respectively, we believe we will advance and uphold human rights only if we practice the moral and legal consistency required. This must mean also recognizing the rights of nonhuman animals.

During the course of our work in human and nonhuman animal rights, we have seen what happens when we do not reliably respect the freedom, equality, and dignity of each individual. Families fleeing violence tear-gassed at the US border. Mass incarceration. Survivors of sexual violence struggling to find the support they need to heal and secure justice. Journalists murdered for speaking out against corruption. And we are regularly reminded that we cannot divorce the suffering exacted on humans caught in an unjust system from the sight of orcas in tanks, chimpanzees in labs, or elephants in chains. Nowhere is this more apparent than in court proceedings where the vulnerable are made more so by their lack of voice and political power, forced to live at the mercy of others in a world where their rights have gone unrecognized or unfulfilled.

To some, it may seem flippant, given current threats to human dignity, to argue that we need to examine how our legal systems treat animals. But this reaction fails to see a fundamental connection: the way we treat any living being affects how we treat another.

We have come a long way since the days of Descartes, who popularized the idea that animals were mere machines. We now know that many animals are autonomous beings with powers of deliberation, imagination, intelligence, empathy, love, and other cognitively complex qualities. When deprived of their physiological, cognitive, and social needs, they also suffer like us, whether from pain or mental disorders such as posttraumatic stress and depression. Given all we know about other animals, we should be further along in our respect for their dignity. But the same problem that plagues marginalized humans—prejudice and disregard for their dignity and suffering—plagues animals as well.

This prejudice is used to rationalize treating animals as rightless “things,” invisible to law. At the same time, human rights remain on shaky ground. We can explain our failure to advance the recognition and enforcement of human rights at least in part by our failure to be legally, scientifically, and morally consistent in terms of who counts under the law. We are merely asking for what ASPCA founder Henry Bergh famously and successfully demanded for a human child, Mary Ellen, in 1874, drawing upon animal protection legislation he had secured several years prior: freedom from confinement, a dignified existence, and justice.

Thankfully, progress is beginning to be made. For example, in May of 2018, a judge on New York’s highest court wrote in the Nonhuman Rights Project’s chimpanzee rights cases that “the issue whether a nonhuman animal has a fundamental right to liberty protected by the writ of habeas corpus is profound and far-reaching. It speaks to our relationship with all the life around us. Ultimately, we will not be able to ignore it. While it may be arguable that a chimpanzee is not a ‘person,’ there is no doubt that it is not merely a thing.”

On Dec. 14th, the NhRP will again have the opportunity to argue for the rights of an autonomous animal during a habeas corpus hearing to determine whether the NhRP’s elephant client Happy should be released from her imprisonment at the Bronx Zoo. It is the first such hearing for an elephant.

Far from threatening human rights, consideration of nonhuman animal rights pushes us to look more closely at and maintain the integrity of laws governing the treatment of our fellow human beings. As Martin Luther King, Jr. noted, “Justice denied anywhere diminishes justice everywhere.” The biased and unjust undermining of the rationale for the fundamental rights of nonhuman animals will inevitably severely undermine the rationale for fundamental human rights.

At a time when fundamental rights and principles like liberty and justice are under attack, we cannot succumb to fear and anxiety. We must be bold, push forward, and demand that principles such as liberty, equality and justice be upheld and expanded in a way that is both morally and legally consistent. Society must, at last, fully embrace these principles.

*Image is courtesy of photographer Billy Dodson.

An Interview with Svava Brooks, Child Abuse Survivor & Advocate

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Here, I’d like to share my recent interview with Svava Brooks, a survivor of child sexual abuse and co-founder of the nationwide child abuse prevention and education organization in Iceland called “Blátt áfram.” As a mother, teacher, and author, Svava has dedicated her life to ending the cycle of child abuse through education, awareness, and by helping survivors heal and thrive.

Rather than abbreviating our conversation, I decided to share the entire interview.

Svava’s courage is compelling. Her life sheds light on the vulnerabilities children face and the strength and resilience that is possible. She serves as a reminder that each of us can make a difference in the life of one and the lives of many. I hope that her work on behalf of countless children and survivors inspires you to stand up for kids and others who need it.

HF: Hi, Svava. Thank you for joining me. I really appreciate your taking the time to talk with me.

As we’ve all witnessed, recent news relevant to the #MeToo movement, widespread reports of sexual abuse by leaders of the Roman Catholic Church, and the confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court have brought to light the difficult journey survivors of sexual abuse and assault face. Please tell me about your own journey.

SB: My journey started back in my home country, Iceland, where I was born and raised.  From as young as I can remember until I left home at 18, I was abused sexually, physically, and emotionally by my stepfather. There was domestic violence in my home, and I never went to bed feeling safe. The abuse was unpredictable. I never knew when it was going to happen and I was always hypervigilant. I was constantly on guard, hiding from my stepfather on the outside and hiding from my own shame and guilt on the inside.

Because the abuse happened when I was so young, I did not understand what it was, and I thought it was my fault. I thought I was bad and unlovable and that I had done something to deserve it.

I acted out as a young adult, as a way to cope with the pain and confusion. I would self-harm and find myself in risky situations that led to additional abuse by other men. And even though I was suffering, my main coping skill was to pretend I was okay. I was a straight A student and a good athlete. I practiced ballroom dancing and modeling and did my best to make everything look good on the outside but, inside, I was lost and in a lot of pain.

I made my way to the US to go to college when I was about 24 years old. It was only when I was 6,000 miles away from my home country that I finally felt safe enough to start healing. I was struggling with depression and physical pain that I think were symptoms of chronic stress and toxic tension in my body.

I was blessed to meet my husband just as I was finishing college and, with his support, I found the help I needed to start my healing journey. I found a peer-support group and spent five years with them. I often share that it was not until I was in that group that I started healing. I saw myself in the other group members and finally understood my struggles as I heard others talk about their own. I was a textbook example of an adult who had gone through abuse as a child. It was hard work but I was driven to figure out how the trauma had impacted me and my body, spirit, and life. It was brutal at times but I wanted to understand it in the hopes that it would give me the information I needed to finally start to heal.

The turning point in my healing process was learning about the Adverse Childhood Experiences Study (ACEs) in 2006. Seeing the long-term impact of toxic stress on my body made me serious about starting to take better care of myself. I had been an athlete my whole life but I knew that I had to make some changes in self care, exercise, stress release, and healthy eating. I was open to trying anything so my healing journey consisted of many integrative therapies. I started meditation early on in my healing process. And I learned about bodywork, energy healing, inner child work, emotional release, Reiki, breathwork, and more.

It still took a while to create healthy habits but I was making meaningful, lasting change. Regular exercise and meditation became routine and I was slowly learning how to eat healthier food. But getting connected to my body was the hardest part of my healing. I had disconnected from my body in order to survive, to cope with the pain and the shame that I felt. I kept at it, using mindfulness and self-compassion. TRE (Tension and Trauma Release Exercises) made the biggest difference for me, and it helped bring everything I had already learned together. I now use all of these tools on a daily basis.

HF: In your professional life, you also take a multi-disciplinary approach to ending the cycle of child sexual abuse. Please talk about some of the ways you work with others to prevent, end, and heal from child abuse.

SB: After about 10 years of healing, I wanted to contribute to ending the cycle of child abuse. I would like to think that if the adults around me had given me the words to ask for help, I would not have waited until I was an adult to get help. I found a nonprofit organization in South Carolina called Darkness to Light that had created a booklet for responsible adults on how to keep kids safe from abuse. It included information on how to talk to adults and children, where to go for help, how to respond to disclosures, and how to file a report. I received permission from Darkness to Light to translate and print the booklet into Icelandic and bring it back to my home country. I had an idea to send the booklet to every home in the country to help adults learn how to keep kids safe. I was certain that if good people knew what to do, they would do the right thing.

I did find backing and support for my project in Iceland, and we sent 110,000 copies to every home there. I was not sure what would come of it but I knew education played an important role in bringing awareness to the taboo topic of child abuse.

Soon after sending the booklet to every home in the country, I started receiving calls from people all over the country. They were very grateful for the information but shared that no one wanted to talk about it, so they asked if I would be willing to. I agreed to give a talk and soon after I started talking about child sexual abuse all over the country. I realized that what people needed from me was not so much the words I was saying but how I was saying them. I was showing them how to look someone in the eye with an open heart and talk about a topic that had rarely been discussed openly, if at all. I talked to thousands of adults all over Iceland and it made a big impact. Child abuse reporting rates increased, and people began asking for help.

Darkness to Light soon came out with an evidence-informed child abuse prevention training course called Stewards of Children, which modeled my own experiences. The training is designed to empower adults to take action to prevent child abuse. It focuses on the fact that we, as adults, need to be willing to take risks and ask questions we may not have asked before. We are more likely to ask those questions if we know that other adults support our efforts. Making a choice to speak up keeps our own kids safe and it also sets an example for other adults, toward ensuring all kids in our communities are safe. The two-hour training course equips adults with the information they need to recognize, respond to, and prevent child sexual abuse.

Over the last 14 years, I have travelled all over the world providing the Stewards of Children training, speaking publicly, and working on my own healing. I currently lead peer support groups for men and women, and I provide support as an abuse survivor coach and certified TRE practitioner. My approach is always to empower survivors with the knowledge and tools they need to heal themselves. No one is going to heal us; no one is coming to rescue us. We have to do the hard work of healing ourselves. With information and support, and knowing that someone believes in them, survivors can heal and restore their lives.

Most people that find me have been working on healing for a while. They often feel discouraged and stuck – like they have tried everything but continue to feel bad about what happened to them and that, no matter what, they are haunted by the past in their mind, body, and heart.

I tell my clients that I give them the same tools that I am using, to this day. I start with trauma education: what trauma is and how it impacts the body, their thoughts, and their feelings. We learn to reconnect to the body using TRE. After a few sessions learning to safely use TRE, they can use it on their own. Then we start focusing on the stories that they have told themselves to survive, the thoughts and beliefs they took on as a result of how they felt about what happened to them, feeling their emotions, connecting with their inner child, and using mindfulness and self-compassion. Throughout the process, we focus on self-care, self-regulation, and acceptance.

I work with people one-on-one and in online groups. In a group, individuals get to share their processes and experiences with other survivors and learn from their peers. The focus stays on sharing a healing journey, not just telling a story of abuse. Sharing parts of the story is important for survivors to understand themselves but it is more important to learn how to live in a healthy way and from the heart, not from the hurt.

HF: Please talk a little about your books and why you wrote and published them.

SB: When I was ready to make the shift from survivor to thriver, I was looking for resources – some kind of model with information that could show me the way in a wholehearted, inspiring way. But I couldn’t find the resources I was looking for. So I decided to create a resource that I wish I had.

After three years of blogging about healing after abuse and trauma, sharing my story and the tools I was using for myself and others, I had tons of helpful and hard-to-find information. I decided to create a workbook for survivors: a 365-day guide for survivors to make the shift from living a life focused on the past to living wholeheartedly, grounded, embodied in hope and health, and focused on the now and the future. I called it Journey to the Heart.

A year later, I came out with Releasing Your Authentic Self, another 365-day guide for survivors. The second book includes two questions a day, in which I invite the reader to go deep to find answers, hidden hurts, behaviors, and habits that can be explained by trauma. Using new tools and methods, I encourage survivors to break the cycle of trauma and free themselves from the burdens of their past. The aim is to help survivors achieve clarity and focus on making new choices based on their strengths. Ideally, they should be able to ask themselves what they want in life, who they are without the abuse, what feelings need to be expressed, and the self-care practices they would benefit from to change their lives!

The feedback has been wonderful. I hear from survivors that are using the books with their therapists, and therapists even go on to buy the books for their other clients!

To provide more support for survivors, I also have a closed Facebook group where readers share their daily journal entries and support each other. It has been a very powerful healing tool for many people that don’t have any other safe place to talk about or share the truth of who they are and what they have been through.

HF: When we met, you mentioned that adopting a vegan diet was part of your own healing process. When and how did you first make that connection?

 SB: Yes, it was interesting how that developed. It was my daughter, Sabrina, who inspired the rest of the family to go vegan after she did. I did resist in the beginning but when I started to connect with my body in a deeper way, it created a more meaningful connection to all people, and it slowly started to make more and more sense to me that (nonhuman) animals feel like humans do. They feel pain, fear, and trauma just like we do. And the more you learn about veganism, it becomes clear that humans treat animals in ways that reflect how we treat each other. I started to listen to other vegans and read about the impact of industrial farming on our environment and the conditions that animals endure while being raised for slaughter. And it just became clear to me: Eating another creature was no longer an option. It was simply wrong.

I do not judge other people that still eat and use animal products. It was a process for me, too, and it took time. I did not see the truth until I was ready to see it. Any change can feel threatening. What we eat and our relationship with food are deeply ingrained in us. Our relationship with what we eat is a part of our value system, how we raise our kids, and how we socialize – so until we are equipped with the right information and support system, making a change in diet can be difficult.

Interestingly, since becoming a vegan, I have noticed many similarities in how people respond to statistics about child sexual abuse and arguments for veganism, including the unethical treatment of animals in farming practices, the correlation between animal farming and climate change, and the negative effects some of our favorite foods have on our bodies.

When people are not aware of the statistics of how prevalent child sexual abuse is, they are a bit shocked and they can be a bit defensive. One in four girls and one in six boys are sexually abused before they turn 18 years old, and these statistics cut across all social and economic groups. Ninety percent of kids know and trust their abuser. As adults, we often know and trust the person who is a potential threat! And it makes people just as uncomfortable to be faced with the facts that an animal had to die with the purchase of their meal, that an animal suffered when they didn’t have to, and that an animal product could actually be causing health problems. It isn’t something we want to hear because we love our food; it makes us happy!

The first step toward change is to be willing to accept facts and take action. It can feel a little uncomfortable at first. I believe people don’t do anything until they know what to do and when they have the support of others. But when people decide to take action, whether it’s for children, animals, or others, they can make a difference, create immediate change, and empower others to do the same. I find that people do want to be a part of the solution once they are aware of the existence of the problem and aware of the ability to help!

HF: From the moment I met you, you appeared very comfortable with embracing and sharing your own vulnerability. How can others do the same?

SB: It took a long time and lots of practice. All I knew for a long time was protecting myself, remaining on guard all the time, and expecting the worst from people, especially those closest to me that would be able to see signs of vulnerability.

I had to learn how the hurt I grew up with created my habits, thoughts, and beliefs about myself and the world. When I finally understood that the abuse I suffered was not my fault, my body responded accordingly. I stopped blaming myself and I was able to finally see that vulnerability wasn’t going to hurt me and that it will actually make my life better.

As I learned to get back in touch with my body and how to express my feelings in a safe way, and once I believed that I was a good human being who cared deeply about others, I found peace and joy in being myself. Finally learning who I was required becoming vulnerable and getting in touch with my heart and compassion. As I started to practice self-compassion, I also started to take much better care of myself and my body by honoring my needs and asking for support. All of these important aspects of being human come from being vulnerable and connecting to ourselves first, so that we can then connect to others.

Finding my way to vulnerability is also how I learned to love and respect myself, which then led to me respecting all creatures because I see myself in all of them.

We are all unique but we all hurt the same way. We struggle and suffer in isolation. In order to bring ourselves back to wholehearted living, we need the help of other kind, compassionate beings that model back to us kindness, compassion, respect, and warmth, which some of us may never have received.

HF: We live in a society that still discounts many children’s voices. Do you see a positive shift in the way people talk about and treat children today?

SB: Yes, I do see that it is starting to shift but we still have a long way to go. The old way of “do as I say, not as I do” doesn’t work, and I think kids and especially young adults are starting to push back on old parenting paradigms.

Young adults are growing up to have their own children, and they are exploring different ways to raise kids. I recently gave a speech in which I mentioned how kids learn and grow through each developmental stage with a healthy, loving, and supportive family or community.  Kids that are treated with respect commonly respect themselves and others. Kids that are supported and encouraged also encourage others and know how to ask for support if they need it. Kids that are loved also love themselves and others. And with that same logic, kids that grow up with harsh punishment, over-competitiveness, and abusive behavior then punish and abuse themselves and others and never feel good enough. But I think things are shifting as society learns what kinds of parenting styles clearly work.

Over the last few weeks, I have been a part of a community dialogue in Oregon with more than 60 people that all work on providing services to children and families, using the appreciative inquiry model (focus on what works, not what does not work) to create community-wide change. The long-term process and vision focus on how to end child abuse by 2050 in one county. The heart of this conversation focuses on talking to and including children and young adults in every step of the strategy because they are the next generation. I think the realization that we need to include and work with younger generations to create change is happening in many communities in many parts of the world.

HF: I became teary-eyed and chilled when you mentioned ending child abuse in your community by 2050. I wish every community would make the same commitment. What can each of us do now to better protect children?

SB: There is a fantastic quote from the movie Spotlight that always sticks with me: “If it takes a village to raise child, it takes a village to abuse one.” Abuse thrives because of fear and denial, not just in one person but in a long line of people behind a child that either don’t see the signs or refuse to hear them. We can’t expect kids to come to us to ask for our help if they don’t know what abuse is, what words to use, and why it’s bad, and that it is OKAY to talk about. When we do not openly talk about abuse with other adults and kids, we are furthering the silence that protects abusers. Kids are abused by people they know and trust, so we need to be willing to take risks, talk to all adults – even when it feels uncomfortable – because there could be a child waiting for someone to model that they are a safe person to talk to or ask for help.

If talking about child sexual abuse feels uncomfortable, get educated. You can learn online from resources like Darkness to Light. It just takes a few hours to complete a training course so you can become better equipped in preventing and responding to suspicion of abuse or filing a report if you need to. It is a very worthy investment in learning how to protect yourself, your kids, and your community. And make sure you spend time getting to know other parents, coaches, teachers, and community leaders around you. Don’t bury your head in the sand about those that spend the most time with your children and other children. Be proactive and don’t be afraid to ask difficult questions of the people you are trusting with your children. It is a lot of responsibility, and it is your job as the adult to make sure that every single adult that comes in contact with your child is safe, dependable, and trustworthy.

HF: That is such important advice for all of us – including those of us who don’t have children. On a personal note, how do you refuel and maintain your optimism and determination?

SB: I use the same tools that I teach other survivors who are learning to heal after abuse or trauma. I start every day with self care, taking care of my body, mind, and spirit.

Because I came to understand the toxic impact of stress on my body and wellbeing, I have made self care a priority. I also see it as my responsibility as a parent and practitioner. I don’t have any business helping others survivors or raising my children if I don’t practice taking care of and helping myself first. You can’t pour from an empty cup.

I exercise five times per week. I meditate and journal daily and always make sure to heal my body with plant-based and nutritious meals. I center my life around meaningful relationships and fulfillment. I have always been determined to understand myself and I love to learn new things. What keeps me going is the hopeful news that we can change. We are in a golden age of human transformation and I want to empower anyone who will listen that they can take charge of their life and wellbeing. We have a choice every day. We can choose what is best for us. And when we choose what is best for us, we also want what is best for others.

My journey is a spiritual one. I am here to serve as many people as I can. Sometimes it is one person or one creature at the time. Being fully connected and present with another being, engaged in conversation about life, love, and living wholeheartedly, makes my heart sing.

HF: Thanks so much, Svava, for sharing your story and such important information. Is there anything else you’d like to add?

SB: Thank you, Hope, for all that you do. Your book is amazing and your focus and information is important for us right now. Human and animals, we are in this together.  You challenged my thinking. I love when that happens! In your book, you shared the important work being done by so many different organizations and people. You gave me hope. And for that I am eternally grateful.

HF: Thank you, Svava. And I am eternally grateful to you for all you do – especially toward the protection of children, who are so vulnerable in society. You are proof of how one person can make an incredible difference in the world.

 

*Photo credit: Aaron Burden on Unsplash.

When Confronting Violence, Process Matters—And So Do Principles

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The past few weeks have been difficult for many—especially survivors of sexual violence. The Senate hearings that ultimately resulted in Judge Brett Kavanaugh being sent to the Supreme Court served as a reminder that we still have a long way to go toward respecting individuals like Dr. Christine Blasey Ford who report sexual assault allegations.

As I wrote for the University of Chicago Press’s Chicago Blog, process matters.

Unfortunately, the hearings became partisan rather than focused on the most appropriate process for evaluating allegations of sexual violence.

From the beginning to the end of the half-hearted investigation into Dr. Blasey Ford’s and other women’s allegations against Judge Kavanaugh, the Senate did everything wrong—in contrast to what those of us in medicine call a trauma-informed approach, which respects the autonomy and dignity of survivors.

As I wrote at the link above for the Chicago Blog,

In my book Phoenix Zones: Where Strength Is Born and Resilience Lives, I shared stories of my observations as a physician working with trauma survivors, including many who experienced sexual violence. I began writing the book in an effort to understand how we can promote more empathy, resilience, and nonviolence among individuals and within society. Over my career, I have especially struggled to understand how we can help victims of violence heal and find their own strength and resilience.”

As I learned while writing Phoenix Zones, a spirit of justice is critically important—both to the health and wellbeing of survivors and to society more generally. In the context of sexual violence, justice requires a fair and respectful process that accounts for individual vulnerabilities.

There is some hope regarding the restoration of a just process. After Judge Kavanaugh’s confirmation, Chief Justice John Roberts requested that the Tenth Circuit investigate ethics questions related to the behavior and seating of Judge Kavanaugh.  At a time when values such as justice and regular order have come under attack, I’ve been cautiously encouraged by Chief Justice Roberts’s actions, which suggest that he is taking seriously at least some of the allegations against Judge Kavanaugh.

There is no doubt that we need to closely examine the merits of many of our existing institutions, but we also need to ensure that, in doing so, we uphold the principles that matter most—including respect, fairness, compassion, and the right to be protected from bodily trespasses and other serious harm.

Every day, the news serves as a reminder of how these principles are under attack. One of the most recent egregious examples is the evident murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi inside a Saudi consulate in Turkey and the international community’s slow response to hold Saudi Arabian officials accountable. In some cases, international leaders appear to have sacrificed principles for profit and perceived personal advantage.

If we need a reminder of the principles we should stand for, inside and outside the United States, we need only to read Mr. Khashoggi’s column in the Washington Post. As one of his editors noted, he wrote “out of a sense of love for his country and deep faith in human dignity and freedom.” We could all do more of the same, whether we are public officials, journalists, or citizens.

*Photo by Tom Coe on Unsplash.

 

How Journalists, Artists & Physicians are Shaping the Healthcare Debate: The “SOME PEOPLE” (Every)Body Exhibition

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Today, few issues are non-partisan. However, one subject that is becoming less partisan involves how people rate the quality of healthcare in the United States. Access to affordable, high-value healthcare matters to all individuals, though it touches some more intimately than others. In the first three months of 2018, more than 28 million children and adults were uninsured. Though that number has dropped by approximately 20 million since 2010, in large part due to the Affordable Care Act, problems with access to healthcare remain. About five percent of children between the ages of zero and seventeen—some of the most vulnerable individuals in society—remain uninsured, and far more are considered underinsured.

Even children and adults who are covered by private or public health insurance face difficulties accessing healthcare. The high cost of care, inadequate coverage, and lack of services or culturally competent care fuel disparities in access to healthcare. Access to healthcare frequently varies based on race, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, age, sex, disability status, sexual orientation, gender identity, and zip code. As a result, people often experience unmet health needs, delays in receiving appropriate care, inability to obtain preventive services, financial burdens, and preventable hospitalizations—all of which further increase healthcare costs.

As I’ve written before, going forward, it is important that we consider which principles should guide changes in healthcare policy. Based on the overwhelming evidence and experiences around the globe, it is clear that policies should reflect key values like equity, compassion, and solidarity, as well as a focus on prevention and evidence-based care. Together, we need to figure out how we can best translate these principles into action—begging the question of how we can improve dialogue around such an important topic.

Curator Kimberly J. Soenen and her colleagues have some ideas. Soenen is curating a multiplatform photography and art exhibition called “SOME PEOPLE” (Every)Body which reveals our universal vulnerability as it relates to the nation’s healthcare policy debate. The exhibition includes images, writings, and art of professional journalists, writers, artists, and healthcare providers. Comprised of a growing digital and soon-to-be live exhibition, select contributions are viewable on Instagram at @HealthOverProfit.

I had the privilege of contributing a brief piece, which tells the story of the included image here. As I note in my contribution to the exhibition, we need to confront key questions such as: “To what do we owe each other? Who is the ‘other’ or ‘some people’? and How can we nurture each other’s vulnerabilities rather than ignoring or exploiting them?”

As art often does, I suspect this exhibition will help us find answers to these and related questions. It will allow us to see the healthcare policy debate more clearly—both in terms of our vulnerable bodies and universal fragility and our potential for resilience.

Soenen aims to open the live exhibition in Chicago in 2019. She is working to engage patients, medical students, healthcare providers, policymakers, mental health professionals, members of the private health insurance industry, and other key stakeholders. News of the exhibition and related programming across the United States will be announced in the year ahead.

You can get involved! Crystal Hodges, a contributor to “SOME PEOPLE” (Every)Body, is creating an art installation that communicates the ways in which individuals suffer as a result of current practices within the United States private health insurance industry. Soenen is collecting correspondence from private health insurance companies to patients to be included in Hodges’ art installation. The installation will be unveiled on opening night in 2019.

If you would like to contribute a letter or multiple letters or documents concerning denial of a healthcare service, delays or restrictions in services, inflated costs, onerous bills, bankruptcy caused by medical bill debt or other challenges associated with healthcare delivery, send PDFs or scanned letters to Kimberly Soenen at:

[email protected]

Subject Line: DENIAL

*Letters will be reviewed and considered for inclusion. Retract the personal information you wish before submitting.

Because, in a debate that affects all of our lives and bodies, we all have something to contribute.

Follow “SOME PEOPLE” (Every)Body on Instagram @HealthOverProfit.

Moral Conviction and Civility Can Coexist. In Fact, They Must.

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As is well known by now, over the weekend, Senator John McCain died of brain cancer. Since his death, people around the world have expressed their respect for and gratitude to the man who survived more than five years of imprisonment and torture while he was a prisoner of war in Vietnam. When given the chance to leave his fellow prisoners of war behind, he did not. Since his death, we’ve also learned more about his sense of humor and self-deprecation and the ways in which he mentored and stood up for younger senators, particularly women.

Although I did not agree with many of Senator McCain’s policy views or political choices, I will always be grateful to him for taking a moral stand against torture when too few others would. His policy decisions were more complicated but, nonetheless, he was vocal in his opposition to torture—asserting that it is both wrong and ineffective. With the moral authority of a torture survivor, he rightly called “enhanced interrogation techniques” such as waterboarding, sleep deprivation, and electric shock what they are: torture. His outspoken resistance to torture was meaningful to other torture survivors around the globe and to those of us who have had the privilege of knowing and caring for them.

Senator McCain’s influence went beyond moral courage. He showed how a strength of conviction could coincide with civility. Both, he argued, are possible with humility. Like all of us, John McCain was an imperfect human being. Perhaps what made him stand out was how he embraced that vulnerability, continued to strive for his own code of ethics, and struggled to understand that of others and bridge the gaps in between. He appeared to understand that, in order to find solutions to today’s and tomorrow’s problems, we must both identify values that matter and listen to each other with respect and empathy.

There are many reasons to be encouraged about the future. However, there is also reason to worry about the silos we have created for ourselves—too often, without enough thought or compassion. We could all do a better job creating bridges instead of walls. I hope that, in the weeks and months to come, we can thoughtfully reflect on some of the life lessons provided by people like Senator McCain and United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan, who also died this month after a lifetime of demonstrating his own moral convictions and civility. Other notable figures have done the same, from civil rights icons Martin Luther King, Jr. and Rosa Parks to environmental crusader Rachel Carson to animal rights pioneer Tom Regan and so very many others. Though no one is perfect, they provided workable examples of how deeply held moral convictions and civility can coexist—even in the form of civil disobedience. As Senator McCain and they have shown, simultaneously holding onto moral convictions and civility is not always easy, but few worthwhile things in life are.

 

The Unnatural Power of Place: Borders & Boundaries

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Over the past few years, questions about who belongs where have dominated the news. Stories about migration. Legal and illegal immigration. Nativism. Colonialism. These issues have triggered deep emotional responses and plenty of punditry, though less attention has focused on the ideas that underlie them. Perhaps it’s time for us to take a deeper look.

As a child, I often saw myself as both an insider and an outsider. I suspect that’s how many children feel, although I can trace much of my ambivalence about belonging anywhere to the fact that my parents were from different parts of the world. Even as a kid, I recognized the power that contradiction provided. It offered an opportunity for me to deepen my empathy for others, widen my circle of compassion, and become comfortable in my individualism no matter where I am in the world. Since belonging can be closely tied to possession (as I discuss below), my ambivalence shaped the lens through which I see concepts such as borders, ownership, and identity. It has also heavily influenced the way I approach medicine and ethics, including my work in human and animal rights, hopefully for the better.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about borders—specifically, their purpose and their problems.

Here are the three questions with which I’ve most been grappling:

Are borders morally defensible?

This is a big question, and it’s worth considering. It inherently requires reflecting on whether the earth can ever truly belong to anyone, and how land becomes a possession—to individuals, groups, corporations, or governments.

In the 1800s, Chief Sealth of the Duwanish Tribe in the State of Washington captured the problem well in a letter to President Franklin Pierce, after receiving a request to sell land to the US government. He said,

How can you buy or sell the sky—the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. Yet we do not own the freshness of the air or the sparkle of the water. How can you buy them from us? Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.”

Of course, the truth of how the US government displaced indigenous communities in what is now known as America is well known. In most cases of border creation, one group has invaded another and taken away land, frequently through violence or deceit. Another invasion or war may occur years later, and borders are redrawn again. One group becomes displaced; another moves in. Others are prevented from moving into the area until some shift occurs. And so the cycle continues. It would be difficult to assert who, if anyone, in these cases has a rightful claim to the territory at stake.

Nonetheless, for better or worse, today we live in a world in which borders have been drawn, often by those in power. National sovereignty is an internationally recognized concept. However, we should not confuse whether a borderless world is possible with whether it is morally defensible. Nor should we confuse the right to individual bodily sovereignty (the right to move freely and protect one’s body from harm) with national sovereignty. Though there is a clear legal and ethical tension between these concepts, they are not morally equivalent—which brings me to my next question.

Is it possible to balance law and order with tolerance and compassion?

To this question, I would answer, absolutely. Borders, which are as old as agricultural civilization, did not create law, order, and justice. If we consider the treatment of many humans and nonhumans along the way, it could be argued that justice was disregarded on the path to what we call civilization.

On a recent episode of Amanpour on PBS, Professor Alexander Betts of the University of Oxford Refugee Studies Centre offered a thoughtful, compassionate, and just framework for sustainable human migration, including a kind response to refugees and asylum seekers. As a student of forced migration and international affairs, Betts has suggested a clear strategy that balances law and order with tolerance and compassion.

When thinking about migration we can also take a lesson from other animals, who are far more likely to make room for other animals (including us) than to engage in conflict. Exceptions might include situations in which resources are severely limited. This point brings me to the last of my three questions.

When making policies about borders and the use of land, sea, and air, how do we move forward in a thoughtful way?

I’m not exactly sure of the best and most realistic answer to this question, but it’s clear that we need to move beyond predominant ideas, “western” ideas, and “modern” ideas about civilization, in particular. We also need to move beyond human-centric ideas. As scientists have recently pointed out, fences and walls erected along international boundaries threaten the health and wellbeing of people and animals.

In his letter to President Pierce, Chief Sealth went on to say,

If I decide to accept your offer to buy our land, I will make one condition. The white man must treat the beasts [interpreted as “nonhuman animals”] of this land as his brothers. I am a savage [interpreted as “animal,” as we are all human animals] and I do not understand any other way. I have seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairies left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. What is man [the human species] without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from great loneliness of the spirit, for whatever happens to the beast also happens to man.”

Whether he intended to or not, Chief Sealth captured a critical connection between the rights, health, and wellbeing of people and animals.

It is possible to foster community even as communities change, to co-exist in a peaceful manner, and to move beyond a zero-sum game. In fact, it is necessary to our survival and the very earth we depend upon—to say nothing of the multiverse we live in, with its many hidden mysteries that we cannot even begin to imagine. From such a distance, borders become blurred by the slope of the land, the turbulence of the sea, and the flow of the air—reminding us that no matter what borders we draw, we all share in the fate of the planet.

 

The accompanying image is of a dog looking through the international border separating the United States and Mexico. Credit: Creatista.

 

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