Learning to stand up for oneself is a hard skill to develop and even more so when one is navigating this under established power dynamics. The fear of having one’s concerns discarded without question is another daunting factor. To see them reduced to mere imagination and dismissed has always been, for me, an even bigger disappointment than the actual issue at hand. It feels as if I am incapable of having agency and a sense of self-awareness of my feelings.
Before I moved to Germany, I had visited the country twice and during one of those visits I had decided to do a short introductory course in the language. I remember always having a problem with the pronunciation of the letter K during this period and no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t get it and especially when it was part of a word.
The teacher had decided that the best way for him to help me was to make me repeatedly say the acronym “KKK”. He then proceeded to ask me if I was aware of the American white supremacist hate group. My whole body had shut down. I remember not saying anything for the remainder of the class and walking back to the apartment with tears streaming down my face and thinking whether there was not another example he could have used.
I didn’t have the words to verbalise at the time why it made me so upset and how wrong it felt, but in the moment I knew it wasn’t right. It felt like an intentional act possibly to scare me into learning faster. Despite knowing how I felt, I still wrestled constantly with whether this was simply a teaching method or a micro aggression.
Many of us, in the exact moment when we have been wronged, hardly find the suitable words to address our distress. And how can we? Our bodies naturally go into a state of shock and somehow freeze. The teacher apologised profusely later in the day by email and then verbally the next day, before I even got a chance to say how horrible of an experience it was. I let it go, but I have always held a deep sense of regret for not penning a letter to the school.
Fast forward nine years later, I have found myself in a similar situation. A different learning environment, but still with behaviour that singles me out and isolates me. The only difference is, this time the experiences are observed and validated by my classmates.
One would think with such support I would feel more secure in myself to launch a complaint immediately but it has taken me roughly three months to build up the courage to do so. Perhaps it’s not only the fear of our concerns being reduced, but a deep desire to seem like an easy-going person.
To not be the troublemaker and an even stronger desire to be liked, even when it comes at a personal expense.
Perhaps what so many of us are afraid of when we choose to suppress is anticipated fear as it relates to how these relationships will be altered. I did send the letter and I did feel a sense of immediate relief. It does not matter for me whether something comes out of it, in this particular moment. What was ultimately important was forcing myself to practise acting in a way that honours how I feel. If by doing so relationships get disrupted then they aren’t meant to be.
We have no one to blame but ourselves when we suppress our feelings and let things slide in the name of keeping the faith. Ideally, all relationships should be equitable and if we aren’t comfortable enough to raise our concerns then they will never add the value intended to in the long run.
Just like how I have learnt to properly pronounce the K in German, may we all learn to actively advocate for ourselves habitually, regardless of the nature of the relationships we are involved in.
