Channel Kindness

by Born This Way Foundation Reporters

  They are:

  “Let me know how I can support you.”

  “I believe you.”

  “It’s real, but you will get through this.”

  Those phrases can also be used in everyday conversations with friends, family members, or coworkers who just need a sounding board. They summon kindness, which Josh defines beautifully by saying,

  “Kindness is an interaction where everyone involved leaves feeling better than they did before.”

  Empathy is crucial to being kind, Josh believes, just as he thinks being kind is a key to personal happiness.

  What else can we do to help others in crisis? As a society, he would love to see us all do more to be kind to one another by embracing a culture that prioritizes mental health and advocates for those in need—instead of stigmatizing anyone with an issue. At the very least, as a society, we can ask people struggling with their mental health, “How can I support you?”

  We can listen and learn more from one another. Josh said it best: “It takes a while to learn how to be human.”

  Inspired by Josh to look for ways you can become a kinder, braver, more empathetic person? Then he’s got some good advice for you: “Forget the Golden Rule, or the Platinum Rule. Treat others how they want to be treated.”

  Isaiah, you start your piece so powerfully, I just need to repeat it again: When you become a channel for kindness, both for the giving and the receiving of it, you learn that you are never really alone. You are so right. One of the kindest things we can do is to be honest with ourselves and authentically share our story. What you may find by telling your story is that in doing so, it validates your emotions and makes it easier for other people to tell their stories. People are more likely to feel safer, more comfortable, and less alone when they hear about someone who has gone through a similar experience. To share your story and read about other people’s stories, we encourage you to check out StoryCorps or The Moth.

  20

  FROM NEW YORK BYSTANDER TO BRAVE ALLY

  JOSH GREENBLATT

  Courage can be hard to call on when hate shows its face.

  In my memories, I can still see images of that face and hear its voice. I can remember a woman yelling at me, warning that when I got off the subway, her friends would beat me up. I remember a man whispering in my ear that he had just gotten out of prison, that he had murdered people, and that he really needed my money. I remember walking, minding my own business, when someone started hurling all sorts of slurs and insults at me. The list of moments when I have felt unsafe, frozen in panic, goes on and on.

  But there’s another list of mine that is even longer and haunts me even more. It’s the list of moments when I have seen someone else’s safety being threatened and did not intervene.

  I’m ashamed to admit it, but the same fear that paralyzed me when I was being targeted always seemed to overtake me when I saw someone else being harassed. That’s why, when I saw it, I instantly clicked the article on a friend’s social media post about bystander intervention training.

  The article noted that in the wake of the 2016 election, there was a steep rise in the number of Islamophobia-related incidents. A young New York–based woman who happens to be Muslim and wears a hijab no longer felt comfortable walking home by herself. Her friends put out a request on Facebook for people who would be willing to walk with her. And it went viral. More than three thousand everyday New Yorkers immediately signed the Google Doc—with another five thousand signing soon afterward.

  Practically overnight, the overwhelming response from total strangers led to the creation of The Accompany Project. An initiative of the Arab American Association of New York (AAANY), The Accompany Project’s goal, as they describe it, is “to train thousands of New Yorkers to disrupt violence— particularly against Arab, Muslim, and undocumented residents—and to organize for stronger, safer neighborhoods.” And it all began with a simple, brave gesture of concern to help one young woman who felt unsafe.

  The Accompany Project’s volunteer coordinator, Julia Martin, and the organization’s lead trainer, Rachel Levy, pointed out that Muslims are not the only targets of hateful speech and violence. According to their website, by teaching Bystander Intervention and Organizing 101 classes across the city, the group is able to combat racism as well as Islamophobia while empowering concerned citizens to help out any marginalized person they see being mistreated.

  The comprehensive training class I attended was a major eye-opener. When I signed up, I was impressed by how easy it was to schedule and by the fact that it was priced on a donation basis. Upon my arrival, I was struck all the more by the kind and forward-thinking environment created by the teachers. At the start, we were asked our preferred pronouns, and it was made clear that we should not assume anyone else’s gender, ethnicity, or level of ability.

  The kindness, inclusion, and intelligence of the approach taken by AAANY and The Accompany Project seems to be completely at the forefront of intersectionality and social justice.

  In learning how to stand up for myself and others, it was helpful to gain a better understanding of how the intersectionality of class, gender, ethnicity, race, and so on can give way to overlapping forms of disadvantage and discrimination. So too was embracing the idea that the actions we take on behalf of one another, like walking with someone in places that cause them fear, is central to social justice. Such concepts stuck out for me, as did the empowerment that comes from a small shift in vocabulary, from victim to survivor.

  Through the training, I discovered how much power we all have to change situations that might ordinarily make us feel powerless. The class started with exercises that sharpened our ability to read body language, connecting us at the same time to how our own bodies can communicate more confidently and authoritatively—whether we’re in fight-or-flight mode or not. We talked openly about all the reasons why we stay bystanders instead of becoming upstanders and actually intervene. Fortunately, however, the training went on to give us many tools for doing more than merely standing by.

  Prompts for remembering effective intervention options were reviewed as the four Ds—Direct, Delegate, Distract, and Delay—along with a discussion of the many ways they can be applied. We were also taught several verbal de-escalation strategies.

  Rachel Levy emphasizes that it’s advisable to name the “specific behavior that is inappropriate.” Rather than sounding oppositional, she adds, it’s a good idea to foster a sense of unity by referring to yourself and the perpetrator as “we.” Each strategy provides guidance on ways to speak or behave that Rachel says can “safely disrupt a hostile or aggressive situation you may witness and … ensure your actions are more helpful than harmful.”

  The Accompany Project was born from the kindness that I’ve learned can help defuse—and ultimately overcome—hateful, threatening rhetoric. Knowing others have your back is enough to let you know that, yes, you too can find the courage to be an upstanding citizen on behalf of someone who doesn’t feel safe.

  Josh’s story about bravely standing up for strangers in the face of hate is further proof that we all need to channel kindness and look out for one another. No one should ever be bullied or discriminated against for being who they are. I don’t put up with it any time I see it, online or in person—and you shouldn’t, either. To take a bystander intervention training in New York, check out The Accompany Project; or to promote inclusiveness and love in your own neighborhood, check out Hate Has No Home Here.

  JOSH GREENBLATT

  As we all spread the word, it’s so encouraging to know that the adjustments we learn to make in our own neighborhoods are the kinds of changes in mindset that can shift the entire world.

  21

  Only with CONSENT

  EM HOGGETT

  Acquaintance rape was not a term that Californian Jasmin Enriquez had ever heard until one day in a women’s studies class at Pennsylvania State University, when a visiting lecturer presented startling statistics about its prevalence
. The presenter discussed the fact that 90 percent of rape survivors personally knew their rapist before the assault occurred. Jasmin also learned that because many don’t know what to call what’s happened to them, acquaintance rape often goes unreported.

  Sitting in class that day, a light bulb went off for her. In high school, Jasmin had been forced to have sex with someone she thought loved her. Afterward, she couldn’t understand what had happened. She knew that she felt disgusting, that something felt wrong “in her bones,” but she didn’t know why. She couldn’t speak to anyone about it, fearing she would be judged for going against her Catholic values by having sex before marriage—even though the act had been without her consent.

  “I never imagined I would be raped. I thought that happened to people who were walking down the street, not something that could happen by someone who loved you,” she explained.

  Attempting to put the trauma behind her, Jasmin eagerly went off to her dream college, where she soon developed a friendship with a young man she trusted—someone whom she believed cared for her. Much to her shock, one night at a fraternity house, for the second time in her life, she was raped—again, an act that she still didn’t have the knowledge to name.

  Jasmin felt traumatized by both situations but didn’t have answers as to how they could have happened, let alone why. Finally, in that moment of realization in her women’s studies class, she was able to identify the rapes for what they were. Both times, she had fallen into the 90-percent category of people who experience acquaintance rape.

  She knew right away that a broader conversation had to happen and resolved to play an active role in getting more people to talk about sexual assault—starting with her own campus. Though she hadn’t intended to start a club, she sort of stumbled onto the idea that a campus group of some sort could better collaborate with the college’s student government to get out the word about activities and awareness building. Fittingly, Jasmin named the club Only With Consent and quickly began to mobilize, organizing events around improving communication and educating all students about sexual assault and consent on campus.

  After she graduated in 2014, under her guidance, Only With Consent became an official nonprofit with the goal of creating a far-reaching system that educates people on consent, from infancy to adulthood. Jasmin’s passion is contagious. She insists,

  “I want to teach about consent in schools and reinforce it in the community. I want it to be a conversation. I want people to become passionate about asking their partner for consent.”

  Her vision includes raising children with an understanding of their own bodily anatomy, teaching them age-appropriate consent language, and encouraging parents to educate their kids about consent. Consent education, she says, ought to continue from birth to college, into the workplace, and beyond.

  You are never too young or too old to have safe boundaries.

  She emphasizes, “It’s a problem most people don’t understand or talk about openly. I think it’s necessary that everyone get an education about consent, regardless of age, background, anything. The best-case scenario is that we educate every single person about consent.”

  In all communities, and in most circles, Jasmin has found that the conversations about acquaintance rape and the right to say no are long overdue. The response has been positive. “Most people say they wish they had this message when they were younger.”

  Currently, Only With Consent—run by Jasmin, together with her husband, Mike—works with universities, teaching workshops, giving presentations, and collaborating on awareness events. They also have footprints in communities concerned about keeping all citizens safe—whether in relationships, in homes, or on the street—and have taken part in major public events like Comic Con and San Diego Pride.

  At every step of her journey to prevent and end sexual assault, Jasmin has encountered countless others who, like her, felt something wrong after a sexual experience to which they didn’t consent. As a youth reporter working with the Born This Way Foundation, I am no exception. The term acquaintance rape was one I’d never heard, either, and when I had an experience similar to Jasmin’s, I went for months without knowing what had actually happened to me.

  When the opportunity came up to interview Jasmin for a profile in kindness and bravery, I leaped at it. As fellow survivors, both working to spread awareness of sexual assault, we have much in common and know there is more work to do.

  Over the phone, Jasmin and I wondered, How many other people are out there who have been raped and do not even know it?

  We talked about both women and men who feel a sense of self-loathing and confusion over their experience, with no understanding as to why they feel as they do.

  We talked about a very public turning point for survivors that occurred at the 2016 Oscars, when Lady Gaga sang “Til It Happens to You”—the song she cowrote with Diane Warren for the 2015 documentary The Hunting Ground, which exposes widespread problems of sexual assault on college campuses. As a survivor of sexual abuse herself, Lady Gaga included fifty fellow survivors onstage with her at the Oscars, which went on to bring down the house.

  Among those fifty fellow survivors was Jasmin Enriquez. Naturally, I was curious to know how she ended up on that stage for such a pivotal moment. She told me that after being interviewed in The Hunting Ground, the community involved in the film stayed in touch, supporting one another and working together to amplify the discussion. “So,” she elaborated, “when the Oscars were approaching, the team reached out to us to ask if we wanted to take part.”

  She was honored and said yes without hesitation.

  My questions for Jasmin continued.

  CHANNEL KINDNESS: What was the main thing you took from the Oscars?

  JASMIN: That there are so many people who have a story. It was one of the first times I felt not alone in what I was going through, in a public space, and I hoped that through that, other people realized that they’re not alone and that there’s a community out there that supports them, too.

  CHANNEL KINDNESS: What other advice would you give survivors who are struggling to cope?

  JASMIN: The most helpful thing for me personally is trying to remind myself to have self-compassion along the way.

  She added that everyone has their own means of finding methods for self-healing.

  For her, cooking is very therapeutic. Hobbies, outlets like exercise, and being in nature, as well as therapy or finding someone with a good ear are all constructive steps to take. She has also found that joining a local group that helps educate others about the issues of sexual abuse can be lifesaving.

  CHANNEL KINDNESS: Any advice for survivors who want to heal through some sort of creative outlet or launching their own nonprofit?

  JASMIN: Just start with whatever feels right for you. Take it one day at a time. Start where you feel moved, and it’ll grow as you express yourself. You might share it with friends or community. Just do what feels right. When I share my story, I feel like I’m connecting to others. I always remind myself that I’m doing Only With Consent to help myself and help others along the way.

  CHANNEL KINDNESS: Do you suggest that survivors speak out about their experience as a way of healing?

  JASMIN: Do whatever feels right for you. Some people can’t speak out for different reasons. Most important, I want them to know they’re not alone and it’s not their fault. I wouldn’t say there’s a right or wrong way to go about it.… We are in a community together, and we all want to see each other be okay and succeed.

  To anyone who has experienced sexual assault, you are brave. Getting through every day can sometimes be difficult, and that in itself is an act of bravery.

  We ended the interview by talking about how Jasmin relates to bravery and kindness. She wanted very much to send the message “to anyone who has experienced sexual assault, you are brave. Getting through every day can sometimes be difficult, and that in itself is an act of bravery.” As for kindness, Jasmin followed up by saying, “If
you have experienced sexual assault, be kind to yourself, know it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t treat myself well for a long time—it took me a long time to take care of my body and understand I deserve to be healthy and deserve love; I deserve things I had convinced myself I didn’t.”

  Jasmin’s journey as the head of a nonprofit may have come about by accident, as she says. However, it seems she was truly meant to do this work, to remind each of us that knowledge is power and that consent is ours and ours alone to give.

  Em, thank you for shedding light on this important and not often enough discussed topic. I want to underscore what you said—you are never too young or too old to have safe boundaries. According to Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN), approximately 11.2% of all undergraduate and graduate students experience rape or sexual assault through physical force, violence, or incapacitation. I am heartbroken that Jasmin had to endure this trauma but grateful to her for starting Only with Consent to work toward ensuring that it doesn’t happen to another person. Thank you for including The Hunting Ground in your story; I was very proud of the brave women who shared their stories in that film. To learn more about the roles we can all play in stopping sexual assault, you can visit RAINN.

  22

  A WAKE-UP CALL TO ACTION

  BROOKE A. GOLDMAN

  4:30 A.M.

  My sister, Ava, and I woke with hearts racing and the promise of observing a new, untouched world. This was the morning of our long-awaited departure, and we felt the urgency of a mission we had been planning for two years.

  Ava and I were about to become the first teens on record to fly from New York to Newtok, a remote Alaskan village caught in the grips of the direct results of climate change. Many people, even in Alaska’s main cities, remain unaware of Newtok’s struggle with relocation. Because it is remote and poorly publicized, the opportunity to travel there is rare.