(This is a written version of a presentation I gave at our January Meeting.)
For the past year, Sonoma County ACEs Connection worked to make more people aware of Adverse Childhood Experiences. But especially after the big fires, it feels important to also talk about resilience. I want to start a discussion about simple resilience techniques that anyone could apply in their work, social and/or personal life. This is not new information, because the best resilience methods have been used by folks for hundreds, if not thousands of years. But perhaps you might be reminded of an approach you have not tried in a while, or gain an insight into how to better apply that approach. So, first, I will tell you a little bit about my life, second, about something that helped me get through tough times, and finally, how this tip might be helpful to others. I hope other folks might be inspired to share their own stories and ideas.
My father worked for the military, and that meant we moved often. When I was a young child, we were often stationed in Japan. It was not as great an experience as you might think. Although my ancestry is 100% Japanese, my body language alone told all the locals that I was an American. In contrast, all the Americans looked at me and assumed I was a local. It was hard to fit in. When we moved back to the US, the same thing happened. Initial conversations usually went like this:
“Where are you from?”
“Virginia.”
“No, really, what country are you from?”
This might have been funny if it only happened once, but in the military, you moved every two years. I moved to Japan, back to the US, went to Japan again and finally came back to the US, all before the 4th grade. Military brats are always the new kids in town, but at least the other kids were assumed to be Americans. I lived in a lot of different places, but none felt like like home. It’s hard to feel you belong in a place where people don’t assume you’re one of them.
Now, at some point all of us have felt like an outsider or stranger. But for some, it was a phase, while for some of us, it seems easier to count the number of times we did not feel that way. Just as some people with personal experiences with addiction are drawn to work in drug treatment, I was drawn to use my experiences to help others, especially those who also felt different and did not always feel welcomed. Over the past few decades, I have resettled refugees, provided housing and health services to farmworkers and new immigrants, and HIV services to LGBTQI persons.
I knew what it felt like to be part of two cultures and not really fit into either one. In my work, I always emphasized that everyone has a right to be respected for who they are, and that you needed to hold onto a clear sense of your authentic self, as there is no shortage of people willing to tell you how to act or what to do. New immigrants, to pick one example, are told by some to “act more American,” while at the same time, others laugh at you and say, “Who are you trying to fool?” Without a sense of self, you can get lost in a maze of other’s expectations, preconceptions and whims. You need a strong core sense of self to get through difficult times and changing situations.
Of course, having a clear sense of who you are is not just important in the face of trauma or tragedy. You need it for everyday life. Kids are quick to spot and mock differences in others. Adolescents will do all kinds of things to be accepted into, or belong to the right group. As adults, we face daily choices to “get along,” or “not rock the boat.” The purpose of most advertising is to tell you that “you’re not pretty enough, or thin enough, or popular enough, or cool enough, but if you buy our product…”. In the face of all that, having a personal hero or narrative that serves as a touchstone is really critical. Let me tell you about one thing that helped me.
There is an old Japanese folk tale about the red thread of fate. When you are born, spirits tie a red thread around your little finger. You cannot see it, but it connects you to all the important people in your life. Your best friends, mentors, your ancestors, (including folks who passed away before you were even born) are all connected to you, no matter the distance in space or time. Life’s challenges may cause the thread to get stretched or tangled, but it will never break.
That idea was comforting to a kid like me, whose best friend moved way off to Germany, while I was just settling in to a new country myself. Although I might be the only Asian kid in the class, I was never truly alone. Whatever new place we moved to, whenever I had to go to a new school, there was something to hold onto. The dumb things strangers said and thought didn’t matter as long as I had those red thread connections.
It may have been only an old folktale, but it meant that my safe place was inside me, no matter where on earth I happened to be. The red thread story is so well known in Japan that it is a cliché in stories. In American cartoons, when a character is in love, you see their heart beating out of their chest. In Japanese cartoons and comics, you might see a character with a string tied around their little finger. That is their connection to their soul mate. When you see it, you know they will face some big challenges ahead, but nothing will break that thread.
The red thread fable is not limited to Japan. In the Chinese version, the thread is tied to your ankle, not finger, but is otherwise the same. I suspect other cultures have similar stories, and in any event, we have all seen this concept in other forms. Most of us have participated in the group exercise where you visualize the connections between people in a room by passing around a ball of string.
As a former caseworker, I sometimes used a tool now called an “asset map” where you draw a diagram with your client in the center and show the key persons in their life, radiating out like spokes in a wheel. It is especially helpful in remembering nontraditional family relationships. (Refugee families for example, were often fractured by conflict and depended on whatever connections remained.) If drawn with the client, it can perhaps help them to see they may have more help available to them than they realize.
If you are working with a client, it might make sense to spend an hour drawing their asset map, but for a friend or yourself, I suggest finding the connection or thread relied on the most. My little folktale gave me pride in my heritage, a sense of connection and hope, and I could ask myself, “Would this make my ancestors proud? What would they do?” Ask the person, “What’s the person, belief or story that does that for you?”
Avoid negative judgements about your hero. Remember the dreaded homework assignment of writing an essay about a person we admire? We learn early to trot out safe and acceptable answers, like saying, “I’m fine” when we really are not. Forget the rote answer you give to others, and be honest.
If in a difficult time, a lonely kid asks, “What would Captain America (or Harry Potter or Katniss Everdeen) do in this situation?” well, what’s wrong with that? After all, I was relying on an old folk tale myself. Who or what are the “red threads” in your life?
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